He was working late at the firm again, something that happened more and more often. A part of her hoped it was because of his cute new secretary. Maybe he would wreck it all, do something she could finally respect, instead of suffocating her with his pitiful devotion. It wasn’t like she hadn’t considered doing it herself—crash a couple atoms together and everything goes boom. But she always came home to him, he always came home to her, and they always went to sleep touching. There were things about Jonathan she loved–for all his dogged perfection she preferred his flaws, like the way he sucked the soup off his spoon. It turned her deranged, so she made soup all the time and they fucked like rabid animals after. She let the cocktail sit on her tongue, enjoying the warm tingle of the rye and thinking about soup.
alizahaskal
Comentários