The Unwanted Wife

Make my life hell? Well, surprise, surprise…it’s already hell! Do your worst!”

“Yes. I’m tired,” Theresa said remotely and Sandro’s brow furrowed. He watched as Theresa absently stroked the baby’s down-soft back, without once looking down at the infant and knew that something was terribly wrong.

“Yes,” she muttered automatically. “I suppose she is.” He frowned down at her, puzzled by her response or lack thereof.

“Theresa... what’s wrong?”

“Name the days,” he invited and she nibbled at the lower lip, giving it some serious thought.

“Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays,” she deliberately chose his busiest office days, the days he often trudged home much later than usual, hoping that it would force him to cancel a lot of the time. His sharp gaze told her he knew exactly why she had chosen those days but he grinned suddenly and nodded.

“I never, not once, was unfaithful to you during this marriage, Theresa.”

“Okay… give me an hour to get ready,” to shower, get dressed, throw up and such… He nodded.

“I need a shower,” she whispered bitterly. “You know what it’s like when you have an overwhelming urge to scrape the touch, the scent, the very essence of someone off of your skin, don’t you? After all, that’s what you usually do thirty seconds after your orgasm and I can finally relate to that” She turned and left the room before he had the opportunity to respond.

It’s been said that any fool can make a baby,” she teased, and he snorted.

Chemistry was a terrible thing; sometimes it simply sparked between the wrong people.

Did you go raiding all the wards in the hospital for those?