His Regret: The Woman He couldn't Break

“Congratulations, Hannah, happy wedding anniversary,” Lyra's excited voice split as she helped adjust the lingerie on her friend's body.

“Oh! My goodness, I can't imagine how tonight is going to be; you look heavily gorgeous underneath.”

“Thank you; we couldn't have had today without you. You uphold my home. Can't wait to see the hidden lucky guy that put the ring on your finger,” she giggled.

Lyra stared at the 10-carat diamond ring on her finger, and a sly smile curled up her lips.

“This is nothing compared to you being under a man; you have everything in your care—sex, love, and all. As for the mysterious man, you will know him soon; it's a surprise,” she whispered.

Hannah's smile dropped as she mentioned that she knew what she was going through in her marital home. Her marriage was nothing to write home about.

“Can we head to the dining room and see the surprise I made for you?” Lyra said, distracting her from the grief.

Lyra and Hannah had been best friends since diapers. Hannah was open and carefree; she had no secrets whatsoever. The day was her first wedding anniversary with her beloved husband.

Her husband's behaviour changed drastically weeks after their marriage. He stayed up late at night or sometimes didn't come home. When Hannah couldn't bear it any longer, she told her friend Lyra, and Lyra started teaching her what to do to make her husband come home. Sometimes, she would be the one calling her husband back home.

Since then, Lyra had been the third party in their home. She took it upon herself to organise and celebrate their first wedding anniversary. Regarding the cake and the dress, she suggested they celebrate at home, contrasting with her friend's planning.

“I can't wait to see it, and my room is… the only thing is I don't like red.” Hannah's smile was weary when she stared at her room, decorated with red like a shrine. She loved pink.

Lyra, seeing a disapproving look on her friend's face, couldn't help but persuade her.

“You have to like it tonight, since your husband likes it and it's going to make him crazy giving you orgasms; I think it is necessary,” she said, placing her hands on her shoulders and slowly pushing her towards the living room.

“Let’s toast,” Lyra said with a dazzling smile, lifting her glass high.

They all clinked their glasses.

Hannah took a sip.

The taste was fine. Sweet. But the moment it hit her throat, her head swam. Her vision blurred like someone had smeared oil over her eyes.

Her fingers fumbled for James’s sleeve.

“James... I feel strange,” she murmured, barely audible. “Can we go to the room?”

James didn’t answer. He and Lyra exchanged a silent look across the table.

Then Lyra’s lips curled.

Slowly, she slid off her jacket, revealing her cleavage.

James’s eyes widened, drinking her in. He looked at her like a starving man.

Without a word, his wine glass slipped from his hand. It landed on the table. He stepped toward her, drawn like a magnet.

Lyra leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “Not here. your bedroom.”

Then she turned to Hannah, who sat slumped in her chair, barely conscious.

“Let me help you, sweetheart,” Lyra said sweetly, her voice laced with a sneer.

She guided Hannah to her feet, dragging her up the stairs.

In the bedroom, Lyra let Hannah drop.

Thud. Hannah’s head struck the leg of the bedframe. She let out a faint whimper, but the drug had already drowned her body in numbness.

Lyra stood over her, lips curling in disgust.

“Just like that,” she muttered.

James appeared in the doorway, already stripping off his dress.

“I told you,” he sneered. “Can you imagine waking up to this every day? I watched you spike her drink, and she didn’t even blink. Pathetic.”

He strode into the room, hunger in his eyes, and grabbed Lyra with both hands, kissing her hard.

She pulled away, teasing. “Easy, man.”

“Don’t ask me to be gentle. You’ve been starving me. We haven’t had sex in days.”

“Just days,” she taunted with a smirk. “It’s not like it’s been a week.”

“Just days?” he growled. “That’s a damn lifetime. I feel like I’m going insane. Two days without you is f**king hell.”

“You should’ve asked Hannah for help,” she said mockingly, her voice like poison dipped in sugar.

James snorted, fury in his eyes. “Don’t ruin this by mentioning her. She makes me sick. If it weren’t for you, she’d have been gone by now. I hope she doesn’t wake up forever.”

James tore Lyra’s dress open with a hunger that bordered on madness; her top fell to the floor. Her lace underwear followed, tossed carelessly atop the dresser. He shoved her onto the bed.

In his rush, he slammed his head against the headboard, grunted, but didn’t pause.

“You’ve waited long enough,” Lyra purred, her eyes dark with triumph. She reached for him, nails grazing his chest.

“I think it’s time you got exactly what you deserve.”

“You drive me insane,” he growled, crushing his mouth against hers, dragging her body beneath his like a man possessed.

“Two days without you... I’m losing my f**king mind.”

She arched into him, breath catching as his hand slid beneath her panties. “I told you to be patient.”

“I’ve been patient long enough,” he snapped, his mouth trailing hot down her neck.

“You think I enjoy touching her,” he hissed, “when I could have you?”

Lyra gave a dark, knowing laugh, fingers threading through his hair. “Then why stay with her, James? You could’ve left Hannah months ago.”

He paused, just long enough for his eyes to drift toward the motionless form crumpled on the floor.

“She might die,” he said coolly. “And I don’t care enough to stop it. You did enough to keep her around. She’s too pathetic to even fight back.”

He sneered.

“She still thinks playing dress-up and cleaning the house make up for being the most boring woman I’ve ever met.”

Lyra’s smile chilled to ice. “She’s a fool. Always begging for my advice. She never questions why I’m always the one pushing you back into her arms.”

“Exactly,” he muttered, sliding her bra strap down, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. “Dumb. Desperate. You’re the one with teeth. You take what you want.”

Lyra tangled her legs around him, her voice dripping with poison.

“I’m not scared to f**k you in her bed.”

He let out a low growl, eyes flashing.

“She doesn’t even make me hard anymore,” he said, a cruel delight twisting his voice.

“Every time I touch her, I imagine touching you so that I won't poke,”

Lyra moaned, pulling him down again, sealing her mouth over his in a kiss as toxic as the betrayal spreading like wildfire through that room.

Lyra laughed darkly. “I guess it’s good she’s finally being useful, keeping the floor warm while we do what we’ve been craving.”

They kissed again, the bed creaking under them as they devoured each other, all while Hannah lay helplessly on the floor.

A dull pounding echoed in Hannah’s head, like waves crashing against the shore of her consciousness. Her limbs felt heavy, like sandbags weighed them down. Her mouth was dry. Her ears rang.

Then she heard voices. Muffled at first.

Moaning.

She blinked slowly. She thought she was dreaming; all they said never escaped her ears.

The ceiling spun above her, but the sounds sharpened: breathless gasps, whispers, the sickening slap of skin on skin. Her eyes darted toward the bed.

She froze.

Her husband and her best friend, entwined and naked on her matrimonial bed.

“You are so sweet, James. This is the best you deserve, not a boring thing like Hannah,” Lyra said.

Hannah’s blood turned to ice.

Her vision cleared, but her body wouldn’t move. So she watched, chest tight with nausea, heartbreak built in her throat like bile.

James laughed. “Yeah, this is what I deserve, not that pathetic Hannah. Always trying to please me, begging for affection like a lost puppy. I don’t even touch her unless you ask me to. She doesn’t know the first thing about being a real woman.”

Lyra giggled, the sound sharp and cruel. “She probably thought tonight would be some magical, romantic fantasy. Poor thing. Lying there in my used lingerie, thinking she matters.”

Something inside Hannah cracked. The pain was unbearable. This was more than betrayal. This was planned.

She forced her fingers to twitch. Her legs shift.

The rug beneath her rustled, and yet, she couldn't stand up. What have they done to her?

“Let's go one more time. Come on top and do the job. I want you to rid me, James said, flipping Lyra's naked body on top of his.

Lyra’s body stiffened, her eyes locked with Hannah’s.

“James…” she whispered, trembling.

James looked down and saw Hannah’s eyes wide open, staring straight at them.

He didn’t flinch; he acted as if he saw nothing. He continued playing with Lyra's body.

He noticed stiffness in Lyra, and he spoke, So? Are you afraid of her now?” He asked, clearly unfazed by her look.

“Don't worry, I have prepared everything; she will be gone tonight. Come on, girl, ride me.” He gave her confidence to continue, but Lyra was overwhelmed not with guilt but with fear. She knew Hannah was stronger than her; if she could regain her strength, she might bathe in her own blood.