My Wife And Her Male Boss Are On A Business Trip And Share A Room. She Asked Me To Bring Her Undergarments-2
December 16, 2025
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My Protest Fell on Deaf Ears
I sat still, listening to the kitchen faucet's rush, the heaviness in my chest settling like lead. Life resumed—Tracy left for work each morning, returned to cook dinner (or I did), and we watched TV, discussing trivialities. Yet Jack's name lingered like a shadow. During a show, the heroine's boss exuded authority. Tracy interjected, "Tsk, that presence reminds me of our Jack." While I changed a lightbulb on a weekend, she steadied the ladder below: "Heard Jack renovated his country villa himself—design to construction. What boundless energy."
Trust in Jeopardy
Even after a company golf outing, she returned slapping her sunburned arms ruefully: "Dead last. Jack nearly made the amateur top three, though." Each mention pierced like a thorn. "Tracy," I finally snapped, dropping the remote after she praised Jack's coffee machine suggestion, "can we discuss something else? Anything but him?" My voice strained with weariness. She glanced up from her phone, perplexed and irritated.
News of the Trip
"What now? I'm just stating facts—the new machine works better. Mike, your jealousy is absurd! I've told you a thousand times: he's a colleague!" Her voice rose as she set her phone aside. "Do you trust me at all?" "I trust you come home," I held her gaze, "but not him. I dislike how he looks at you, how close he stands, how often his name fills your lips." I tried to articulate more than envy. "Looks? Distance?" Tracy rolled her eyes theatrically. "Please! That's normal socialization! Isn't chatting at company dinners standard? What are you implying?"
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I sat still, listening to the kitchen faucet's rush, the heaviness in my chest settling like lead. Life resumed—Tracy left for work each morning, returned to cook dinner (or I did), and we watched TV, discussing trivialities. Yet Jack's name lingered like a shadow. During a show, the heroine's boss exuded authority. Tracy interjected, "Tsk, that presence reminds me of our Jack." While I changed a lightbulb on a weekend, she steadied the ladder below: "Heard Jack renovated his country villa himself—design to construction. What boundless energy."
Trust in Jeopardy
Even after a company golf outing, she returned slapping her sunburned arms ruefully: "Dead last. Jack nearly made the amateur top three, though." Each mention pierced like a thorn. "Tracy," I finally snapped, dropping the remote after she praised Jack's coffee machine suggestion, "can we discuss something else? Anything but him?" My voice strained with weariness. She glanced up from her phone, perplexed and irritated.
News of the Trip
"What now? I'm just stating facts—the new machine works better. Mike, your jealousy is absurd! I've told you a thousand times: he's a colleague!" Her voice rose as she set her phone aside. "Do you trust me at all?" "I trust you come home," I held her gaze, "but not him. I dislike how he looks at you, how close he stands, how often his name fills your lips." I tried to articulate more than envy. "Looks? Distance?" Tracy rolled her eyes theatrically. "Please! That's normal socialization! Isn't chatting at company dinners standard? What are you implying?"
NEXT >>