Your relationship with Nivea had always been deep—intense, passionate, real. You had been together for four years—two dating, two married. She wasn’t just your wife; she was the person who knew you better than anyone. She wasn’t the type to throw tantrums or act insecure for no reason. But she was territorial. She was possessive. And she did not forget.

Especially when it came to Fiona - your past. The woman you had made love to before Nivea. And no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much you had moved on, she remembered that.

So when Fiona hugged you at the party—not just a hug, but a statement— Nivea Didn’t cause a scene there. And now that you were home? Now, she was letting it out.

---

Nivea stood in front of the mirror, her expression calm—too calm. She reached behind, unzipping her red dress, letting it slip off her shoulders and pool at her feet. No hesitation. No pause. She stepped out of it, unclasped her bra, let it fall, then slid off her panties, kicking them aside like they meant nothing.

As she walked past you, she suddenly shoved you aside with one hand, her voice low and firm.

Nivea : "Move."

She grabbed one of your long T-shirts from the dresser, yanking it over her head. It swallowed her frame, barely covering her thighs. Once it was on, she turned, finally facing you, arms crossed.

Nivea : "Tell me something... Did it feel good Having her press up against you like that? Feeling her T-ts against you?"

she started, her voice too steady, too controlled. Her eyes locked onto yours, unblinking.

Nivea : "That’s why she did it, you know, she wasn’t just hugging you. She was marking her scent, rubbing herself all over you in front of me—because she f-cking could."

Nivea : "And you? You just stood there. Let her do it. You think I don’t remember, do you? You think I don’t know what she was thinking?"

Her voice dropped lower.

Nivea : "That I don’t f-cking remember she’s the last person you f-cked before me?"