I tried to sleep, but my mind wouldn’t stop racing. The memories of Dulcie’s smirk, her taunts, kept me awake. It was hours later when I heard the front door slam open. Footsteps thundered up the stairs, and I could feel the fury in every step. Reagan.
I could almost hear the rage in his voice as he stormed into the bedroom. “Danica!” he snapped. “Get up!”
I rolled over, pretending to be asleep, but I knew it wouldn’t work. He was already standing over me, his anger crackling in the air like electricity.
“Wake up!” His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist with a brutal grip. “What the hell is wrong with you? You ruin everything. The evening—my evening—was ruined because of you!”
I yanked my arm away from him, sitting up in bed, trying to shove the emotions down. “I had to leave,” I said quietly. “You didn’t expect me to stay and watch her—”
“I don’t want to hear about her, Danica!” He leaned over me, his face inches from mine, eyes burning with fury. “You embarrassed me. You humiliated me in front of everyone. Do you have any idea what that means?”
I couldn’t help it. The words slipped out before I could stop them. “You’ve been sleeping with her.”
For a moment, he just stood there, staring at me. And then, with a cold smile, he said, “Well, aren’t you just full of surprises.”
My heart twisted painfully. “You’ve been seeing her for years, haven’t you?”
He didn’t even flinch. “What did you expect, Danica? You think I’m going to sit here and be loyal to you? You’re nothing to me. Nothing.” His eyes glinted with satisfaction, watching the shock and pain spread across my face. “And if you think this is a betrayal, wait until you see the next one.”
I felt my stomach drop. “What?”
His smile widened, cruel and calculating. “You want the truth? Fine. I’ve been with her since one week after we got married. You were too busy playing the doting wife to notice. But I’m not sorry. I’ll never be sorry.”
His words hit me like a tidal wave. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. He stood there, looking at me with this sick satisfaction, this twisted sense of power.
“Why are you telling me this?” I finally whispered, barely able to hold myself together. “What’s the point of all this?”