Selfish

THIRD CHAPTER

My eyes were heavy as I try to open them. It felt cold, but a warm hand was pressed to my cheeks and I almost immediately lean towards it for comfort. However, when I opened my eyes and saw my husband was the one now caressing my hair, it took me a lot to hold in a pathetic sob. I flinch away like I was fire, and he gives me a pained look.

"I'm sorry I woke you up." He apologizes in a low, hushed tone.

It was quiet around us. The only things that made a sound were some crickets and the AC. I pull the blankets closer to me, but I didn't look away from him. He looked tired. His hair was disheveled and his eyebags were puffy. His eyes were empty and depressing when I looked into them carefully while he wore a sad smile. He looked like he didn't even take a bath at all.

Which means he carried that woman's dirt into our house. Into my home.

Then again, the affair probably took place a long time ago and he'd already been seeing her from time to time. They probably meet every time he worked and fucked there then he'd come home to me and give me kisses like he hadn't been exchanging saliva with another woman.

It hurt me. I could still feel the throbbing pain in my chest like something sharp was being pressed into it. I couldn't breathe properly, especially when Timothy was this close to me right now.

"It's the middle of the night," Timothy says, his hand pulling away from me and resting it on his knee while he squats down on the floor. He looks down for a while, like he was looking for any bugs under the bed then looked back up to me. "Can we talk now? There's no better time to talk about this."

I blankly stare at him then sighed. I get up and lean my upper body on the headrest and frown down at him. "How would you explain to me what happened when it was already obvious as it was?" I spoke, my voice in its just-woke-up pitch.

"I fired her." He says.

I blinked at him then looked away, "That doesn't change the fact you fucked her-"

His hand held my thigh firmly but gentle enough to show he was assuring me, "I never slept with her. Nothing happened between us."

"I'm not blind, Timothy." I bite back. I still didn't look over to him. That's when I feel the tears streaming down my cheek, yet I didn't bother wiping them away. He immediately notices anyway.

He proceeds to come closer and embraces me tightly. This time I look down and started shaking while my mouth was on the verge of sobbing.

"I'm so sorry." He tells me as he pulls my chin to look at him. He looked tired. His hair was disheveled like he hadn't tried to fix it. His eyes were empty and sad while he put on this sad smile which now turned into a frown. He looked so vulnerable, and I almost gave into my instincts to reach out and comfort him. There was only one thing stopping me from doing so.

Did he even deserve my love now? Do I want to forgive him? Absolutely. I would believe him rather than I'd believe myself. I swore myself to this man. I swore that I would always love him 'till death do us part.

I swallow down the knot in my throat. "I think we need to have a break, Timothy," I tell him. As if he wasn't depressed enough, his face looked like he just about gave up right then and there. Like everything was taken from him.

He raises his hand to caress my hair, "Okay." Then, he stands up and pulls me in to kiss me on the forehead. It was long like he planned on staying there forever until he finally pulled away. "I'm going to shower. I canceled all my business meetings."