Bill just chuckled, utterly unconcerned.
"Who cares? Julian Gilbert is a complete idiot."
"Raised my son for five years and still thinks he's father of the year."
His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he spoke.
"Come on, babe. I can't wait any longer."
He pulled Louise beneath him—
My grip on the door handle turned white-knuckled.
I didn't move. Didn't breathe. Just stood there, frozen, hand locked around the handle.
Raised my son for five years.
The words replayed in my skull, over and over, like a serrated blade twisting deeper into my chest with every repetition.
They were so lost in each other that neither one noticed me standing in the doorway.
Not until a sharp crack split the air—the door handle snapping clean off in my fist.
Louise and Bill froze mid-motion. Both heads turned toward the door in unison.
The moment Louise saw me standing there, her pupils contracted to pinpoints.
"H-honey?"
The flush hadn't faded from her face. Her eyes flickered with the unmistakable panic of someone caught in the act.
The lecherous grin on Bill's face turned to stone.
A heartbeat later, he dropped into his usual act—the one he always wore around me—hunching his shoulders, lowering his head, the picture of timid submission.
As if I terrified him beyond reason.
After a flash of panic, Louise recovered fast.
She leaned forward, shielding Bill's trembling body behind her own.
"Julian, what is that look on your face? Look at what you've done to Bill—you've scared him half to death!"
I'd just caught Louise in bed with another man.
No explanation. No guilt.
Instead, she shielded her lover without an ounce of shame.
Behind her, Bill slowly lifted his head. The fear on his face had already vanished, replaced by a smirk aimed squarely at me.
But the instant Louise glanced back at him, the terror snapped right back into place.
Watching Louise hover over him like a mother hen guarding her chick, something inside me went cold—completely, irreversibly cold.
"What's wrong with the way I'm looking at you?"
"And don't you think you owe me an explanation?"
"You told me you were working overtime. So how exactly did you end up in your 'little brother's' bed?"
Louise's eyes flickered—two rapid, involuntary blinks.
But the guilt was swallowed almost instantly by indignation, as though she were the one who'd been wronged.