Page 25 of Prince Cheating Charming

Would it make me look like an incredibly jealous and possessive husband to go out and demand he stay away from my wife?

My eyes narrowed.

If he so much as touched her. . .

The stupidest most infuriating part of this whole disaster was that it was entirely and totally my own dumbass fault. I could not stop the constant thrum of regret.

If I had been faithful the whole time she wouldn’t be leaving right now.

She would still be looking at me with that achingly beautiful smile, putting her soft mouth on mine, twining those delicious thighs around my waist.

She turned to laugh at something this other man said, and I burned with a savage jealousy.

Her eyes weren’t cold as they looked at him. They were warm and friendly, not shaded with disgust.

I should close the curtain, turn away. But I couldn’t. The thought of another man getting the sweet smiles, soft touches, and my wife made my stomach heave and I had to clutch the table underneath, where no one could see me, to keep myself from dry-heaving. But this was my punishment. This was my penance. For taking her for granted. For cheating on her like an absolute dipshit. Not because I loved another woman. Not because she wasn’t enough. Delilah would always be enough, always be everything I would ever want. But just because I had been raised with everything given to me on a platter. Even my smallest, most inconsequential pleasure catered to. And so when a five minute blowjob was offered, or easy pussy, I took it because I could and for the same reason I had every other meaningless material item I wanted.

I threw away the best thing I’d ever have for a few minutes of pleasure with women I didn’t give a shit about, and watching my wife fall out of love with me was my painful, excruciating penance.

And I couldn’t think about anything except

Am I going to be able to fix this?

Or is Delilah lost to me forever?

CHAPTER 11

Delilah

The next day, I rolled over for another beautiful morning in Norjava. Opening the curtains to my balcony, I sighed as I saw more of Alexander’s offerings there. This time, instead of flowers or jewelry, he had laid out art supplies in multiple overflowing baskets. I flipped them open. Top-of-the-line paints, metallic pencils, gorgeous creamy paper. Even a huge easel with a gift-wrapped golden bow.

I gritted my teeth and yanked the baskets inside, setting my jaw as I dumped all their contents into a big plastic bag I would donate to a local school.

How the fuck was he getting onto my balcony anyway? Was he literally climbing the castle walls?

Alexander refused to accept it was over.

I glanced down at my phone to see that Davies had texted.

If you need any help with anything else, just ask

I smiled. I didn’t know Roger’s coworker very well, but Davies was a handsome man, and seemed thoughtful and kind. Really he should be my type. When he heard about my split, he had been sympathetic without being pushy.

It would serve Alexander right if I started dating Davies. Show him that there were other men out there who did want me. I didn’t have to be reliant on him, at all.

Unfortunately, the thought of dating Davies didn’t particularly excite me, though I didn’t know why.

Instead of answering, I flicked over to Alexander’s text thread.

As usual, my phone was full of his regret and his pleas. Every morning, every night, all day long.

I love you, Delilah

I love you, Delilah

Forgive me

My husband had always been a big texter, always sending me funny gifs and memes, especially about the shows we watched together. But I refused to respond. If he didn’t want to be faithful to me, he didn’t get any of me. And that extended to a single solitary “ha ha” response. He didn’t get shit.

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