Damien
The ride back home was quiet. Serena sat beside me, looking out the window, her hands resting lightly on her lap.
She looked calm, but I knew she wasn't. Her shoulders rose too slowly each time she breathed as if she was counting her breath.
I kept my eyes forward, pretending to be unbothered but I wasn't.
Every thought in my head tonight was the kind a man shouldn't have while sitting this close to his wife in a car—wait a second here, these were the kind of thoughts a married man should be having towards his wife. But it wasn't just the thoughts, it was the nature of them.
Ungodly was the right word for them.
I tried to distract myself with thoughts of work, with tomorrow's meeting, with anything that didn't involve her lips, her skin, or the way she leaned into my chest during the dance. But that didn't help at all. Every attempt to think straight only led right back to her.
