“Alright, I'll fetch you some,” Christopher said. In no time, he came back with two bottles of red wine and vodka.
Having worked in the line of sales that involved a lot of socializing in the past, I had built up a strong tolerance for alcohol. As such, I was still rather sober after downing half a bottle of wine. As I tried to gulp down the remaining liquid, Christopher swiftly removed the bottle from my hand.
He stared deep into my eyes as he chided, “Binge drinking is bad for you.” A glint of sorrow flashed across his eyes.
“Please let me drink. You see, I've had a crush on Lyle for ten years, and married him for two. Why is it that in his eyes, I'm nothing but a whore? Tell me, what have I done wrong?”
Christopher finally relented and handed the wine bottle back to me. As I resumed my drinking, I started telling him my story with Lyle; how I used to have a secret crush on him, how he always humiliated me, and how he then dangled hope in front of me.
Lyle, you're so cruel. Why did you marry me if you didn't love me? Why do you always give me new hopes when I think all is lost, only to crush them all by having an affair?