Chapter 247 The Good Wife's Secret Ch8

• Morning drips soft through the high windows — gold streaks on cold sheets she hasn’t touched since he left her there after. Her robe is gone — somewhere in the hallway where he dragged it off her hips so fast she didn’t remember to pick it up when her knees buckled on the wood.
• She stands at the bathroom mirror now.
• Fingers trembling where they skim the faint purple bruise under her jaw — the deeper ones lower, hidden where silk can’t quite hide the teeth marks blooming on her inner thigh.