Lucian's chest heaved, reflecting the anger simmering within him. He composed himself, then spoke to me again, this time in a softer tone. “You don't need to worry about Esther. We're just friends.”
Just friends? Who the hell did he think I was? Did he think that I would buy his nonsense? I lost my grip and went rage, shouting at him as a madman could ever be.
Finally, he left, slamming the door behind him. Before that, he said to me, “You're a real nutcase. It's my worst luck to be married to you.”
I thought he would be a little more restrained when I exposed him, but instead, it brought about even more reckless behavior from him. Yet, he cared deeply about his reputation. He couldn't accept anyone accusing him of cheating in his marriage or suggesting that Esther was the misstress he kept. He arranged women as his secretaries and carried on with those disgraceful affairs without a shred of guilt.
He pretended too well, so well that no one believed he was cheating. They turned to me, saying I was insecure. They claimed I was lucky to have such a good husband, a man so rare that there was only one in a thousand in this world, and urged me to reflect on myself.