The sound of intense panting and an amorous air surrounded me. A soft moan marked the end of that gratifying session between the pair. From the corner of my eye, I could secretly see the pair intertwined in bed. Agony and weariness crept all over me.Yet, there was nothing I could do. The woman on the bed put on a cardigan, then scooted over to my side. As her sharp nails rubbed against my neck, she asked, "Why are you still keeping her alive? You're not still in love with her, are you?" My husband, Peter Crawford, crawled out of bed and then smoked a cigarette nonchalantly. He snapped out of his daze only when his phone rang. After taking a quick glance, he answered his phone attentively, "Mrs. Gibson, is everything okay?" When the woman heard how Peter addressed his caller, she got back to the side of the bed and blew air at him, titillating him till his breaths began to get a little heavy. From the other end of the call, my mother asked in a concerned voice, "Are you
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