Chapter 2. He Loves Her

Reese

Troy, my husband of exactly two years today, was on our bed, naked. He was using our marital bed by having sex with someone else in between those sheets, someone that wasn’t me, someone that has a smaller frame than me.

The only woman I knew who had a smaller frame than me, was Nica. And she loved to wear heels. Stilettos, cut-outs, pumps, peep-toes. Name it, and you can find it in her collections.

I thought Troy didn’t like her. I thought he had already chosen me over her. I was wrong.

I remained completely frozen in the doorway in complete shock, not a single word coming out of my mouth, not a cry, even though tears started to well up in my eyes. I felt a rising sensation of betrayal in my chest, which coiled itself around my heart and threatened to cut and dice.

I was experiencing a ringing sensation in my ears, as if they had been damaged by a strong explosion, which was comparable to a bomb going off in my area and rendering me fleetingly deaf.

By this point, I ought to be accustomed to being rejected and betrayed. As for rejection, I have had enough of being rejected by people I believed I could trust, and men have proven that they cannot be trusted.

As I clutched the doorknob tightly, as if I could keep my heart from bleeding hurt, I told myself to race away from the disgusting and horrible scene, but I couldn’t move my feet. I couldn’t walk away. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them, and I even couldn’t step inside to stop them.

The only thing that the parts of my body were capable of doing was shaking violently. My gaze was fixed to their bare, sweaty bodies, as they intensely slapped and moved together.

My lips were trembling, watching that body of my husband that I knew so well, and that other body I couldn’t identify, because Troy was covering her face as he hovered on top of her. I could only catch a peek of her ginger hair, which was quite long.

Ginger hair, exactly the same as mine. I absentmindedly touched my hair and looked down at the strands that were cascading over my shoulder.

Wait. Ginger?

But Nica’s hair was dark brown.

The loud and pleasurable groan that came from my husband seemed to cut into my brain the moment it entered my head, and it caused me to stare at the woman whom I thought was Mia’s best friend underneath him.

The ginger-haired woman was desperately holding Troy’s back with all her might, and she was covered in a heavy layer of sweat. Her red nails left red scars on his skin, adding to the collection of fading scratches he was already displaying. It was as if she was trying to tell me that this wasn’t the first time they had engaged in sexual activity.

“Troy, fuck me harder…” the woman cried out in what could only be an immense pleasure my husband had been withholding me from experiencing for the past two years, but now he was lavishly offering it to her.

And her voice sounded really familiar. So familiar that I could even hear my mother from her.

No. Mom wouldn’t do something like this to me. She was beating me sometimes, but I understood that it was how she disciplined me. We’re not on good terms, but she won’t hurt me like this.

I shook the thought out of my head and focused my attention on Troy. I noticed that his facial expression now was a combination of concentration and pleasure. I could clearly read them in his eyes. And there was something else I refused to interpret.

Love.

He loved her? But what about me? Where was me in his heart? And I thought it was only me. He said I was the only one he loved.

“Fuck me harder and deeper, Troy!” the woman repeated, and as an obedient lover, Troy flipped the woman over, and without giving her any warning, he thrust his hard shaft inside her, harder and quicker, which caused her to groan even louder.

I felt myself getting dizzy, and I had to lean against the wall to stop myself from passing out. Troy’s right hand was holding her waist while fucking her hard, and the other hand was massaging her breast, simultaneously pinching her nipple. He released a low, loud groan before he opened his mouth to talk to the woman. “Fucking shit! You’re still so fucking tight, baby…”

I tore my gaze away from Troy and instead focused my attention on the woman who was now on all fours. I waited for her to speak, but she was too busy writhing and moaning like a wild animal.

I watched Troy fuck her for a few times before pulling out his still hard and swollen member. He flipped her again so that she was lying on her back. “Mandy, baby…” he muttered lovingly. “Let’s finish this…”

Mandy…

Mandy?

Oh, God!

Oh my god!

Mandy Cooper. My own mother. The woman who carried me in her womb for nine months.

The air sucked out of my lungs, and I dropped down on my knees. My legs were too weak to support me. Now that I think about it, I understand why the silver stiletto heels were so familiar; not only did Troy give them to her as a present on her forty-fifth birthday, but I was the one who purchased them.

My husband and my own mother betrayed me. Had I been blind? Had I simply failed to see that they had been cheating on me for a considerable amount of time, and I had never noticed anything weird or suspicious about them?

“Oh yes, fuck! I’m coming!” I ignored my mom’s loud moan and covered my face with my hands.

Was she the reason why his dick wouldn’t get hard when he tried to make love with me?