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Craved By My Husband's Best Friend
Craved By My Husband's Best Friend
Autor: Marugy

1. The Confession

Autor: Marugy
last update Fecha de publicación: 2026-03-30 05:31:44

Marissa POV

I stood in the center of our pristine living room, the space I had spent the last two years turning into a sanctuary.

Now, the silence felt like a predator. I was utterly bamboozled no, dumbfounded didn't even touch the edges of it. It felt as if the floor had suddenly liquefied, leaving me suspended in mid air with nowhere to land.

"What did you just say, Ethan?" I asked. My voice came out thin and brittle, like old parchment. My ears were literally reverberating with the echo of his words, a sickening rhythm that made my vision blur.

Ethan wouldn’t meet my eyes. He was staring at his reflection in the floor to ceiling windows, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his tailored suit. "I know it’s not a proud thing to say, Marissa... but you have to know this. I cheated on you."

"Come again?" I whispered. My heart was hammering against my ribs so hard I thought they might crack. "I need you to say those words again, Ethan. I need to be absolutely sure I’m not having a stroke."

"I cheated, Marissa!" he snapped, his guilt finally curdling into a defensive, ugly rage. "I am sorry. I know I’ve fucked up badly this time. I know I did! I don’t even know what was wrong with me at the time, okay? It was just... it happened. And I sincerely feel guilty, which is why I am telling you now!"

"You feel guilty now?" I let out a sharp, jagged laugh that sounded like breaking glass. "What, Ethan? I can’t believe you actually did this to me! What could that bitch possibly have that I don’t, huh? Tell me! Look at me and tell me!"

I stepped into his personal space, forcing him to look at the wreckage of my face.

"What qualities does she possess that I lack? Is it beauty? Charm? Is she better at pretending to love you?" I slammed my fists into his chest, each blow a release of the three years of devotion I had wasted on him.

"Ethan, I gave you everything! I even quit my job for you! I walked away from my career, my promotions, my entire identity, all just to become a stay-at-home wife because you said you wanted a home to come back to! You beast!"

"I am sorry!" he kept groaning, absorbing the hits without moving. "I am so sorry, Marissa. Please, just listen to me."

"Forgive? Did you just dare mention the word forgive?" I backed away, my chest heaving as I gasped for air. "Look at yourself. Are you even worthy of being in the same room as me right now? You’re a stranger to me."

"I am sorry, Marissa. Just please, don’t leave me, okay? I promise I will never do it again," he wailed, his voice cracking as he moved to engulf me in his arms. He tried to pull me into the warmth of a hug that I now found utterly repulsive.

I shoved him back with every ounce of strength I had left. "Of course you wouldn’t do it again, Ethan! You know why? Because I am filing for a divorce! I want the papers on your desk by Monday morning."

The color drained from his face, leaving him looking sickly and grey. "No, Marissa, you can’t do this to me! I am not going to agree to that! You know what? If it makes you feel better, go cheat on me back! Go find some guy tonight, sleep with him, get it out of your system, and then we can call it even and continue this relationship, okay? I am truly sorry and I regret it!"

I stared at him, my stomach turning with pure disgust. My hand flew out before I could even process the thought, slapping him right across the face. The crack echoed through the empty house like a gunshot.

"You bastard! Is that what you think of me? You think my dignity is a currency you can trade? You think a revenge fling solves the fact that you burned our vows to the ground?"

"Fine," I hissed, my voice trembling with a terrifying blend of rage and sorrow. "Since you want to be cheated on so badly, maybe I will do just that. But it won't be to save us."

I grabbed my phone, my fingers shaking so violently I almost dropped it, and began to dial Hailey’s number.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice trembling with visible terror.

"I am calling Hailey. I need to get out of this house. I need to be alone to clear my head before I do something we both regret! I want you out of my sight, Ethan! Get out! I want you out of my sight for good!"

"You don’t need to go, Marissa," he said quickly, backing toward the hallway. "I will go. I will stay at a hotel. I’ll give you all the time you need to think. Just... please don't do anything rash."

He was halfway out the door when a cold, hard thought struck me. "Ethan!" I called out.

He stopped, a pathetic spark of hope flickering in his eyes. "Yeah?"

"Tell me honestly," I said, my voice eerily calm now. "Why did you tell me now? And how many months have you been cheating with your little whore?"

He flinched as if I’d slapped him again. "Are you sure you want to hear that? It literally does us no good."

"What if I tell you that your answer decides whether I even consider not taking you for every penny you're worth in court?"

He took a deep breath, looking smaller than I’d ever seen him. "Four months. It’s been four months."

The number felt like a physical weight on my chest. Four months of "late meetings." Four months of "working weekends."

"I told you because..." he hesitated, "because she’s threatening to sue me for $300 million if I don’t tell you myself. She wants to ruin the company, Marissa. She says she'll go to the press. That huge sum of money is enough to drown the firm in debt. I wanted to tell you myself before it hit the news."

The truth felt like a final, cold blade to the heart. He wasn't confessing because he loved me. He was confessing because he was being extorted. He was protecting his bank account, not our marriage.

"Is that all? Now get out!" I yelled, the sound tearing from my throat. "GET OUT!"

The moment the door clicked shut and I heard his car pull out of the driveway, the adrenaline vanished. I collapsed against the door, sliding down until I was a ball on the floor. I cried hot, thick tears that slammed down my cheeks, soaking into my silk blouse.

I reached for my phone, scrolling until I found my "Lana Del Rey" playlist. As the dark, cinematic symphony of Born to Die began to fill the room, I let the music drown out the sound of my own heart breaking.

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