Prologue

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My marriage is a sham. It's falling apart beneath my feet and all I can do is putting on a fake smile and pretend that everything is fine.  I wonder will I ever have the courage to end this. When did I become this weak because of my own love?

Every morning, I make him breakfast, and then we'd chat like nothing happen. Before he leaves to work, I walk him out the door, letting him kissing me longer than necessary. And I'd hug him tight because I know by the end of the day, he'd go to the other woman's arms.

Every night I let him slid into our bed with the woman's scent still linger on his skin. It's sickening and disgusts me. But I lay still like a good wife when he throws his arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him. I even let him make love to me even when I know he has touched the other woman.

What is wrong with me?

I let him cheat behind my back for months and I still can't do anything to stop it.

I startle as I hear footsteps in the hallway. What time is it? I glance around the room wildly in search of clock. Actually, it's not the first time my husband almost caught me in my episode. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be the last either. I just –

The door of bedroom is opened. I jump from my bed, making bee line to the bathroom before he can see a disaster named my face. It's a total mess.

"Love,"

I hear him calling me affectingly with that voice of him that can melt my heart. I wave my hand in the air, wishing he will understand that I need some moment. I close the door behind me before I turn on the faucet. My face is a mess. Mascara streaks wild under my eyes. My cheeks look hollowed. I know I've lost weight. I just don't know that I look this worse.

Is it because of beauty then? My husband is cheating behind my back because he finds me no longer beautiful?

We just got married for eleven months, and I'm just twenty three for crying out loud.

A knock on the door indicates that he won't leave me alone. I quickly splash my face with water. Be damned with make-up as I scrub my face clean.

"Hold on." I say firmly.

"Are you okay, Love?"

How I wish I could stuff something in his mouth so that he won't speak. In this state, I can't bear to hear his voice. Not when he returns home with glowing face and just got the best laid of his day. I don't want to have anything to do with him.

"Give me a sec." I say back.

Now that my face is free of make-up, it looks pale, like I am a ghost instead of human. Where has my blood gone? Why don't Ihave any color left in my face? What has happened to me? bubble of hysteria laugh threatens to escape. I clamp a hand over my mouth. My eyes appear dull and black in the mirror. This is not me.

Where am I? Where's the old me?

"Love?" he calls again.

Shit! Why is he so persistent? Is not that he needs me for sex anyway. I try to regain my sanity before answering him.

"What is it?"

A silence. "Can I come in?"

I glare at the door before focusing the glare to my own reflection. Why can't I look beautiful again? What on earth is happening to me? Why is my husband cheating behind my back? Why I never do anything about it? And how the hell I love him still even after what he has done to me?

"Yes. Yes James, you can come in."

I turn around in time the door is opened. There he is my husband wearing his black suit looking handsome as ever. Even his nails look beautiful and they don't lessen his male beauty. My traitorous mouth pulls into a smile. And every second of it, I hate myself even more.

"You good?"

He slips past the door straight into me. His hands linger in my waist, caressing my skin as if he has the right. And he does have the right to touch me, even when he has used his hands earlier to touch the other woman.

I feel sick. But my smile remains intact. If it's possible, it's getting wider.

"Yeah." I lift my hand to cup his jaw. "How was work?"

The genuine concern in his eyes are instantly gone, replaced by weariness. "I need lots of sleep." He drops his head into my shoulder. His lips are lingering on my neck. "I also need lots of you. Just you."

My eyes are closed in response. I wish that I could do the same with my heart. "I'm here James."

I'm always here.

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