SPF on Her Skin, A Knife in My Heart
I'm seven months pregnant when my husband's close female friend, Suzy Ruffalo, invited us to a beach party.
The sun is blazing, so I stay tucked under a parasol, quietly scrolling through my phone.
Suddenly, Suzy wanders over and swings herself onto my husband's lap. "Hurry up and put the sunscreen on me! Don't just put it on my chest this time. I don't want to wake up tomorrow with my boobs two shades lighter."
For a moment, I wonder if I've heard her wrong.
My husband, Ted Cohen, casually picks up the sunscreen and starts rubbing it on her chest without hesitation. "Your boobs are tiny to begin with. I'm helping you to make it fairer so that it looks bigger."
Suzy slaps his shoulder in annoyance. "How's that your business? You said my bikini area was darker the previous time."
The rest of the guys started whistling.
When Ted rubs the sunscreen just below her navel, he subconsciously glances at me. However, Suzy grabs his hand and shoves it lower.
"Don't worry, Nina. He's touched this area so many times he's immune by now. It's just sunscreen. There's no need to get jealous over this, yeah?"
I snort and look away to book a time for the divorce agreement.
I will not be jealous, but they're both going to be on the receiving end of my slaps.