~~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
~~Julie~~Ugh, my head feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. I crack my eyes open and glance around. I’m in my living room, but I can’t for the life of me remember how I got home last night.Shit, Ryan’s car.I scramble to the window, heart racing, and peek outside. There it is, still parked in the driveway. Thank God. Ryan would have been so pissed if I’d wrecked it.I need a shower. And definitely a toothbrush. My mouth tastes like something died in it.I drag myself upstairs, but as soon as I push open the master bedroom door, I freeze. Emily is on top of Ryan, both of them completely naked, moving in sync. Their panting fills the room.I scream.Emily yelps and tumbles off him, scrambling to cover herself.“Jesus Christ, Julie,” Ryan mutters, sitting up and glaring at me. “Ever heard of knocking?”I want to tell him I’ve never had to knock in my own house, let alone my own bedroom, but what’s the point? “I just came to grab my things.”“It’s already done,” Emily snaps. “Everyth
Ryan has been quiet since I dropped the news.“Say something,” I say, my voice breaking slightly. But Ryan just stares at me, his jaw clenched, his face rigid. I know that look too well. It's his bomb-ticking look, the one he wears when he's moments away from an explosion. “Julie,” Emily says. She glances at Ryan before going on, “I’m sure whoever you’ve chosen will be wonderful. After all, you found Ryan and kept him, so you must know how to make good choices in life.”Her smile makes my fingers itch. I want to grab something—anything—and hurl it at her. My nails dig into my palms. Stay calm, I remind myself. If I react, Ryan will just assume I’ve lost my mind, and then where will I be? How would I fight for my marriage from an asylum?“No,” Ryan says, catching me off guard.“What?”“The answer is no, Julie,” he says, cold and final.I stare at him, not believing he just said that. “It wasn’t a request, Ryan. I was letting you know I’m exploring new options. So when you see me with
“Ryan,” I say again, now fully facing him, “what are you doing in my room?”He shrugs. “The door was unlocked.”“And?”“I wanted to be with my wife.” He’s touching my hair now, fingers combing through the mass, causing the hair to fall around my face. His touch is familiar, too familiar. I try to shake off the feeling of déjà vu, but it won't stop. “I don’t want us to fight anymore, Jules. All this is just a little misunderstanding.”I stare at him, my mind still trying to catch up with the fact that he’s here, in my bed, in the middle of the night. “It’s midnight, Ryan. What are you saying exactly? Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?”Ryan doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he leans in and presses his lips to mine, soft at first. For a brief second, I lose myself in it—the taste of him, the way his hands cradle my face. But then, reality crashes back in.“Ryan,” I murmur, pulling away. “Stop. This isn’t—”“Shh,” he whispers against my lips. “This is what you want, right? Isn’t th
“Hi,” I say, but then it hits me—it’s the middle of the night, and I shouldn’t be calling anyone this late, especially not someone I barely know. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’ll hang up the phone now.” Before I can move my thumb to end the call, Luke’s voice comes through the line. “Don’t hang up.”The way he says it—easy, like we talk all the time—makes me pause. I stare at the ceiling, biting my lip. There's something comforting about his voice, like I’m not alone in this stupid mess I’ve found myself in.“Talk to me,” Luke says.“I dialed your number by mistake,” I lie, cringing at how lame it sounds. “Alright. I had a bad dream, so I picked up my phone and dialed the first number I saw.”Luke laughs. “A bad dream, huh? Were there monsters?”I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. “Something like that.”There’s a brief pause, and I hear him moving on the other end, like he’s shifting around. “Well, since I’m awake, let me tell you a story to cheer you up. T