Everything's wrong, but it's fine. You became the mistress.

hat happens in my head when he disappears. It's as if my brain

uch? Did I complain at the wrong time? Did I make that face he hates? And I keep going over every s

explain, it doesn't justify itself; it just disappears, as if I were disposable, a detail easily erased. That's when I weaken the most: when I realize that, between the certainty of having lost and living in this doubt, I pref

s if he hadn't left me talking to myself on WhatsApp for a whole wee

g?" I r

alive?"

idiot," I a

man. A classy woman. A woman who isn't scared of me

breakdown, but I don't send him anything. Becau

ne rings. Message from whom?

in 30 minu

if I'm not already wearing a cotton nightgown, my hair i

But I s

fuck off." I should say "find you

u m

soul, my reputation, and my dignit

h my teeth, reapply my lipstick, and change out of my

icu

kled shirt, a loose tie, that smile of someone who

elessly, looking at me as if it

of someone who wants to hit a

red like that, with that face like

by the waist. His scent filled my room.

rushing his lips against my neck. Meetings,

ould shout, "Liar!" But the smel

r lawyer, self-possessed, is gone.

ke he's starving. Like I'm his salvation

sappear, my ce

glass of wine in one hand, my phone in the other. He caresses my

lem is I pretend I don't know. "I missed

castically. "So why

yes. He lets go of that b

my family, everything. I didn't want to involv

good things. Translation: I'm trash, but I'll g

r it. Even wo

elieve. He has that gift: he speaks in a way that

up my glass, pla

? We should ma

row. Too handsome

wyer, have you forgotten?

husky laugh that

uld the firs

one bottle of Cabernet, special vintage. Second

fingers. He responds in the m

ruined right

hard. Because it's the only co

es, and mediocre excuses, he says he

ie from the floor, I

ta

mistress, not the wife.

re than anything else. It's almost a "take care," almost a "see you

the living room, naked, wrapped in a blanket. I star

ate myself. But I can only sigh

one to my

il my skin burns. The steam fogs up the mirror. I'

who studied, worked, and dominated an office full of arrogant men. I remember

was a co

m him is a coincidence

s he going t

a knot I'd r

d. I open WhatsApp. It's online. He

you al

mes. My heart skips a beat.

in. In the end, I just send a 'yes.' A red heart right after. Ridiculous. I

send me a good morning text. He promises something new. H

that he's lying. The pro

ect wife, with the perfect life. I wonder if she k

ends. Maybe this is love: a big contract wi

could get out of this now. I coul

use his scent is

ddiction has

es, who always follo

ve on ex