My Husband's Affair My Anniversary Gift (Lily and David) novel Chapter 102

“David…”

Marina’s voice was low, almost trembling, as she stood near the entrance of the living room. She had followed him all the way from the gala to his house, barely able to keep up with his long, restless strides. He hadn’t said a single word since Lily left. Not a single look, not a single explanation.

Now, inside his house, David went straight to the bar. He loosened his tie harshly, threw it on the counter, and reached for the bottle. Without even bothering for a glass at first, he tilted it back and swallowed a long gulp. His Adam’s apple moved sharply as he drank, his jaw clenched, eyes heavy with something Marina couldn’t name.

She stood there frozen for a while, watching him. The way his shoulders slumped forward, the way his hand trembled just slightly when he poured the liquor into a glass. He looked broken.

And it scared her.

“David,” she whispered again, taking a hesitant step forward.

He ignored her. The only sound in the room was the sharp clink of glass against the counter as he set it down, then poured again. His movements were rough, careless, like a man trying to drown something that refused to die.

Finally, Marina couldn’t hold it in anymore. The words tore out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“Do you… do you love her? Do you love Lily?”

David’s hand froze halfway to his lips, the glass just under his mouth. Slowly, he lowered it back down. For a moment he just stared at the amber liquid inside, as if it would give him an answer.

Then, without warning, a humorless laugh slipped out of him. It was cold, bitter, almost mocking.

“Love her? Lily?” His lips curled, but there was no smile. “That’s impossible.”

He turned his head, his eyes finding Marina at last. But his gaze wasn’t soft. It was sharp, cutting, and she flinched under it.

“Don’t say nonsense.”

Marina’s chest squeezed painfully. She rushed forward and grabbed his arm, holding it tightly like he might vanish if she let go. Tears spilled from her eyes before she could stop them.

“Speak,” David muttered into the receiver. His voice was hoarse.

It was his assistant, asking about damage control. “Make sure not a single news goes out,” David said coldly, rubbing his temple with his free hand.

As he spoke, Marina quietly reached for his glass. Her hands moved fast, practiced. She slipped the pill into the drink and poured liquor over it, watching it dissolve without a sound.

By the time David ended the call, she had already set the glass back exactly where it had been.

He didn’t notice. He picked it up and drank, desperate for the burn, desperate for the numbness.

For a few minutes, nothing. He poured again, drank again. Then, slowly, his body betrayed him.

David rubbed his temple, frowning. His vision blurred slightly, the room tilting at the edges. He hadn’t drunk that much, he knew his limits. Something was wrong. Heat crawled up his neck, his chest, his whole body tingling in a strange, restless way.