ADVERTISEMENT
I grinned, already scheming. “Let’s just say Chad’s about to get a lesson he won’t forget.”
I even dressed up every evening, greeting him at the door with a smile that didn’t reach my heart.
But I was cold as stone. I didn’t nag or complain, but I also didn’t connect. No chats about my day, no warm touches, no shared laughs. I was the image of domestic perfection, but it was all an act. It didn’t take long for Chad to sense something was wrong.
“Hey, babe,” he said one evening, lingering at the kitchen door while I prepared a three-course meal. “You’ve been really quiet. Everything okay?”
Continue READING…
ADVERTISEMENT