The Girl I Funded Betrayed Me
Language: en
New Year's Eve, two in the morning, I rushed home through the snow. The moment I pulled back the covers, a strong scent of perfume hit me in the face. This wasn't my perfume. Then I felt something sticky on the bed, and beside the pillow lay a long strand of blonde hair. I stared at my sleeping husband, Warren. He suddenly jerked awake, stammering: "You... how did you get back early?" I forced down my nausea and didn't lose my temper. Instead, I sent a message to that college girl I'd been supporting for four years, who was currently sleeping in the guest room: [Are you asleep? I prepared…