T.S

Everyone knew I was pregnant—except my husband, Sean.
On the day I received my pregnancy test results, Sean asked for a divorce.
"Let's get a divorce. Christina is back."
“I know you’re pissed,” he murmured. “Let me make it up to you.”
His hands found my waist, warm and unyielding, sliding down the curve of my spine to cup my ass.
I pushed against his chest, half-heartedly, my resolve crumbling as he pressed me back onto the bed.
“You’re an asshole,” I breathed, even as I felt him nudge closer, the tip of him brushing my entrance.
Then the phone rang—sharp, insistent—snapping us out of the haze.
It was Christina.
So I disappeared, carrying a secret I hoped my husband would never discover.