Dear Husband, Let's Have An Open Marriage

~Lora~If I hadn’t turned on the bedroom light tonight, I wouldn’t have discovered my husband’s betrayal… or lost everything.Why did it have to be tonight?On our matrimonial bed.I reached for him, unsure of what I truly wanted to do, but my body moved before my mind could catch up."Get off me, you slow wench!" Michael exclaimed as he yanked my arms away from him.My ears rang. That word…‘wench’...felt unreal.I tried to regain my composure and pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. "What do you mean by 'slow'? And what’s with the 'wench'? Where is all this coming from, Michael?" I asked as I pursued him once more, gripping his collar tightly."Didn't you hear him? Back off! Ugh, you're going to make me puke..." Ivy, his secretary, intervened.Thank God I turned on the light; I was able to catch him red-handed. If not, he might claim I had seen things."Where did I go wrong, huh?" I asked, tears streaming down my face. I glanced at Ivy again, her skin didn’t glow like min

~Lora~I made my way to the VVIP lounge, trying to clear my thoughts of everything, especially the feeling that someone was watching me.I took another shot of the whiskey, its warmth against my throat distracted me.Now I regret handing my phone to James, because he was nowhere on sight. And I wanted to get out of here."You should slow down. Don't you think so? That's your fifth shot," Nicholas said as he took the drink from me."How'd you know it's not my first? I see someone's keeping a close eye on me. You know what? I think you're my biggest fan," I staggered, smirking."You wish, princess. I'd rather not sew a single dress for a day than stare at you," he said, smiling mischievously."Oh please, like I didn't catch you drooling just now," I chuckled.Nicholas Wayne.We were rivals in the fashion world, but things were different outside of it. He always brought out my competitive side and teased me for being too serious."What are you doing here? Thought you said you couldn't m

~Lora~"Why do you still have this?" I jabbed his chest with my index finger.He tensed, his jaw tightening. "Why? Does it bother you that I didn't erase it?""I told you to get rid of the tattoo, Alex. What do you want people to think when you finally meet someone?"“Sssh,” he murmured, leaning in. “I’m never meeting anyone else. It’s you, Lora. In this life, the next, and the next after that. Anyone who sees it will know I’m insane about you.”The word “Lora” in stupid ancient hieroglyphics, sat proudly over his heart.He’d gotten it on his twentieth birthday. I’d called it a reckless, temporary obsession.Now he’s twenty-five… And he still hasn’t removed it.“Or are you just hopelessly addicted to me?”I teased.He snorted and stepped closer until his breath warmed my cheek. “You know damn well it's much more than that, Pookie. But if that’s how you interpret my love…fine. I’ll wear it.”I exhaled, trying to wiggle out of his grip.Talking sense into him was like lecturing a brick

~Lora~“Mic… Michael… please,” I gasped, my voice shaking. “It hurts. Let me go.”I struggled inside his arms, my body twisting, fighting, begging for space. But he didn’t move, not even an inch.Instead, he slid his hands up, slowly and deliberately until his fingers wrapped tightly around my neck.My eyes widened..And worse, his eyes were red now.It was empty, wild, like he wasn’t fully there anymore.“Michael… I can’t…” I tried to breathe, tried to speak. “I can’t… breathe. Le…” The words died in my throat.My vision blurred, and I felt my strength drained fast, like water slipping through my fingers.“Why don’t you ever fucking listen to me?” he snarled, squeezing harder. “You enjoy pissing me off, huh?”“No…” I choked, each breath came out broken, shallow and useless. My legs felt weak, I was trapped.Desperate, I stretched one arm out, fingers shaking, reaching for anything…anything…that could save me. Something to get him off me before it was too late.At the kitchen table

~Lora~I glanced up at the wall clock for what felt like the hundredth time.Twenty whole minutes had passed, still no sign of George, no call back from Adrian.Not even Alex… maybe the call actually went through before I cut it off. Just maybe he saw it and he’s trying to reach me back right now.Or maybe not.A quiet sniff escaped me as I let my head fall back against the wall. The cold surface pressed into my skull, but it did nothing to calm the chaos in my chest. If there is anything worse than this feeling, I might actually welcome it.Because tell me why it suddenly felt so hard to breathe.My chest rose and fell too quickly, each breath coming out shaky, uneven. And Clara’s voice… God, her voice just keeps playing in my head like a broken recording, over and over.Even after all these years of convincing myself I was strong. That I was over it and didn’t need therapy. That whatever happened back then had no power over me anymore.But the mind has a cruel way of dragging yo