“What's going on?’ she mused, growing more panicky. And that was the thing.
She was hoping he'd say something to ease her anxiety. Instead, his actions just
scared her even more.
Suddenly, he stopped, leaned forward and looked into her eyes. He said in a
serious voice, “Deb, I've already given you plenty of time. We've been married for
three years, and I never laid a finger on you. I don't care about the past, but from
now on, I want you to be my woman, physically and mentally. Understand?”
She didn’t think Carlos had it in him. He never said so many words at a time. This
was the most he'd said to her in a while. Debbie, however, was focused on the
sentence-“] want you to be my woman, physically and mentally.”
“He’s going to have sex with me?! What should I do? Should I turn him down?”
With a red face, she stammered, “I- understand.”
To be honest, she had already mentally prepared for this when they were in Jork.
After all, Carlos was her husband, and it was normal for couples to have sex.
They would have done it there if it weren't for their argument-they couldn't agree
on what position to use. But now, she wasn’t so sure. She wanted to talk to him,
not do the horizontal mambo.
And so far, Carlos had been nice to her. The only thing he did that really ticked
her off was maintain a relationship with Megan. And even that could be forgiven,
as long as none of them crossed the line.
Problem was, she wasn't sure that they hadn't crossed that fabled line.
He'd generally treated her well—he made sure she was well-taken care of
financially, and sent Phillip and Julie to ensure she was okay. “ALL right. Fine. I
can do this. He's my husband, * Debbie consoled herself internally.
But what Carlos said next sent chills down her spine.
“Don't be so nervous. This isn’t your first time. I don’t care whether you were top
or bottom. But me, I have to be—" SMACK!
Carlos failed to finish his sentence. The sound of a slap echoed through the
lounge. After that, time seemed to stop. There were no other sounds in the room.
None at all. And she Lay there, watching his expression turn, and the moments
seemed like millennia. She waited, nanosecond by agonizing nanosecond, as the
full impact of what she’d done sank in.
Carlos’ face soured as he watched the girl turn from shy to angry. He hadn't
bargained for this. Not at all. She was his wife, damn it! She was his woman, and
she had no right to turn him down. Not now. Not Like this. Not after all he'd done
for her. And now, she dared to lay her hand on him. “She slapped me! Again?!”
He couldn't hold back his anger anymore. It rose in him, threatening to explode.
He balled a fist, ready to repay her actions with interest.
When Debbie heard him say “This isn't your first time,“ she finally got it. And that
was not all. She now knew why he said “I don't care about the past.” He didn’t
think she was a virgin.
That was when she remembered... Before he knew she was his wife, he had
always believed she was a slut who dated countless boys.
“Hahaha! God, was I stupid?!’ She laughed, but tears streamed down her
cheeks. These were not tears of joy.
A rush of adrenaline overtook her as she pushed the man away from her, jumped
out of bed and shouted, “You asshole!” That word hung in the air between them
longer than either of them would like to admit. Each person believed they had
been wronged, and that might change things between them.
After that, she grabbed her jacket and stormed out of his office, crying.
She opened the office door and was about to leave when suddenly she saw
Tristan standing there. He had his hand raised, poised to knock. Seeing
Debbie in tears, he was stunned and blurted out, “Debbie.”
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Debbie was in no mood to talk to
anyone. She bit her lips and ran
towards the Lift without saying a
p : )
word. She couldn't. She just couldn't
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Staring at her retreating figure,
. “
Tristan wondered, “Why the tears?
2 . . ”
Did she have a fight with Carlos?
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Read the latest chapter there!
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He turned his head, his gaze shifting
to the office, only to see his boss
come out of the lounge with a stony
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Carlos cast a cold glance at Tristan before he sat on the couch and Lit a
cigarette.