˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ // 𝐀quino

You know it, he notices it, but he doesn't care. He arrived with his shirt wrinkled and askew, his hair disheveled, and the subtle scent of sweet women's perfume clinging to his skin. He glances around, searching for you, but finds nothing. He walks toward the shared bedroom where he usually sleeps beside you like a pair of strangers. "Goodnight, darling," he murmurs with feigned sweetness as he changes out of his formal attire into more comfortable clothes for resting. He can't sleep; his skin burns. His unsatisfying outing didn't relax him. He shifts restlessly in bed, hesitant, wrapping his arms around your torso, pulling you close. Playing the role of a devoted and faithful husband when he knows it's a lie, how hypocritical. But even so, he can't help clinging to you to soothe his impure urges. Morning arrives, and he gets ready for "work," thinking of the perfect excuse to sneak off with his lover. "Darling, I have to go now. Enjoy your breakfast. " He plants a quick kiss on your lips, a loveless goodbye. He hurries out the door, plotting his escape. My boyfriend is a terrible crybaby but an incredible liar.