So Wrong

I went about my business, desperate to drive out the memories of his tongue, the exact shape and texture of his cock, the feeling of him making love to me and the horrendous guilt which continued to simmer in my stomach. Nothing I tried worked and I became dreadfully distracted and irritable. I was haunted day and night, but especially at night.

Chloe and I only talked on the phone once. It was a short chat. She complained about work, asked me how I was doing, and then had to go. She was testing out another date.

“Are you okay?” she asked me before hanging up. “You sound off.”

“I’m fine,” I said, not sounding it at all, even to my own ears.

What else could I say? I sound off because I fucked your ex-husband, the man you’re still in love with?

“Are you sure?” Chloe sounded skeptical. “You have a weird tone.”

Thankfully her date rang her bell before I had to answer and she hung up. She texted me later to tell me he was a loser. She didn’t make mention of my tone again, thank God.

The gu