Warning! The chapter contains obscene language.
~~~
I wonder if a boxer feels the same way when he is knocked out in the ring? There was a sound a second ago.
Bam!
And that's it.
You don't hear anything, you don't see anything.
There is a veil before the eyes.
Emily felt that way.
Wife. His wife. He has a wife. Not a girlfriend, not a fiancee. A wife.
"You're lying," she struggled to find the strength to say these words.
"Ha, why would I lie?" the brunette grinned.
Emily felt nausea roll in her throat. The acrid smell of alcohol seemed to permeate everything around.
She put the cup of unfinished coffee on the table and lowered her hands. She clasped her fingers together to stop the shaking.
"I told you right away, he is playing with you," the stranger continued her monologue.
