Another drabble with the Storyin12 today
She never meant for him to find that letter.
Twenty-two years of relatively happy marriage. He’d never been the love of her life, but she let him believe he was her everything.
He’d insisted on cleaning the attic that summer evening. Seeing that notebook paper in his hand sent a twinge of guilt through her.
The way he held her gaze as he spoke each explicit word, damned her. His eyes glinted, anger and hunger warring for place.
“I always wondered at the looks you gave him. My wife, Harry’s whore.”
Arousal bloomed fresh and hot between them.