Part 1The Scent of Betrayal

Lately, my husband has been carrying a foul odor.

It's hard to describe. It's like a backed-up septic tank mixed with the smell of rotting fish.

Whenever he gets close, the stench intensifies, making me sick to my stomach.

"Elaine, can we... tonight?"

He hugged me from behind again, his warm breath on my neck. But the first thing to hit me was that familiar, putrid smell.

My stomach churned. I shoved him away.

"Marcus, you smell disgusting!"

The desire on his face vanished, replaced by a flash of annoyance.

"Elaine, are you sick? How many specialists have we seen? They all said I'm fine! What the hell is your problem?"

I rolled my eyes.

He was right. His medical reports were perfect. Not even the slightest sign of inflammation.

But I was born with a hyper-sensitive nose, and I couldn't stand this smell.

It was exactly like a sewer.