Inside Affair Book Novels & Stories

I felt humiliated and exposed, and I wanted nothing more than to run away and hide. As if that wasn't enough, the woman then turned to the crowd, her voice booming, "Ladies and gentlemen, I want to tell you the truth about Tom. He's been lying to all of us, but especially to Ava," She pointed at me, and I felt a flush of shame wash over me, "Tom has been having an affair with me for the past year. And now, he's trying to hide the truth from all of you." The room went silent, and the crowd stared at us in shock.

He was now dying of curiosity about what happened to Briana and Rosita today. "I'll fill you in on the details and make it short." George cleared his throat and continued, "All these times, Briana was having an affair with her stepbrother Jack behind our back. And she is currently pregnant with their baby. After she confessed the truth, of course, Rosita was outraged because she insisted that it was incest. So she insulted my daughter and called her bitch and slut over and over again, which got Briana mad, and she accidentally slapped Rosita on the cheek, and now my wife wants my daughter to leave the house because she can't stomach seeing her face every day."

I said. Owen hesitated, but he made the call. If she came for me right away, I'd forgive everything, the affair, the baby, all of it. One second, two seconds, three, and then the flat tone of a rejected call. They were already out of sight, but I kept staring in the direction they'd gone. Something hardened inside me in that moment, something I couldn't let go of. Owen looked at me but said nothing. "Call again." He dialed. She hung up again.

But hearing his breath turn heavy and shallow in the other side of the booth did something to me. My chest tightened. I remembered how handsome he looked yesterday, how rugged those broad shoulders were, how he didn't look like a priest at all. Suddenly, a wave of real heat pooled right between my thighs. I was getting wet. Real wet. And the realization only made me bolder. I leaned back on the bench, pulling my long dark skirt all the way up to my waist. I lifted my legs, spreading them wide in the cramped, dark space, resting my feet against the wooden walls.

I opened my browser and found the article. It was polished. It was almost elegant. It generously praised my medical accomplishments before quietly, systematically dismantling my character. Respected physician. Dedicated professional. Demanding schedule. Long hours. Emotional distance. It suggested—never outright stated, but heavily implied—that Marcus had spent years trying in vain to save a cold, lonely marriage. That two people had simply grown apart. That another relationship had naturally, innocently developed only afterward. The affair became a tragic afterthought. The financial betrayal disappeared entirely. In this impeccably crafted narrative, there was no Birchwood house. There were

Aaron snapped. My face hardened as I muttered chillingly, "A filthy man like you who is desperate to catch his wife having an affair while he proudly flaunts his mistress doesn’t have any shame anyway. So, take your mistress with you and get the hell out of my sight right now." I stepped inside the room shutting the door firmly behind me. I strode towards the bookshelf and pressed the switch hidden behind the books. A soft click echoed through the room. The bookshelf rumbled as it slid aside, revealing a concealed door. I pushed it open.