He sat down in the bedroom, wearing a white dress shirt that bore a faded red spot at the collar. “My dear,” he grinned, “everything is fine.”
I clenched my teeth. Long nights away, gifts from ‘work,’ kisses that felt colder than winter, colder than death. And he didn’t even try to make a good lie. I glanced at the mirror. Did my forties make me so unappealing to my husband? “Don’t you trust me?” he asked.
“Yes, dear,” I answered, smiling. “I do.” My mom said women fight the biggest battles. My naïve husband had just declared war with me.