She was giggling now as she turned back to face him while he was gently rubbing her forearm.
“You’re a grown woman, Cindy, and you’re quite capable of making your own choices,” I said.
Inwardly I was seething, the inner whistle of my water kettle retorting loudly in my ears as I began shutting down my emotions. I’ve only been at this stage a few times in my life and I knew from past experience that I had to turn everything off or I would have in irreversible explosive reaction.
Cindy and I were like any other normal couple whose marriage had survived to this level of maturity. You don’t live with someone for 20 years without having arguments and moments of emotional outbursts from the outside influences that life challenges you with on a daily basis.
Cindy should have recognized immediately that I was in a very dangerous state of mind. The consumption of alcohol and her growing infatuation with Carl had obviously clouded her judgment.
But she was on her own. I don’t play these kind of manipulative relationship games and she should have known better. After all she has been my wife for 20 years and we didn’t have secrets from each other about how we felt when it comes to the important foundations of our relationship like trust, communication, and above all, loyalty.
I glanced over at Carl, who had a smug smirk on his face, challenging me with his expression. He knew what he was doing. He knew that he was insulting me as her husband by directing the conversation about dancing with my wife the way he had. Talking to her about me, instead of talking to me.
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