Page 3 of Reckless

Does she mean this house? Is thistheirhouse?

Nausea overrides my senses, and suddenly, I’m suffocating. Cold sweat breaks out on my body, and I swallow—hard—so I don’t throw up in that asshole’s new Nikes, which are sitting at myfeet.

“Are those balloons in the living room for me?” the woman asks excitedly in between attacking hisface.

No, bitch. They’renot.

“You know it,” the liarsays.

“And the Ranger ticketstoo?”

He laughs awkwardly, and his body turns toward the closet where he can probably feel me holding up my two middle fingers. Because he knows I don’t have any money, but I spent what little I did on him. To make today special. Because I, Tori Duran, am adumbass.

At least he has the decency to looksheepish.

He coughs. “Yeah, honey. They’re for you. Thought we should enjoy a game together foronce.”

I wipe away the hot tears spilling down mycheeks.

She “awws,” and I want to stab them both with her expensiveheels.

“I can’t believe you got me presents onyourbirthday. We’ll get a babysitter and make a night ofit!”

He’s seeing a woman withkids?

Except my horror isn’t over yet. No, it’s when she chirps, “I tell my friends that I have the best husband in the wholeworld!”

JesusChrist.

It starts to sink in, and my world tilts on itsaxis.

Because she’s not the otherwoman.

Iam.

My stomach rolls, and acid lurches up the back of my throat. I slide to my knees and brace myself against the wall, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the nightmare unfolding in front ofme.

She pushes him down onto the bed and nestles herself over his body, and he moans the same way he did a few minutes ago when he was touchingme.

Exceptnow?

Now he’s fucking hiswife.

1

Tori

One yearlater

There area lot ofshouldsin thisworld.

Like…

Ishouldclean this pigsty of anapartment.

Ishouldeat at least one vegetable thisweek.

Ishouldlook for a better payingjob.

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