All I can think about is the sex I had with Ian last night. It was the first time we’d made love in over a week, which jarred me—I didn’t realize until we were in bed just how long it had been. That can’t continue. Even while I’m sleeping with Michael, I can’t neglect my husband. But that’s not the worst part. It’s chewing on my conscience and making me feel like a terrible spouse, but the sex itself was weird. Ian has never shied away from my touch. He’s never recoiled. A shudder from him has always been one of arousal, and a sharp inhalation is a sign he’s about to come, not one of impending panic. Then why… I blow out a breath, staring at the computer monitor even though I’ve forgotten what the hell the spreadsheet I’m working on is for. All the words and numbers are gibberish. I need coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. I grab my empty cup and leave my desk for the break room down the hall.
What do You think about What He Left Behind (2015)?
