Chapter 1

On Valentine’s night, I received an urgent call from the ER.

A man and a woman had gotten carried away during an intense session and were stuck together in a critical medical emergency.

I sped twenty miles through the night to get there.

Just outside the trauma bay, I heard my wife sobbing from behind the curtain. “Are we going to die?”

A man’s voice comforted her with sickening tenderness. Through the thin surgical drape, the sound of them passionately kissing echoed in the room.

I didn't walk in.

Instead, I turned on my heel, walked into the staff restroom, and flushed the luxury diamond necklace she had been begging for straight down the toilet.

01

When Skylar called demanding that I pick her up outside the hospital, I was standing in the alley, smoking.

The moment she reached me, her face twisted in pure disgust.

“Didn't I tell you to quit? Why do you still smell like an ashtray?”

“Where’s the necklace you promised me? Or was that just another one of your empty promises?”

“Dustin, we’ve been married for three years. Can’t you show a shred of ambition for once?”

Faced with her relentless barrage of insults, I stayed silent.

For three years, I had treated Skylar like a princess. Tonight, however, I didn't have the stomach to humor her.

She glanced at my beat-up scooter with complete contempt.

With a scoff, she marched over to her own car, opened the door, and tossed the keys at my chest.

I climbed into the driver’s seat. While adjusting the seat, my fingers brushed against a torn, empty condom wrapper lodged between the cushions.

Skylar snatched it from my hand instantly. A flash of panic crossed her aggressive face before she quickly tried to cover it up.

“It’s just a finger glove from takeout. Don't go imagining things. A coworker ate hot wings in my car earlier.”

I didn't say a word. I just pulled the car over to the curb and killed the engine.

Panic flared in her eyes. She rolled down the window, hurled the wrapper into the night, and clutched her designer purse tightly against her chest.

“What are you doing? I told you it was just a food glove! Can you stop being so damn paranoid all the time?”

I didn't bother exposing her lie. Instead, I reached out, cupped the back of her head, and leaned in to kiss her.

“It’s Valentine’s Day. Let’s do something exciting.”

Skylar fought back violently.

When she realized she couldn't push me away, she drove her knee straight into my groin.

Agony ripped through me, turning my face ghost white. Meanwhile, Skylar furiously scrubbed her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Dustin! What the hell is wrong with you? Is your head filled with nothing but filth? You make me sick!”

Only when she saw me curled over the steering wheel, gasping for breath, did she realize she had hit me too hard. She leaned in slightly.

“Dustin, are you okay?”

Looking at her low-cut neckline, littered with fresh, violent hickeys, I felt a wave of bitter irony wash over me.

Another man could ravage her so recklessly that they ended up in the emergency room together. Yet I, her lawful husband, wasn't even allowed to kiss her.

Before I could answer, her phone screen lit up.

A tender smile spread across her lips before she could even hide it. Clutching her phone, she hurried out into the freezing night.

The wind was biting, forcing her to rub her bare arms to keep warm.

Yet the smile on her face was sweeter than anything she had ever given me.