He Called Me Dirty, He Was The One Cheating Chapter 01

He Called Me Dirty, He Was The One Cheating Chapter 01

Before Damon Sterling married me, he made me get eight gynecological exams.

He said he had a psychological purity complex. Without that piece of paper, he couldn’t get past the wall in his own head.

I felt humiliated. But I loved him, so I went.

Until our wedding night, when Damon shoved me away in the middle of it.

“You’ve been with someone else. You disgust me.”

He said it like he was pronouncing a death sentence.

I tried to explain it was from an accident in high school gym class. He let out a cold laugh. “That’s what every non-virgin says.”

For the next three years, he never touched me. He wouldn’t even hand me a glass without avoiding my fingers.

I kept thinking time would change him.

Until the day I worked late and went to his office at Sterling Corp to get his signature.

The door was slightly open. Damon was in his CEO chair, completely naked, and the girl under him was playfully whining and telling him to let go.

His voice was gentler than I’d ever heard it. “Stop squirming. If you catch a cold, I’ll worry.”

I stood in the doorway, and the documents slipped from my hand to the floor.

He heard the sound and turned. Not a flicker of panic crossed his face.

“Wait outside. I’ll get dressed and we’ll talk.”

I didn’t move.

Damon Sterling, you’re the one who’s disgusting.

***

“Ugh, this is your fault. Your wife saw us.” A girl’s coy laughter drifted from inside.

Damon’s tone didn’t carry a trace of panic. It almost sounded indulgent. “I’ll have my assistant take you home. Bundle up so you don’t catch a cold.”

I stood outside, and the cold hallway air made me shiver.

The door opened.

Lauren Vance walked out with Damon’s bespoke suit jacket draped over her shoulders.

As she passed me, she stopped and lowered her voice.

“Damon says you’re boring. That you just lie there in bed. I’m the only one who can satisfy him.”

She adjusted the oversized jacket, and a dark hickey showed at the edge of the collar.

I ignored her provocation.

Damon walked out of the office.

He slowly fastened the top button of his shirt, perfectly composed, as if nothing had just happened.

Lauren casually reached up to straighten his crooked tie.

He didn’t even glance at me. He just lowered his head slightly to let her fix it.

“What are you doing here?”

I held out the project approval I’d spent three months securing.

His hand stopped halfway. His eyes landed on my fingertips, and he hesitated almost imperceptibly.

Then he took the document by one corner, deliberately avoiding any contact with my skin.

For three years of marriage, he’d avoided my hand even when passing a glass.

I used to think it was a physical barrier he couldn’t overcome, some symptom of his psychological purity complex.

Turns out the psychological barrier was me.

“Come on. I’ll drive you home.” He turned and walked toward the elevator.

The air inside the car was sweet, carrying a faint trace of perfume.

Damon drove and said, “Don’t tell anyone about today.”

He glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his tone laced with warning.

“Lauren is young. She just started at the company. She can’t handle ugly rumors.”

I stared at the streetlights passing outside the window and spoke softly.

“What about me?”

Damon frowned, and a trace of impatience crept into his voice. “As Mrs. Sterling, you should know your place.”

“I’m just having some fun with her. You’re still the one who gets to be Mrs. Sterling. What more do you want?”

I turned to look at his cold, self-important face.

Three years ago, after my eighth gynecological exam, I sat in a hospital corridor holding the cold lab results and cried until I shook.

I called him, and he only said one thing.