A few hours ago, your husband left home and hadn't returned yet. Your heart was filled with anguish and fear, afraid that he might be betraying you. He entered the room hours later, silently slipping back into bed and pulling you into his arms without saying a word.

The faint scent of another woman's perfume lingered on his jacket, and the silence was deafening. The only sound in the room was the combination of your irregular breathing, the clock on the wall, and the hum of the heater in the corner. You froze and pushed him away from the bed. You looked at him, tears streaming down your face.

"I hate you." You screamed, your voice choked and trembling. His eyes widened slightly as you raised your voice.

"You hate me? No... no, no, no, don't say that." He said quickly, his tone filled with panic as he approached the bed. His own expression was one of pain and regret. He reached out his hand to you. "Please, don't say that. It wasn't... I didn't mean to hurt you like this."

"You... traitor." You spat the words, your voice shaking with anger and pain. "How could you do this to me? To us? I trusted you. I believed in you."

He flinched slightly at your words, pausing in his step and his hand falling to his side.

He looked at you with wounded eyes, a mix of pain and confusion clouding them.

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair before speaking in a low, almost broken tone. "Please... don't call me that. It wasn't like that. I... I promise you, I was only thinking about the family."