"Despite having such a beautiful wife," Tisha whispered, her fingers lazily adjusting a stray, sweat-dampened strand of hair from her forehead. "He's always wandering like a stray dog, sniffing around for scraps of meat."
Heena didn't flinch. To her own surprise, she didn't feel the sting of insulted pride or the sharp flare of anger.
Instead, a wave of cold, heavy relief washed over her.
It was the relief of a prisoner finally hearing someone else acknowledge the bars of her cage.
Someone finally saw the truth of her marriage... the hollowed-out silence and the starving neglect.
"He doesn't... deserve you, Heena." Tisha breathed, the sentence fracturing as Alex shifted behind her.
His hands closed around her thighs, lifting them with that same effortless authority, draping her legs over his shoulders as he repositioned himself between them.
There was no hesitation in his movements... no negotiation or pause for permission.
