Ten years. She spent ten years saving every coin, working herself sore, just to sit in this small apartment and pretend he mattered. And this was the thanks she got: another woman's perfume soaked into the towels, another woman's moans echoing off the tiles he never bothered to scrub.
From inside the bathroom, Andrew's voice slurred through the steam, thick and stupid with lust.
"Darling... f*ck, you're so good today… tighter than usual…"
The word "darling" landed like a slap across Thea's face.
She kicked the already-open door so hard it banged against the wall and bounced back. Her next scream ripped through the narrow corridor of the family building, loud enough to rattle the thin windows.
"Help! Someone come quick! There's a thief in my house—stealing my husband right under my nose! Come and look!"
