Chapter Thirty

I was practically in a murder mode the whole day. My husband didn't just make me his mid-day meal but he had set a wild fire in my chest which wouldn't set off. I tried swimming in the pool water, even ran on the treadmill for longer than any of the other days and also took a cold shower. Nothing helped.

Shelly's red fiery mane kept popping in my head repeatedly and every scenario led me to picture her kissing my husband, on the mouth, which was something we never did, except for that one time he kissed me for the photo ops.

It burnt and the worst part was I didn't want to show my husband that it did. God, I knew I shouldn't feel like I was feeling. That was the fucking rule set by me in the first place. I had been clear from the start that everything between me and Daniel would be purely physical and nothing emotional. Then why was I getting so damn angry picturing him with another woman.

Yeah, I knew why.

Because he was my husband. Mine.

I pulled my hair up in a bun and secured