I keep my teeth clenched together, driving at a sedate pace out of my sister’s neighborhood.
That fucking painting.
It’s one thing to know Savannah and Lee were together. I saw them on a date, with my own damn eyes. But this… That painting… It’s different.
I don’t know why. it’s just fucking different.
Maybe it’s because before, I could pretend that it was nothing. A fling. Unimportant.
But…that fucking painting.
It’s a piece of her. A piece of my wife. And some other man had it.
Not to mention the fact that the slimy piece of shit gave it to his wife as a fucking anniversary gift.
If I had godlike powers, I’d bring Leland back to life just so I could kill him all over again. Only this time, I’d make it slow. And I’d let Aspen and Savannah watch.
My jaw flexes.
Maybe I’d even fuck Savannah in front of him first. Just to prove she belongs to me now.
The annoying voice niggles in the back of my mind, asking me why I care. Why I’m so jealous over a dead man.
But why do I need to justify myself? Savannah is mine, she’s my wife. Whether she wants to be or not.
And it’s not like it’s crazy to be jealous over my wife. Even if her dead ex wasn’t entwined with my family, I’d still want to wipe him from existence.
My hands squeeze the steering wheel.
Maybe I can still do that. She’s got to have some living ex-boyfriends. If I can remove them from the playing board I might feel better.
Next to me, Savannah shifts in the passenger seat.
I know I’m being a dick. She hasn’t done anything to deserve this silent treatment.
She could’ve told me about the painting.
When though? It’s not like I’ve given her a lot of opportunities to talk to me. Not like I’ve given her a lot of reasons to share her secrets.
I glance at her profile.
Tonight. I’ll cool down in my office for a bit, then we’ll talk.
