The Neglected Wife's Secret: Genius Designer Aria

hrough the fabric of Felicity's skirt, chilling the back of her thighs. She sat with her knees pressed together, her hands clutching the small Chanel purse in her lap like it

d time in five minutes. Forty-five

cond, their eyes met. It wasn't a look of professional reassurance. It was pity. A soft, curdled kind of pity mixed wit

phone, her thumb hovering over the messaging app. The screen was empty. No messages from Garold. No "G

ion desk, their voices low but not low e

r," one

orning," the other replied,

he didn't want to look. She knew she shouldn't look. But her thumb moved of its own accord, open

d at her: "Garold Chandler Spotted with M

a distance with a telephoto lens, but the silhouette was unmistakable. The woman had long,

he room tilted slightly to the left. She closed her e

Chan

d there. His voice was hesitant, la

r weight. She forced them to stabilize, locking her knees. She smoothed the front

her lightheaded. Dr. Evans shuffled the papers on his clipboard. He looke

voice sounded thin, like it

Everything looks... pristine. Your hormone levels are optimal. Th

him. "Then why? It'

ound discomfort, "when the female partner is healthy, we have to look at the male

sharp sound, like glass breaking. It start

e math of a loveless marriage. You can't conceive a child with a hu

he said. Her voice was

l abruptly silent, pretending to be engrossed in their computer screens. Felicity didn't look at

uzzed in her hand. She looked down. A cale

the words. The

got out and opened the rear door. Felicity slid onto the backseat. The

xt to Garold:

watched the cursor blink. Once. Twice. Then

s, people rushing nowhere. A single tear escaped, sliding hot and fast down her cheek. She