What Use Is a Belated Love?

I marry Mason Longbright, my savior, at 24.

For five years, Mason's erectile dysfunction and bipolar disorder keep us from ever sleeping together.

He can't satisfy me when I want him, so he uses toys on me instead. But during his manic episodes, his touch turns into torment, leaving me bruised and broken.

On my birthday night, I catch Mason in bed with another woman.

Skin against skin, Mason drives into Amy Becker with a rough, ravenous urgency, his desire consuming her like a starving beast.

Our friends and family are shocked, but no one is more devastated than I am. And when Mason keeps choosing Amy over me at home, I finally decide to let him go.

I always thought his condition kept him from loving me, but it turns out he simply can't get it up with me at all.

I book a plane ticket and instruct my lawyer to deliver the divorce papers. I am determined to leave him.

To my surprise, Mason comes looking for me and falls to his knees, begging for forgiveness.

But this time, I choose to treat myself better.

My husband, Mason Longbright, tried comforting me after he saw me crying.

"Don't cry anymore, Michelle. Just pretend like tonight never happened, and I will still treat you and spoil you the same as before."

One hour ago, I had just witnessed him pinning his psychiatrist underneath his body while he plunged his lower body into her, greedily claiming her body like he was a starving wild beast.

Meanwhile, whenever we were in bed together, he could never get it up with me because his lower half just wouldn't have any reaction toward me at all.

I wanted to know why he could get it up with other women but not with me. Was it really my problem after all?

I walked toward him and leaned my head against his chest, starting to feel him up.

"Mason, since you don't have that issue anymore, can you please take me now?"

Mason's eyes glimmered with a conflicted expression. Then, he pushed me away hesitantly.

I refused to give up and reached down to cup his bulge, trying to get him to react to my ministrations.

Mason frowned, and he sounded as though he was trying his best to hold back.

"Stop touching me, Michelle Armstrong," he said.

I refused to listen and leaned close, wanting to kiss him with my red lips.

However, Mason ducked and quickly grabbed me by my wrists. The look in his eyes suddenly became sharp as he said, "I can't get it up. Stop messing around."

His words made me feel very hurt. However, I still wasn't ready to give in. I just pushed him down and straddled him as I began to complain.

"No, I want you. You've already recovered. Why won't you want me?"

Instead, Mason shoved me off with all his strength, his voice suddenly a few times louder as he shouted at me, "I told