-5- | Cuckold

Now, on the fifth, he didn’t even hide. He sat in the living room, reading a book upside down, while she texted Mark under the table. Her thumb moved in small, confident circles. Once, she glanced up and smiled—not cruelly, but kindly. The kind of smile you give a child who doesn’t understand the grown-up joke.

He looked at the marmalade. Orange, glistening, cruel. Cuckold -5-

“You’re quiet,” she said.

Outside, a car passed. Maybe Mark’s. Maybe not. Now, on the fifth, he didn’t even hide

That night, she fell asleep first. He lay awake, counting. Not the men. Not the nights. But the number of times he had almost left. Five. The same as the cuckolding. The same as his fingers, which he now laced behind his head, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the sixth. Once, she glanced up and smiled—not cruelly, but kindly