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Chapter Seventy-Eight

Kathy went over and gave Andre a slight peck on the cheek, which he wiped off immediately. Typical, I thought expressionlessly. I was a fool for thinking André could ever change. I saw Kathy smile meekly at him—a smile that did not reach her eyes—before turning to me. Andre did not return her smile, nor did he look at her.

His attention was concentrated on me, and this made my face flush red from embarrassment. What is he doing? I wondered. His wife is right there. The least he can do is respect her. But I have never known Andre to respect any woman except for his mother. That one had him under a special spell.

Kathy tapped my arm gently. “We should be on our way.”

“Oh,” I said, shaking myself out of the thoughts that consumed me. I allowed him to lead me out of the house, not sparing either Andre or the house, which had been my home for five years, a second glance. “So long, Andre,” I muttered under my breath.

“I am sorry for keeping you waiting,” Kathy apologised as soon as we were
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