Cuckold by Amber Leigh

Author:Amber Leigh [Amber Leigh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ebury Publishing
Published: 2010-07-31T00:00:00+00:00

Eleven

‘Either tell the bitch to fuck off, or learn to live with it.’

Edwin waited to hear what else Desdemona had to say before heeding his brother’s advice. His hands shook and the air that came from his lungs was released in small, measured sighs. The holiday brochures were spread before them on the coffee table but, rather than looking at their glossy pages, he could only stare at his wife. ‘You said it had been a hard year,’ he reminded her. She had spoken those words less than an hour ago. It seemed as if a lifetime had passed since then. The afternoon wasn’t yet over, and he had only spent a morning in the office, yet so much had happened it was like trying to remember events from a previous century. With the lounge curtains open, and early evening light dwindling from the room, it felt as though at least twenty-four hours had passed since their time in the dusky twilight of Desdemona’s bedroom. Edwin placed his hand over hers. ‘You said it had been a hard year. Tell me about it?’

She nodded. In the silence that nestled between them he understood she was composing her thoughts. When she spoke her voice was calm and even. ‘I spent the first year of our marriage hoping the sex would get better. I spent the second year berating myself for being so stupid during that first year. I invested in a lot of toys and tried to keep myself satisfied with dildos, vibrators and other paraphernalia. But doing it alone gets boring eventually, so I made up my mind to have another man.’

Edwin shivered.

They sat close to each other on the lounge settee. The coffee table before them was hidden beneath the array of glossy brochures but that was the closest the room had ever come to looking untidy. The Dresden china on the mantelpiece stood in uniform rows: each piece polished and proud. There were two framed oils on the walls and they were both Desdemona’s originals. The flattering portrait of Edwin’s face squared his jaw more than genetics had ever managed and gave his gaze a glint of steel that he had never assumed in real life. The facing image of Desdemona showed her nude but with her arms and legs wrapped around herself so that her modesty was kept firmly intact. Desdemona’s self portrait had always confused Edwin because it showed a naked woman who looked like she was bound by invisible restraints. He wondered if, after today, the painting would continue to confuse him. The remainder of the room was a relaxing collection of beige and fawn. He always thought it epitomised their marriage. Every opulent fixture and furnishing had been funded from his income. But it had all been selected and creatively put together with Desdemona’s artistic flair. The result was a room that was relaxing and comfortable but still stylish enough to impress. Now he wondered if that did reflect their marriage. Or only what he expected they should have.

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