51

I lean into the side of the dresser and wait for her to say something. She needs to get the words out. Keeping them locked in, replaying everything she saw, isn’t going to make her feel any better.

“How about a bath?” I ask her. “I’ll make the water really hot and—”

“I’m good just like this.”

But she isn’t good. She’s far from it.

I move over to the bed and sit next to her, rubbing her arm through the comforter. “Tell me what to do.”

She slips the bottle under the blanket, and it looks like she’s guzzling some of the wine down. “Nothing. Just go. I’ll be fine.”

“I can’t leave you like this, Piper.”

“Yes, you can,” she mumbles from behind the blanket. “I need some time to think, and I can’t do that when you’re here.”

Thinking won’t make her feel any better. Nothing will. Not after seeing her husband getting it up the ass, especially not after he told her that it wasn’t his first time and that he had been doing it behind her back.

It’s one thing to be unfaithful. She has done the same t