All Chapters of My Husband Wants An Open Marriage: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

~~Ryan O’Brien~~It's been a week since the lump was surgically removed from Ryan’s chest, and he’s at the hospital, waiting for Elaine Jenkins, Julie's mother.The hospital parking lot feels like purgatory—just endless rows of cars and the low hum of fluorescent lights that turn every reflective surface into a pale green. Ryan is sitting in the back seat of his car, fidgeting with the leather strap of his watch. He doesn’t know why he called Elaine of all people. Maybe because her number is there, wedged between his lawyer and his financial advisor, or maybe because she looks a lot like Julie.The thought of Julie sends a pang through him. She hasn’t been taking his calls. Yeah, he did say he’d let her have the divorce, and he might have threatened her while doing it. But she should know he doesn’t mean any of that. Even if she’s leaving him, they could be friends, right? Friends are allowed to call each other when they’re falling apart.He catches sight of Elaine’s car—a white conv

~~Julie~~It’s my first day at work, and I’m more nervous than I care to admit. The onboarding was three days ago, where I met my team and other important persons. But no amount of onboarding or pre-meetings could have prepared me for the reality of stepping into the unknown. Everything is different. Everything is fresh. And mostly not in a bad way.I walk into the meeting room, and a half-dozen faces turn toward me, all of them smiling. Brightly. Too brightly.“Good morning, Ms. Jenkins!” says a brunette near the head of the table. “We’re so excited to have you on board!”I nod, mustering my best confident boss smile. “Thank you. Let’s get started, shall we?”They exchange eager glances, and the meeting begins. A sleek presentation flashes on the massive screen at the far end of the room. Charts, projections, strategies—it’s polished, professional, everything I expected. I scribble notes, interject where needed, and offer insights.They’re good. No, they’re great. Efficient, enthusia

I pause for a second, my brain refusing to process what I’m seeing.Two lines. Bold as hell, too. Not even faint, not even giving me room for doubt.I’m pregnant.Oh, my god.The stick feels heavier than it should, like it’s made of lead instead of plastic. I sink down onto the closed toilet seat, legs too weak to keep holding me up. My hand instinctively moves to my stomach, pressing against the fabric of my dress. I don’t know what I’m hoping to find, maybe a baby kick or something ridiculous like that.Pregnant.How? The question turns through my mind, absurd and almost laughable. I mean, I know how, biologically speaking, but after all these years, after every single failure, I’d accepted—no, resigned myself to the idea—that it wasn’t going to happen for me.“Seven years,” I whisper to no one, the words tasting bitter. Seven years of treatments, tears, hormone shots, and endless invasive tests that always ended the same: Sorry, Mrs. O’Brien. It’s not you. We can’t explain it.Oh,

From the moment Luke came in, I knew something was wrong. He had that look—the one that says, ‘I’ve been to hell and back, and I’m not sure if I’m still alive.’ I thought it might be work. A failed deal, some corporate drama, anything but this.“What kind of accident, Luke?” I say. I feel like I know the answer already, but I’m praying to whatever high power’s out there that it’s not what I think it is.He closes his eyes for a moment. When he finally speaks, his words are almost inaudible.“Sara’s in the hospital.”Sara. His ex-wife. “What?” I say, my hands clutching the arms of the chair. “Oh my God, Luke. Is she—? What happened? Is she okay?”The real question I want to ask is, ‘What have you done, Luke?’ But I can’t find the courage to ask. And also, maybe I’m giving him the benefit of doubt. It could be something else. Maybe something happened to her and Luke’s name was sitting at the top of her contact list. Maybe she called him. Maybe, maybe, and maybe. It’s better than actual

I stand there, my body rigid, staring at Sara. There was a time when looking at her made my world stop. I used to lose myself in her gaze, convinced she was my forever. Now? All I see is a desperate girl crying for help.The longer I remain silent, the more uncomfortable Sara gets. I can see her shifting on the bed, her eyes darting to the door, then back to me. Maybe she expected me to shout, lose control, play the part of the ex-husband who still cares enough to fight for her. But that man died the day she betrayed me.Finally, I speak. "I’ll tell you what’s going to happen,” I say. “I’ll pay your hospital bills because that’s who I am. I’m generous to the less privileged. After that, I never want to see your face again."Her eyes widen. For a second, genuine surprise flashes across her face. Then, her lips twist into a smirk, but I can tell she’s rattled."Did you forget the part where I said you’re mine now?" she says."I did. And I’m turning down your request."I can see the whee