Annabelle turned to face him, her voice trembling with weariness.
"Just tell me what you want from me instead of playing these cheap games. You know I've always tried to help you, but you just keep hurting me."
Martin was quiet for a moment before finally answering.
"There's something I want, and I can only get it through you. He wants you, Annabelle. Just for a night, and you wouldn't accept it if I told you."
Her eyes widened in horror, her jaw falling slack. It was what she had feared. The suspicion she'd been trying not to believe crashed over her. Her heart pounded, rage and resentment burning through her.
"I'm your wife for Christ's sake!" she yelled, her voice breaking. "How could you, Martin? Do I look like a commodity you could throw at any man? Don't you feel anything for me after ten years together before marriage?"
Tears gleamed in her eyes, mingled with pain.
Martin's face hardened. "I didn't love you, Annabelle. I never did."
