–Livana–
I know my husband is impulsive—recklessly so. He makes a mess, and poor Caine is always left cleaning up the aftermath. Damon is idiotic… but I like him that way. Every marriage needs one fool to keep the balance intact.
I touched my temple, trying to soothe the dull, persistent throb. A disco or a strip club—those places just aren't for me. The screams, the flashing lights, the lewdness of it all—sure, they're fun in the moment, but now the echoes linger. I can still hear the high-pitched squeals of women teetering on the edge of orgasm, ringing like a chorus in the back of my mind. Maybe it's a hangover... but it feels more like a punishment. My head pounds, and even my vision, though I pretend not to have it, is a blur of static behind my closed lids.
"What's wrong?" Damon's voice, low and near, came just as his hand touched my shoulder.
"It's just... my head," I mumbled.
