distance between them. Then she looked out the small window, hoping to see Frank.
"Come on. Give me a chance to renew your memory. You owe me that."
"Sir, my memory might be a little fuzzy, but I promise you that I will never meet with you.” She tried to keep her voice even but the idea of anyone other than Frank touching her made her nauseous.
Irwin leaned over the desk and ran his hand along her cheek. “Don't play like that. You know you like my dick better."
Catherine became enraged. Without thinking of the consequences, she slapped Irwin across the face. The sound, loud, echoed through the tiny trailer.
It also did not hinder Irwin's advances.
His smile grew wider. “I never knew you liked it rough."
He raised his hand. She saw a different man, a man who hit her all the time, a man who sliced her with a knife, the man from her memories. He wanted her dead. He'd never loved her and this time he was going to kill her. But who was he? Where did she know him from? Did he break into their home? Was he a burglar who surprised them? Was that how she got hurt?
Catherine didn't realize that she'd been screaming until the air ran out of her lungs. As the door burst open, she sucked in air, gasped, and pressed herself against the wall of the trailer.
"What happened?” Frank went to her, petting her back.
"He wanted me to...” She couldn't finish the words.
"Your wife is crazy."
Frank rose, anger bubbling through him. Even the tips of his ears reddened. Catherine's vision cleared and she saw Irwin again, the icky foreman. She realized exactly what was going on, but didn't say a word as her husband came to her defense.
For all Frank's gentle behavior, he was a force to be reckoned with when upset. He reached back then moved fast, almost too fast to keep up with. An upper cut to Irwin's jaw was all it took. Irwin stumbled backward.
"Your wife is a whore.” Irwin started forward but the look on Frank's face changed his mind. “I had her plenty of times."
Catherine's mouth fell open, and torrid bits filled her memory. Mingling flesh, arms and legs, in a hotel room, and it had been Irwin and her. Oh no. She had been a whore. There had been others. Different faces filled her mind. The scent of sex and different colognes, different hands, all touching her. Catherine felt hot tears running down her cheeks.
It didn't take Frank a minute to react. He went forward, bloodying Irwin's nose. Irwin swung, but Frank was too fast, giving him another in the gut. Frank opened the trailer door and literally kicked Irwin down the steps.
"You're fired,” he screamed at the top of his lungs.
"I quit.” Irwin spat a trail of blood from his bloodied mouth.
Catherine put her head in her hands and cried. She didn't want to face Frank, not now that she knew what had happened. How many others had she screwed behind Frank's back? Irwin said something about a James, but how many others? She wasn't a wife, she'd become something low, evil.
"Are you okay?” Frank kneeled next to her. “He didn't hurt you, did he?"
She shook her head but couldn't stop crying. Frank seemed like the perfect man and she couldn't imagine what made her do such things. She was too upset to do more than rock back and forth and hope Frank understood. She also had a sneaky suspicion that she'd done much worse.
"Look at me,” his voice soft again, reassuring.
"I can't. I don't know what else I've done wrong.” She wiped her face with the heels of her hands. “I don't think he was lying."
"I know. I told you that you weren't always a good wife.” He hugged her tightly against his body. “I never knew who or how often, but I had my suspicions. It's over now, though. None of it is as important as us right now."
"You can forgive that?” She wasn't sure if she could forgive herself.
"That wasn't you."
She started to protest, saying that it had been her. The memories were sketchy but enough came through that she felt dirty. All she wanted was another
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