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.