Chapter Fourteen
“Harry, this isn’t working for me,” she told me that fateful Saturday morning.
I looked up at her from my position on the kitchen floor where I was busy polishing her shoe collection. It was two weeks on from her amazed and, eventually, grateful acceptance of my offer to try the “female-led marriage” she so desired, and I thought all was working well. She had bought into my reasons for making the suggestion and was happy I was willing to let her get her “fantasy” out of her system, though I hadn’t told her my real reason was simply to wean her off the scrote Jake and to allow her natural intelligence to work out how damaging what she wanted could actually be to our marriage if it meant her losing respect for me.
That it hadn’t worked out quite that way, given my s****l
