1. The third son

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With a deep sigh of despair she put the cup down on the table in front of her.

"Are you serious? Do you really have to go there?" she said with almost a whimper, staring emotionless down into the cup.  Cassie was just so fed up with all of this that she could scream.

She reluctantly raised her gaze and looked at her husband, the corner of her mouth twitching in a disapproving way as she gave him a once over.

"It's the third time this month!" she said to make her point clear to him.

But obviously she had spoken to deaf ears as he continued to scroll on his work phone. Hadn't he heard a thing she said?

"Bradley, I am talking to you!" she said and grabbed his arm.  

He looked up at her.

"What, Cassandra?" he replied and raised his brows a little irritated.

She wrinkled her forehead and gave him an accusing glance. She hated when he said Cassandra to her, even though it was her given name.

"I said: do you really have to go on another trip? This is the third this month!"

Brad lowered the phone and put it down on the table. Damn it. It always came down to this. Couldn't she understand that he did this for both of them, to make a living?

The other thing though, that he every now and then got laid during his trips, she didn't need to know.

What she doesn't know won't hurt her, right?

"It's my job, Cassie. You know that. I can't help that I sometimes have to leave for a few days."

Cassie almost choked.

"A FEW DAYS?" she yelled at him, "Make that a few weeks and it will be more accurate. . ."

Brad sighed. He really had no time to debate this with her; his flight would take off in about two hours. What he needed right now was to get hold of a cab.

"Cassandra," he said sternly.

"Don't call me that!" she exclaimed and threw her arm out, accidently knocking her cup over and flooding the table with coffee, "Aw DAMN!"

Cassie jump up and fetched a cloth from the sink, then she began to clean up the mess that was all over the table.

Brad shook his head and headed down the hall to their bedroom.

Cassie looked up from her cleaning.

"BRAD!" she yelled to his back. Damn she felt so pathetic. In anger she threw the wet cloth in the sink, making the coffee she had cleaned up, to splash up at the cupboards.

Why was it always like this? It was like he did not care at all. She could up and leave and he wouldn't know a thing about it. He wouldn't have a clue. She could as well give it up.

"Okay Brad, for how long exactly this time?" she said and sat down on a chair, her posture looking totally defeated.

 "A week and a half, " she could hear him respond from the bedroom.

Ha! Just as she thought.  A few days. What a joke.

"Great, I just want to know when to send my lover home."  she added, curious to know if he even listened to her. "You know, your friend Dave. Tall, dark and handsome!"

"Okay." Brad responded as she had predicted. Cassie sighed.

It was like talking to a wall.

A minute later he swept through the kitchen with suitcase in hand, heading for the front door.

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