63

Francesca

I was weak.

I could feel my resolve crumbling like stale bread. Those dark eyes of his, that sexy voice. It was as if Faust had a direct line to my hormones and could play those chords at will, flooding my system with lust so strong I couldn't breathe.

Between my legs was a needy mess. My traitorous body had clearly forgotten everything Faust had done wrong, and no amount of reminders kept me immune to it.

I entered the women's bathroom and went to the empty stall. After relieving myself, I went out to wash my hands and splash water on my face. I had to get myself together. I couldn't forgive him or start sleeping with him again. Both were terrible ideas.

God, but the look on his face when he saw our eleven week old baby during the ultrasound. It was as if he was the emotional one, his eyes becoming glassy as he stared at the computer screen. I almost took his hand, needing to share the joy and excitement for a moment, but somehow thought better of it.

You were my slut and a