Sinking into the Sea of Desire: A Wife-Swapping Victim's Confession (A Betrayer's Confession) - Chapter Five: Business Card

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That sob sobered me up considerably. Looking down, I saw tears streaming down my wife's face, her eyes filled with anger and helplessness. I immediately went limp, overwhelmed by a deep sense of guilt. I released my grip on her and reluctantly withdrew from her body.
Once she was free, she pushed me off her with all her might and hid to the side as if avoiding a plague, putting distance between us.
Seeing her reaction, the nameless rage within me reignited. I rolled out of bed, furiously knocking over the bedside lamp, and roared, "I'm your husband! Why are you acting like a fucking rapist?!"
The desk lamp, like a small boat battered by a storm, flew several meters away, cracking with a thud, scattering fragments everywhere. The only light in the room went out, plunging it into darkness, just like my heart at that moment, and our relationship.
I had never truly lost my temper in front of her before, and this was the first time I had broken something in front of her. After my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw her curled up in a corner of the bed, hugging herself, like a wounded kitten, through the faint light coming in from the window.
The guilt gnawed at my heart even more intensely, leaving me at a loss. I wanted to go over and hug her tightly, to say sorry, but as soon as I reached out my hand, she shrank back even further, her eyes filled with defensiveness and wariness.
I was distressed and a little angry. Why would she think I would hurt her? The trust between us had crumbled completely, like two strangers wary of each other. In the end, I didn't reach out my hand. Instead, I angrily slammed my fist against the wall. The wall made a loud thud, but I couldn't feel any pain anymore. I picked up my clothes from the floor, turned around, and walked out of the room.
I don't know if she sensed my distress or if my actions tonight frightened her, but as soon as the door closed, heart-wrenching sobs came from inside the room.
I collapsed against the door, listening to her sobbing inside, but I couldn't go in to comfort her, nor could I wipe away her tears. There was nothing I could do. I was furious at how things had turned out this way, how we had come to this. I crouched down on the floor, burying my face in my arms, trying to escape everything that had happened.
The crying that night lasted a long time, continuing until my voice became hoarse. I lay on the sofa, unable to sleep all night. The mournful weeping lingered in my ears and burrowed into my mind. No matter how I covered my ears, it was no use. I felt a deep sense of guilt.
After a while, my life became regular and clean again. I went home after work and stopped going to bars and drinking.
We stopped arguing, and life returned to a superficial calm. I still love her, and I know she loves me too. We both want to save this relationship and try our best to maintain this marriage, which is why we tacitly pretended that nothing had happened.
But how could I forget the trauma caused by that incident? Perhaps I'm just deliberately forgetting it temporarily! But I feel that the distance between our hearts is getting farther and farther, so far that I can't touch it, so far that it's as if we've never been close.
I don't know how much longer we can hold on—a day? Two days? Or a month? Two months? The road ahead is long, and if we continue like this, there will eventually come a day when we can't take it anymore. When that day comes, it may be the day we part ways forever.
I don't want to end this relationship, this marriage. I'm desperate to find a solution and change our situation.
I took her for walks, shopping trips, gave her flowers and gifts, took her to romantic places, had candlelight dinners, and surprised her in various ways.
Although we seemed happy and sweet together, with her holding my hand and occasionally giving me a kiss on the cheek like before, I could feel that it was like a thirsty person drinking seawater—it only made them thirstier, and eventually they would die of dehydration.
When I was anxiously at a loss, I stumbled upon that business card one day. It was the business card of the woman who had vanished from my life like a dream.
It is entirely black, with a blood-stained red rose printed in the center, just like the person who left this business card, exuding endless allure and leaving people with endless imagination, yet it is something that cannot be seen, grasped, or figured out.

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Sinking into the Sea of Desire: A Wife-Swapping Victim's Confession (A Betrayer's Confession) - Chapter Five: Business Card

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