Emily stares at Ryan, and he can see the color drain from her face. She opens her mouth to respond, but no words come out. He takes a step closer, his voice dangerously low. “Why is there a camera in our bedroom?” “Ryan, it’s nothing,” she says. She reaches for the vase, her hand brushing his arm, but he pulls back, setting the vase down behind him, marking it off-limits. “Not so fast,” he says. “Answer the question.” Emily bites her lip, eyes darting around the room. “It’s just… it’s a little kink thing, okay?” She gives a half-smile. “I thought maybe it’d be fun. Your birthday is coming up. I wanted to surprise you with a hot video.” He raises an eyebrow and then taps the side of his reading glasses. “I might be a bit shortsighted, Emily, but I’m not blind. Or stupid. How convenient that this little kink appeared the same day you saw Julie.” “The camera’s always been there. You just never noticed.” Ryan laughs. “Now I’m convinced you’re lying. I love those flowers. I’d know i
~~Julie~~After minutes of struggling, Luke finally gets the old record player going, and the first notes of a tune spill into the room. I sit up on the bed, propping my chin in my hand as I watch him. There’s something so endearing in the way he messes with the dials, muttering little curses under his breath until the music flows right.“I can’t believe this thing works,” he says.I laugh, letting the warmth of his presence seep into me. “Just like old wine. Gets better with age.”He turns to me, his eyes glinting with that mischievous look he’s so good at. “Then I must be in trouble. Because you’re like wine. If you get better each year, I might actually die of drunkenness.”“Is that so?” I tilt my head, trying to hide my smile.“Absolutely,” he says, offering his hand. “Come on. Dance with me.”Without a second thought, I spring off the bed and into his arms, feeling his arm wrap around me as we start to sway to the music. It’s not graceful; I’m sure I’m stepping all over his feet,
~~Luke~~The universe must truly hate me.I mean, it’s the only explanation why every time I try to do something right, something that makes me happy, it comes with problems like an estranged husband who doesn’t understand boundaries. A man like Ryan.He stands frozen in the doorway, his gaze fixed on Julie like she’s the only person in the room.Julie taps my arm, bringing me back to life. I pull myself together and step back to grab my pants, fumbling to get them on. Suddenly I feel like a teenager caught in his girlfriend’s bedroom by her father. Meanwhile, Julie has left the dresser. She's staring at Ryan with an icy glare. “Was I unclear,” she says, “when I told you you’re no longer welcome in this house?”I watch her walk toward him, the silk nightgown clinging to her in ways that leave nothing to the imagination. The bottom half of the gown is folded and still hanging askew around her waist. Reflexively, I reach forward, tugging the fabric down so she isn’t flashing Ryan an
Ryan hesitates, still standing in the doorway, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he glares at us.Julie’s patience has clearly reached its limits. “Leave, Ryan,” she says.He takes one last look at her, and then, after what feels like an eternity, he steps outside. I feel the tension release from my shoulders, a relief washing over me. But Julie isn’t done. She strides out after him. I follow her, partly to make sure Ryan doesn’t pull any funny business, but mostly because watching him get humiliated is proving to be its own special kind of therapy.Grant, the security guard, is waiting outside, his eyes darting from Julie to Ryan to me.“Mrs. O’Brien, I’m so sorry,” he says. “I tried to stop him from coming in, but the gate’s sensor recognized his car.”Julie gives him a short nod. “Don’t worry about it, Grant. I’ll fix that.”Without another word, she walks over to Ryan’s car, reaching up. She tugs at the sticker tag, struggling with it for a while before ripping it from the w
~~Julie~~My husband, Ryan, is standing on the karaoke stage, making a fool of himself. His shirt is unbuttoned halfway, his tie long abandoned, and his cheeks are flushed from too much whiskey.“And I………will always love you…..” he sings, closing his eyes.His voice is terrible.Standing next to him, practically glued to his side, is his secretary, Emily. Her left arm is around Ryan's waist, her fingers lightly grazing his back as she sings along. She’s younger than me, at least by half a decade, all wide eyes and perfect curves, dressed in a tight, low-cut dress that makes it impossible to ignore her presence. She leans into Ryan, whispering something in his ear, and he throws his head back, laughing. He looks at her like she’s the funniest person in the world.I’ve never seen him this happy.The last time I saw him this happy was on our wedding day, seven years ago. Back then, his eyes sparkled when he looked at me. Now, the light in them has grown dimmer; they're shining for someon
It’s true what they say about marriage: one partner is always happier than the other.In my case, I’m the unhappy one.I’m the one who can’t sleep. I’m the one who watches her husband’s sleeping face at night, looking for a sign—anything to prove what I’ve suspected all along, that he’s cheating on me. Just say a word, goddammit, a name, something, dear God. That’s all I want. Say Emily, Ryan. Say Emily.But Ryan never does. He’s too controlled for that.I’m the one checking his phone, seeing notifications from the same person, the same tiny image. But I can’t see the name of the sender, can’t recognize the face due to the image size—though it looks like Emily. I can’t even read the messages because Ryan has privatized his pop-up notifications.I’m in the kitchen right now, already on my fifth cup of coffee. And it’s just 6 AM.“Morning,” Ryan says, walking in, rubbing his temple. “Feels like someone took a chainsaw to my head. Last night was fun.”“I’m glad you had fun,” I reply, try
I look at Ryan, then Emily. “I don’t understand.”Ryan doesn’t even look at me, just grabs Emily’s hand and starts leading her away. “Stop being such a bad host, Julie. We’ve had a long day.”“No way, Ryan. She’s not staying in this house,” I say, my voice shaking with disbelief.He doesn’t respond. They’re already halfway up the stairs.“Do you hear me? She’s not staying here! Take her back to wherever you picked her up. I don’t want her in my house.”Ryan stops, turning just enough to glare at me. “Your house? I put a roof over your head. If I say she’s staying, she’s staying. If you don’t like it, go somewhere else. I don’t have the energy for your nonsense, Julie.”Oh, my god. My chest tightens. “How could you do this?” I say. “Don’t walk away from me, Ryan. Stand here and answer me.”Emily turns to look at me, smirking. “By the way, you’ll need to move your things into the guest room. I’m not sharing a bed with you and Ryan. It’s bad enough sharing him with you.”All the energy i
~~Luke~~Lord knows I’ve seen my fair share of beauties.But the lady beside me is something else. Not only is she the prettiest thing I’ve seen, but she’s married. Some men are just lucky.“So, I’m guessing your name isn’t Maggie?” I ask, trying to ease the tension.“No,” she replies flatly.I nod, waiting for her to give me something more. “So, what is it?”She gives me a slow, deliberate look. I can’t lie, wherever her eyes touch immediately burns.“Look,” I say, raising my hands in mock surrender. “I’m not hitting on you. Honestly, I’m taking a break from women. They’re problematic.”She lets out a laugh, a bitter one. “You’re the one who just hugged a stranger to dodge another woman you’ve clearly wronged, and you’re saying we’re the problematic ones? You men are all the same.”She downs her drink like it’s water and winces at the burn. That’s her second shot in less than five minutes. I’ve got to say, I’m impressed.“Let’s start over,” I suggest, offering her a fresh start. “I’m