Thirty-Eight

George

Before I hit Camilla, my heart was bristling with rage, and I wanted to let it out, but after I did, I felt so stupid. My hands fell to my side, and I felt so heavy with regret.

She stood there, her hands on her cheek, horrified like a child who had just witnessed something horrible. She blinked slowly and couldn't believe what had just happened.

I trembled and slammed my fist on the couch. She took a step back, thinking I was going to hit her.

“What the fuck?” Her voice cracked. It was a low tone of disbelief. “You hit me!?”

“Camilla, I—”

She turned away from me, and I felt a pang of guilt. What the fuck have I done?

I had tried to control myself but couldn't. I was consumed by a jealous rage, and I blamed her for it. She went to fuck Ziah. I could bet on that with my last cent.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. But the damage was already done. Camilla was quiet, her back still turned to me.

She was leaving when I rushed to hold her back and wrapped my arms aro