I hurriedly pick up the remains of my clothes from the floor and throw them in the bin. I leave his clothes folded on a chair in the room and discard the condom packet in the kitchen waste bin. I don't know why I'm trying to hide this now, she's already seen it, and I'm guessing by the raised voices, she's making it clear.
Like a guilty, dirty secret, I'm his mistress and she's the wife showing up and catching us. I'm scurrying around trying to erase what I've done; I'm also trying not to listen at the door and my heart is doing some sort of "Cha Cha" as I rush in circles. I'm completely out of control, all traces of PA Emma banished, my palms are clammy and cold, and I feel physically sick.
I creep back to my room and turn on the shower. I need to clean his smell off me, eradicate the m
