Leaving for the airport at 5am to catch my 8 hours flight to Milan is exhausting. Finally arriving at the hotel close to midnight, local time, I can't wait to put my body in a flat surface that's bigger than that business class seat. "This way, Miss Tanner," the bellboy gestures his hand towards the left that I nod and smile at him, following his footsteps that later brings me to the elevator. There are a few other guests taking the same elevator and whenever we stop at a floor, I get anxious as I don't remember what floor we are going to; right after the receptionist handed over the key card, I just dropped it into my bag along with my wallet and phone. Considering I'm bringing a large tote bag, and that key card could've been deep underneath other stuff, I resort to using the bellboy's card instead of rummaging my bag in front of others. Finally, after everyone has gone to their floor, the elevator dings and I open my tired eyes, half yawning, "We're here?" "Yes, Miss Tanner," h

I can't just 'whatever' her, because I love her. Even if I want to 'whatever' her so bad, I care. I fucking care about her. I care every bit of her to the point of noticing even the littlest thing, of how she has changed these days as if she's trying to distance herself from me. Every time I arrive at the penthouse after tucking the twins to bed, I would always find her already sleeping. For God sake, it was only 8pm when I got there but she had already dozed off either on the bed or on the couch, in her work clothes. At first I wondered if she had been staying up when I go home after we finish fucking, if she continued working until late at night hence the lack of sleep. But it happened every single day. She couldn't be working every night, and back then before the fight, she never did this so...I hate to think this is one of her ways to not have sex with me- I had to be this inconsiderate, horny old man who'd wake a tired, snoring lady just to claim his good time. Sounds like a

'Disappear from my life for all I care, you're dead to me.'I'm awake in tears as I've been the past four days. The same line keeps on looping in my mind when I'm in subconscious mind and eventually forces me to wake up in the middle of the night that I'd cry until I've fallen asleep again or the morning comes. I keep my eyes closed despite the tears staining my cheeks, because it sucks to open your eyes to this dark, cold night only to realise I'm pathetically crying alone in my bed. "I swear I'm not lying, I swear Augustine. I really didn't plan for this." I swear with my own life that I don't plan for this baby. I swear I never planned to use anything against him. I'm beyond grateful to spend time with the twins once a month, why would I do something to upset him when I'm trying my best to make him happy so I can see the twins every Sunday instead of just fourth Sundays.'We haven't been pregnant the whole time and you expect me to believe that now? When I've confessed my feeling

I don't know what else to do I'm seriously so fucking tired from the work, Eve, and the kids. It's only been four weeks but I feel like I'm already reaching my maximum capacity of tolerating this. Every day I would wake up in Eve's little bed, kiss her good morning and tell her how much I love her, how sorry I still am, and off I go to my house so I can shower and have breakfast with the kids before sending them to school. Work for the whole 8 hours, then pick up Eve from her work place, send her home, back to the kids to have dinner with them and tuck them in bed before going to the apartment to spend the night with my wife. Uhh, ex wife. Mother of my children. I'm tired with this routine, and I feel worse when Eve still won't talk to me. I shouldn't complain because I'm the one who caused all of these but I'm just ranting out here. I don't know what I did, that made Eve refused to talk to me till this day, but I'm beat. So the last trick in my book would be this, bringing her

For God sake, fuck me already. He has been sticking his hard cock between our body every single night for three months now and yet he hasn't done anything about it. I'm sure I haven't gotten fat, only my tummy is going out a bit but other than that, I'm still wearing the same size. So what's happening? Why isn't he fucking me anymore? Does he want me to fuck him? Like I did before? When he called me his mistress?But I am still thinking. I am still in that thinking (or if we were to be precise; trying-to-accept-his-apology) period so it should be him who does the fucking. Afterall, he's the one who thinks with the dick all the time so what's happening? Why is he not that barbaric, egoistic, sex maniac man anymore? "Are you working today?" He asks on our way to the car after we're done with the monthly check-up. Our babies are healthy and growing, I'm officially in my second trimester now. He opens the door for me so I slip inside the car and sit in the passenger seat. He gets in