Chapter 6 ACTUAL

KATRINA'S P O V

‘‘You know what? Cohen is treating you like a dog; you obey all of his commands and do as he says...'' Tina said, shifting the gear to reverse, and drive out of the garage. ‘‘When will you learn your lessons, Katrina?’’

Here we go again…

Hearing her rant once again made my eyes roll at her in secret. I couldn’t blame her though. I was aware that with just one call coming from my husband, I would come sprinting his way with my arms wide open. That’s how much I love him.

‘‘And what are you wearing?’’ Tina added, taking her eyes off the road for a moment to look at me, tracing her gaze all the way up and down my body, and then refocused her eyes to the road. ‘‘Are you planning on having sex with him tonight?’’

‘‘Of course not!’’ I gasped at her statement, heat instantly crawled up my face as the realization dawned on me that she was basing her comment on the way I was dressed. ‘‘Tina, I'm not doing this for Cohen, but for his mom. I don't want to make her feel down once she finds out about what’s happening between me and her son…’’

My mother-in-law has always been so fond of me and cared for me. She did not feel furious when I went missing and got pregnant, and instead, tried to comprehend the circumstance because she had always liked me for her son. I felt a deep sense of gratitude for that.

‘‘But her son is a cheater!’’ Tina exclaimed, her chest heaved up and down in fury. ‘‘For all you know, he may be having sex with a woman in his apartment right this very second! Most likely with that famous singer again!’’

I chose to remain silent, keeping my mouth shut, and letting her continue on talking and talking, since I anticipated that she would ultimately get tired of berating me and quit doing so.

After twenty minutes had gone, Tina pulled up in front of Cohen's apartment, the two-storey house came into view, and as I gazed up at his room, where heavy curtains concealed what was going on within, I felt a rapid acceleration in the rhythm of my heartbeat.

‘‘Thank you, Tina…'' I said, to which she responded with a slight nod, and she immediately drove off as soon as I planted both feet firmly on the ground.

I immediately made my way to the entryway of Cohen's apartment, taking a deep breath before I lifted my hand to ring the doorbell. I waited for a few seconds before I pressed the bell again when no one answered.

Even though I had a spare key with me, I decided not to use it. I just couldn’t forget the time when Cohen talked to me about his privacy.

But ten minutes had already passed, and Cohen still not opening the door. I even tried to call him over the phone a few times, but he wasn’t picking up either.

My eyes were quickly drawn to the doorknob, and I reached out with my shaky hand to twist it open, and surprisingly it wasn't locked.

I slowly pushed the door open, and as soon as I stepped into the familiar living room, my senses were assaulted by the unpleasant sight and smell. There were empty bottles of wine scattered on the floor, and two empty wine glasses sat on top of the table.

My eyes narrowed as I made my way to the kitchen and checked the contents of the fridge, where I discovered that it was packed with food. I was aware that Cohen always drank in the evening without eating dinner, so I would stock the fridge with food so that if he ever got hungry, he wouldn't have to leave the house to find something to eat.

My eyes caught a sight of a box of pizza laying atop the dining table as I made my way back to the living room. However, what attracted my attention was the dress that was sitting next to it, piled with a pair of black underwear.

That’s when I smelled something different. The atmosphere was permeated with a lustful and alluring scent. I attempted to alleviate the queasy sensation that I was experiencing by covering my hand over my mouth and nose.

I ran my way upstairs, my jaw clenching, ready to confront Cohen, but I made a complete halt when I heard moanings as I approached his bedroom. My knuckles whitened, and my fingers tightly gripped the purse I was carrying.

I stopped right in front of his door, and there was no doubt at what I was hearing. I should be used to him betraying and cheating on me because of what I did five years ago, but it still hurt me like it was the first time I witnessed him doing this.

Clutching the bodice of my little pink dress, as if I can keep my heart from bleeding hurt again, I told myself to close the remaining steps leading to the door of his room. But I hesitated, thinking that I couldn’t handle it this time.

It was such an idiotic decision on my part to listen to him and come here. Tina tried to warn me, but I didn't pay attention to what she had to say. I refused to hear it. My brain cells seemed to break with just one glance in his way, and I found myself following his come-hither smile like a cat on the scent of discarded food.

‘‘Yes! Oh God, fuck! You’re so fucking good, Cohen!’’

It was strange that a warm tingle traveled down my spine, which was interesting since I was furious as hell.

The voices in my head were telling me to retreat. That I didn’t want to see this.

But my feet moved forward three steps, and my hand was unable to reach the doorknob. Cohen left the door ajar. Did he do it on purpose since he anticipated my arrival?

I focused on maintaining my composure by taking slow, even breaths through my nose trying to remain silent as tears burned my eyes.

This is very different from last night. I have to witness now how they do it in actual.

‘‘Spread it wider…’’ He groaned.

I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep myself from making any sound. Careful not to make my presence known. My heart pounded in my throat as I peeked into his room, despite the booming voice in my head shouting to just walk away.

But I couldn’t. My attention was immediately drawn to the young woman with red hair who was laying on the bed with her legs spread wider. She was naked save for a pair of red shoes and a sultry grin as she glanced up at Cohen, who was on top of her, thrusting in and out of her glistening folds.

I wiped the moisture from my eyes with quick, furious movements. I was angry at him, and angry at myself for being unable to tear my gaze away from the scene as he continued to pound into her while his hands massaged her double D breasts.

‘‘Oh my God, Cohen… You feel so damn good…’’ she moaned, her hand reached out to play with her folds.

As I watched them, I asked the very basis of my being, wading through the tumultuous feelings that were raging inside of me.

Feelings of rage, betrayal, and, yes, even intrigued, because I've always had the desire to be in her shoes right at this moment.

What would it be like to have me in the arms of my husband, to feel confident enough to spread my legs like a whore in front of him, and to savor each and every moment of it? Would he maintain eye contact with me the entire time we were making love? Would the lustful glint in his stare give me a sense of empowerment?

I wanted to experience all of these things, because in my five years of marriage with him, he never once touched me.