The Other Mistress by Shanora Williams EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Shanora Williams
- Language: English
- Genre: Psychological Thrillers
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
When I think of her death, I think of drowning.
She sinks with thick rope tangled around her wrists. Despite the
murkiness of the water, she’s looking right at me—splashing, thrashing.
She’s reaching out for me, and I have the urge to jump in and save her,
but I can’t. I’m stuck in place, wide-eyed, as a thick blanket of fog
surrounds me. My lungs feel heavier, my heart beats slower. She screams my
name between gasps and blubbers. I reach for her, but a stronger hand
shoves mine away.
Then the splashing ceases.
She sinks slowly, eyes wide open.
She’s gone. She is no more.
ADIRA
Two Months Ago
No onetruly knows their partner, do they? I mean really, really know them,
down to the mysterious depths of their souls and the hardness of their core.
You can spend years with the same person, creating memories, growing
together, blossoming into one . . . but you’ll never truly know what’s going
on inside their heads.
You’ll never have access to that dark, dark corner—the space in the mind
where every human keeps their wildest fantasies, their most wicked, primal
thoughts, and pitch-black secrets. We all have these corners—every single
one of us, even the sweetest, most kindhearted people have a sliver of
darkness lurking in the crevices of their brains.
These are the things I think about when I look at my husband. He sits
across from me in our kitchen, sipping his coffee as he focuses on the
screen of his phone. What is he reading? An email? A text?
He presses his pink lips after each sip from the mug that has the words
Rugby Is Life in a fat, bold font. It was a gift from one of the other coaches
on his team.
I absorb everything about my husband, as if I’m looking at him for the
first time again. There’s that familiar arch of his nose, the sharp angle of his
jaw. His skin appears smooth, like brown velvet, his cheekbones shaped in a
godlike manner. His goatee has been trimmed neatly, courtesy of his barber,
Kenneth.
The silver hair near his temples shimmers from the sunlight streaming
through the arched casement windows next to us and I can’t believe there
was a time when I loved the gray hair on him. The maturity of it once made
me feel womanly and vulnerable to him and seeing as he was five years
older than I was, well, his age had always been a delicious factor. Now, I
feel my belly churning at the sight of it.
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