The Truth Comes Out

Amaya

I had to rush to get out of bed that morning after those morning activities had rendered me a little late. I grinned as I showered and wondered if I should invite him in to join me, to see just how many times he could make me come before I had to leave for work. I got ready as fast as I could, and he planted a kiss on my cheek before I went out the door.

“Have a good day,” he told me, and I smiled back at him.

“You too,” I replied, and I felt that familiar little fizz in my chest, the one that came every single time he did something that could have been mistaken for the actions of a loving husband. He seemed to have cheered up from last night. I had asked a couple of times what his father had spoken to him about that had gotten him so out-of-sorts, but he didn’t tell me, offering me vague half-answers to deflect the question. Probably something about work, something too dull to bother me with. I didn’t let it get under my skin. All that mattered was that he was back in his usual