“I don’t remember his face.” Her eyes brighten with an unnatural shine as she holds on to the desk with both hands. “Then what did you see in the memory?” “Just that he was, um, half-naked and I wrapped my arms around his neck and said my husband wouldn’t like this.” She watches me closely, her face pale as if she’s a prisoner waiting for a sentence. I resist a smile. It was me.
This asshole
