She was shivering now. She absurdly convinced herself that she’d never felt like this. That it wouldn’t go away. That something deep inside was propelling her toward a disastrous fate, a blind, ill-lit plight of her own device.
Still, she had the audacity to lean down to kiss her husband’s forehead, slowly, sensually, desperately. She closed her eyes. Tears brimmed them. She felt lightheaded. He stirred a little, murmured something, then rolled over.
He knew she was there.
She was in love, even then – but the inevitable was a bright-white infectious light, a great big wave of lunacy, pulling her downward, slicing through the undertow.
She raised herself from the bed and got dressed quickly.
She crept out of the bedroom, and the moonlight cast shame against her.
2013 © Jade Alyse
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