Proserpina

I swallowed hard, my face turning pale as I met my husband’s eyes. He had the look of a man who was doing his best to control his temper. His thick fists were clenched tight as he held himself rigidly.

‘Woman’ he growled,’ I want to talk to Schwartz.

And as I opened my mouth to speak, he said, his voice a roar,

‘Get the f*ck away from here, woman. I said NOW!’

I stepped back, hurt by his tone, and turned. I fled inside, trying not to cry.

That he had judged me without listening to me hurt me deeply. After those torrid nights of passion we spent,...