I watched with curious eyes as he spoke animately to the women next His wife. I assume. She's pretty, actually, correction; She was fucking gorgeous. However, nothing in comparison to my young, dirty, sinful self. I watched as he put his arm around her. She laughed, her eyes quickly surveying the crowd, hoping no one could hear their conversation. I watched as the beautiful Italian man whispered something in her ear, something sexual probably. A green fire grew inside me as I watched both of them, happy and in love. I gripped the flute of champagne in my manicured hands tightly. Almost wishing I could chuck it at her perfect face. Almost.
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