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Jealousy

Proserpina

I swallowed hard, my face turning pale as I met my husband’s eyes. He had the look of a man who was doing his best to control his temper. His thick fists were clenched tight as he held himself rigidly.

‘Wife,’ he growled,’ I want to talk to Schwartz.’ And as I opened my mouth to speak, he said, his voice a roar,

‘Get the f*ck away from here, woman. I said NOW!’

I stepped back, hurt by his tone and turning, fled inside, trying not to cry.

That he had judged me without listening to me hurt me deeply. After those torrid nights of passion we spent, did he still not understand how I felt about him?

That for me, no other man mattered but Lucien Delano?

He had watched them from the windows of his study. Somehow, he never felt comfortable when his wife was with Handsome James who was his best friend.

F*ck, he could not tolerate seeing his wife with ANY man.

But this day, it was different. Proserpina was looking as lovely and youthful as ever, with no makeup, her hair in a high pony
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