When she arrived at home, it was mid-night. The house was silent and dark, except for a light at the end of the corridor, where the kitchen was.
Alice found Tom, fast asleep at the table. He had probably waited up for her to talk about what had happened before. Then there was an empty bottle of Scotch next to him.
This was not the apology Alice was looking for.
It dawned on her that, if he kept going at this pace, Tom would be dead in a couple of years. The thought sparked no feeling: there was no worry, no sadness, just the plain realisation that this was the path he was walking along.
She went to their bedroom and locked the door behind her.
YOU ARE READING
Moonlight
RomanceIf my husband ignores me, I know other men are prepared to pay to have me.
