engleză
Question: What do you give the Chelsea Housewife who has everything?
Answer: Someone else's husband?
Charlotte had everything. The perfect husband, the matching pair of children, an interior designer house, a mountain retreat, and all the money needed to keep her lifestyle spinning at a hundred miles an hour.
However, her girlfriends weren't as fortunate. Their marriages were disintegrating around them in the most sordid of circumstances.
Charlotte was secretly pleased that her life was the "no drama" version... until it wasn't.
Table 72 is a modern tale of competitive housewives, school gate drama, true friends, and naughty husbands.
---
Alison Moyet crooned softly in the background.
"I'm all cried out
You took a whole lot of loving for
A handful of nothing
All cried out
It's hard to give you something when
You're pushing and shoving me around"
She peaked through the keyhole and took a sharp intake of breath. It was him. She hadn't stopped thinking about him, and in a moment of clarity, her heart stopped as she opened the front door with tears running down her red, freshly lasered cheeks.
He stepped over the threshold, put his hand on the small of her back, pulled her suddenly toward his toned torso, and slammed the front door behind him. She accepted her fate without question, the inevitable pull of lust or love playing out in time to the pulsing music. Mid-morning light filtered through the back of the house, leaving no shadows, hiding nothing, illuminating her future. As much as she had tried to push him out, punish him for his wrongs. Charlotte closed her eyes, stood on her tiptoes, and turned her face up to meet him.
The future was irrelevant. The past forgotten. The present was the only concern. Charlotte buried her face in his neck and breathed in deeply. Here he was at last. The only man she ever really loved.
**Contains sexual content and adult humor.**
