Chapter 4

I bolted through the apartment, grabbing a towel in a rush to wrap myself up. My heart was still pounding like crazy, my breath coming in short gasps from the adrenaline of what had just gone down. The insistent ring of the phone echoed through the living room, cutting off the haze of pleasure dead in its tracks. We only heard it because the playlist had ended, leaving a thick silence hanging in the air.

I snatched the phone with my wrinkled hands still shaking.

It was Tommy.

The shock hit me like a ton of bricks. My chest tightened. He must be worried… and he’d be pissed. My legs wobbled a bit as I stared at the screen, my mind spinning with scattered thoughts. Oh God. It was only right then, like a punch to the gut, that I realized what I’d done.

I’d cheated on my husband.

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of that realization crush me. A hot wave of guilt started spreading through my body, mixed with a lingering spark of desire still pulsing on my skin.

I took a deep breath. Answered.

“Hi, honey…” my voice came out shaky, like I was already guilty as charged.

“Where are you?” his voice sliced through, sharp and dry, loaded with a tone I hated hearing.

“I… sorry, I’m at Manu’s place. We got to talking, drinking… lost track of time. Phone was in my bag.”

A heavy silence. My heart stopped for a second.

“We talk at home.” The words came cold. Final.

The call ended before I could say a word.

I stood there, frozen, clutching the phone with numb fingers, feeling a cold stab of fear crawl down my spine. Manu, watching the whole thing wrapped in a towel, raised an eyebrow, still bundled in the sheet, and let out a low sigh.

“We’re fucked, huh?”

I could only think one thing.

We’re fucked. Big time.

Everything was happening way too fast now. My body was still warm, but my mind was buzzing with guilt and the desperate need to erase any trace of what had happened.

I rushed back to the bathroom, scooping up my clothes scattered on the floor, heart racing in my chest. It wasn’t until I faced myself in the mirror that I saw the real problem.

The shower cap was long gone.

My hair was completely wet. Wet!

Panic burned up my throat like acid reflux. If I showed up home like this, Tommy would know. Even if I blow-dried it, he’d notice the difference. My husband might be useless at a lot of things, but he was weirdly sharp about the smallest details — he noticed everything. Sometimes I’d even joke he was kinda gay for it, picking up on nuances most guys would miss.

“Shit!”

I grabbed the towel and started rubbing my hair hard, in a desperate bid to hide the obvious. Manu’s blow dryer was powerful, but it couldn’t work miracles. In the end, I piled it all up on top of my head, hoping he wouldn’t spot anything off.

Phone in hand, I opened the app and called a car. Time to face the music.

Tommy couldn’t, no way in hell, not in a million years, suspect what I’d just done.

“If he asks about the wet hair, girl…” Manu started, biting her lip, thinking fast. “Say you drank too much, the food didn’t sit right, you puked and your hair dipped in the toilet water. Had to wash it.”

I widened my eyes, taking in the ridiculous idea for a second.

“Oh God, Manu… that’s gross!” I made a face, but then took a deep breath, weighing it. “Okay… but he won’t ask.”

“God hear you, girl.”

She gave an awkward smile, and I returned it. I leaned in for a quick peck on her cheek, trying to claw back some normalcy after everything.

“Kiss.”

“Take care… and act like you’re queasy!” She winked, playful, trying to ease my tension.

I grabbed my bag and left.

On the way back, every minute felt like a endurance test. My chest squeezed, my breathing hitched. The city blurred past the car window, but I didn’t see it. All I could think about was how to cover it all up.

Every block we passed, I texted him.

“Heading out now."
"Got the car."
"Almost there.”

It wasn’t far, but that dumb little ritual helped me breathe, like if I stayed predictable somehow, everything would be fine.

Bullshit. Nothing was fine.

At the front door, unlocking the lock to my apartment, I ran through the lies I’d tell in my head. I fixed my bun, pushed the door open, and stepped in.

He was sitting there, waiting. Body stiff, arms crossed, eyes burning with fury. My stomach flipped right away.

I glanced around. The place was the usual mess — cluttered and dirty, he never cleaned shit. Only he stood out against it, like a storm brewing.

“Honey… sorry, I really screwed up with you. You worried?” I tried to keep my voice steady, faking a normalcy that was long gone.

“Who were you with?” The question came cold, but laced with something that sent a chill down my spine.

I clenched my jaw. I knew I had to choose my words carefully.

“With Manu.”

He laughed. A bitter, cruel laugh.

“They already told me everything. I can’t believe you did this to me.”

My heart raced. My mind went on high alert. Everything from that night was locked up tight. No one knew. Not even Manu would spill. I hadn’t touched my phone for a second.

“Told you what?” My voice came out steady, but inside, I felt the ice melting into a volcano ready to blow.

He stared at me, eyes flashing with anger and something else… hurt.

“I’ll ask once. Did you go out with that coworker of yours?”

My blood ran cold.

“Yeah, we went out… the four of us. To that Japanese place you wouldn’t go to ‘cause you never join me for anything! Then I went to Manu’s.”

“Went to Manu’s… right.” He ran his tongue over his teeth, looking away.

The tension in the air was unbearable. I felt like at any moment, something bigger would blow up.

“Who told you that, Tommy? I wanna know.” I crossed my arms, trying not to show the unease boiling inside me.

He slammed his fist on the couch arm, a sharp thud that made me blink hard.

“I’m an idiot, huh?” His voice cracked. It wasn’t just anger. It was pain.

I took a step back.

“What do you know?”

He laughed. A dry, disbelieving laugh, as he ran a hand over his face like he was trying to hold it together.

“Oh, I get it… now you’re throwing up a smoke screen!” He pointed at me, eyes full of frustration. “I see your strategy.”

My blood boiled.

“What strategy, you crazy bastard?!” I stepped forward, feeling the rage pulse through me. “You’re accusing me of something, but you don’t even know what!”

“Who told you that, Tommy? I wanna know now!”

He stared at me for a moment, fists clenched at his sides, breathing heavy, like he was about to explode.

“I have my sources.”

I rolled my eyes, letting out an ironic laugh.

“Oh, your sources? Really? Since when do you have sources for anything, Tommy? You barely have a job, barely get off the couch, but now you’re a damn private eye?”

The jab hit home. His face turned red, his gaze hardened.

“I might be a lot of things, but at least I’m not a liar.”

I let out a bitter laugh.

“Oh, there it is! You wanna fight over something you don’t even know happened. You got any proof of anything? Or are you just flipping out over some gossip?”

He hesitated. For a split second, just one, he doubted himself. But the anger wouldn’t let him back down.

“You think I’m stupid, don’t you?” He shook his head, laughing without any humor. “I might not be the smartest guy in the world, but I know when my wife comes home different. I know when something’s off. And I know someone’s laughing behind my back right now.”

My breath shortened. He was right. But for all the wrong reasons.

I was wrong. I knew it. The guilt hammered in my head, making me dizzy. But I wasn’t gonna bow my head to him. Not now.

“If I came home different, Tommy, it’s ‘cause for the first time in forever I had fun. But you know what’s worse? I found out I can have fun without you around, that you don’t make a difference.”

His eyes widened for a second, but before he could react, I crossed my arms and gritted my teeth. He stayed there, arms crossed, gaze loaded with something I couldn’t fully read. Wounded pride, anger, maybe even contempt. But he didn’t say a word. I sighed deep. I was done. Not dragging out that stupid fight. Tomorrow I’d figure out what to do.

I went to the bedroom, stripped off my clothes, and threw on something comfy for bed. My head throbbed, a mix of guilt, confusion, and emotional exhaustion weighing on my shoulders. I lay down and closed my eyes, trying to shut out the chaos inside me.

A few minutes later, I heard his footsteps approaching.

“You were out for over 20 hours and you’re going to bed without a shower?” His voice cut through the bedroom silence.

My heart jumped.

I opened my eyes but stayed still.

“You showered out there?”

Holy shit. I slipped up.

I felt the blood heat up, my stomach churning. I hadn’t planned for that, hadn’t thought through the detail. I rolled onto my side, burying my face in the pillow so I wouldn’t have to face him.

“Go sleep in the living room, Tommy.”

Silence first. Then a short, mocking laugh.

“Sure. It’s always like that, right? You fuck up and I get screwed.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t answer.

I heard his heavy steps retreating, then the bedroom door slamming hard.

I closed my eyes again, but I knew that night I was totally fucked.