Now, I'm done.

LYNETTE'S POV

I stood still, staring at the door Nicholas had just walked out through, tears streaming down my face.

I cried for a few minutes.

Then I suddenly wiped my face and walked out of the bedroom.

‘He doesn't get to decide that.’

“Nicholas?” I called out as I walked down the hallway.

I searched everywhere inside the house, but he was nowhere to be found.

I went to look outside, maybe he stepped out for some air, he wasn't there either.

Then it hit me.

“He left,” I let out a cold laugh, “he fucking left.”

I put my hand on my forehead, still laughing humorlessly.

“I came home early to have a special evening with my husband, and what did I get?” I said to no one.

“An open marriage, and now… I'm left all alone.”

I breathed out shakily, clenching my fists at my sides, then I walked back into the house.

My eyes landed on the small shopping bag I had come home with.

“Looks like I won't be needing this afterall, Gab.” I whispered.

The house felt so empty, and it reeked of Nicholas and Maya.

My chest tightened painfully. I closed my eyes, trying to control all the emotions.

I couldn’t stand being in this house for another second.

I grabbed my purse and stormed out of the house.

*******************

I was just driving with no particular destination in mind. I gripped the steering wheel tightly as I replayed everything that happened in my head.

After driving for a while, I sighted The Laurent from a distance, “Perfect. Just what I needed,” I said, pulling up in front of the building.

I handed the keys to the valet and walked in like I own the place.

I went straight to the bar and took a seat.

“A shot of whiskey,” I said immediately, “Neat. And keep it coming.”

“Rough day?” The bartender asked as he poured me a glass.

“You can say that.”

I took the drink and gulped it down at once.

It burnt down my throat, but it felt good.

I couldn’t get the image of Nicholas on top of Maya, out of my head.

‘Two years of staying faithful to a man who isn't, putting up with heartbreaks and betrayal, through lonely nights… all for an open marriage in the end.’

I didn't know how long I'd been sitting there, downing shots of whiskey with my thoughts.

My phone vibrated. Gabrielle.

I knew she'd call.

“Well?” She asked immediately I picked up, “Tell me it worked. Or… you haven't gotten to that part yet?” she teased.

I stared at the glass of drink in front of me. “I wouldn't know. He was busy banging someone else.”

The bartender gave me a look, I just rolled my eyes.

“What are you talking about Lyn?”

“I didn't get the chance to,” I said chuckling, “Nothing happened. I mean, there has to be dinner in order to have dessert, right?”

“Lynette, are you drunk right now?” She asked, her voice laced with confusion.

“Hmm, not really.” I said quietly, “Maybe just a little.”

“You’re not at home, are you?” She asked, her voice dropping low. “Where are you? I'm coming to meet you.”

I hesitated for a moment. “The Laurent.” I said.

Gabrielle arrived twenty minutes later. She looked worried, and out of breath like she ran down here.

“What the hell happened, Lyn?” She asked immediately, taking her seat on the stool next to me.

Gabrielle listened carefully as I narrated everything, frowning at every word.

“What a jerk,” she said without hesitation.

I smiled weakly, “That's who I married.”

I sighed, “I've tried, Gab. I've tried everything humanly possible to make things good with Nicholas. But it keeps getting worse.”

Gabrielle took my hand, “I know, Lyn.” She said, softly. “I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling right now.”

There was a soft laughter from two tables away.

I looked over.

A couple sat facing each other, holding hands over the table. The man was looking at the woman as if she's the only thing that matters in the world.

My throat tightened.

“I've never had that,” I whispered.

Gabrielle followed my gaze, and gave me a pity look.

I continued, “I've never gotten that look of admiration, not that kind of affection from Nicholas. It's all I've ever wanted.”

Tears welled up in my eyes.

She squeezed my hand, “I'm sorry you're hurting on a day like this.”

I wiped the tears before they fell, and took another sip from my glass.

“Yeah. But now I'm done,” I said, feeling decisive, “I'm done crying over a man who treats me like I'm less of a woman.”

I gulped down the rest of my drink.

“You know what?” I said, lifting my chin, “I don't care what he does anymore.”

“He wants an open marriage,” I continued, “Fine. So be it.”

Gabrielle looked at me, her face full of worry, “Lynette, you need to slow…”

“No, Gab,” I cut in, staring at her, “I want to start thinking for myself. I'm going to give myself the happiness I deserve.”

She just nodded, I'm sure she's surprised by my words. Even I am.

Maybe it's the alcohol, but somehow I feel so light saying it.

“And tonight, I just want to forget everything about Nicholas,” I said firmly.

“But I don’t even know how to go about that,” I said, sounding frustrated,” Am I supposed to just walk up to a man and ask him to sleep with me?”

The bartender paused and gave me a look again.

“Dude, mind your business!” I snapped.

Gabrielle placed her hand on mine, a gesture to calm me down.

“There are easy ways to go about that,” she said carefully, “Some services that are very private, you don't even have to use your name.”

“They're professionals, no strings attached,” she continued, “That's just what they do. And you never see them again.”

I blinked at her.

“A call boy?” I said, though the words sounded strange in my mouth.

She nodded.

“If you've made up your mind…” she said, searching my face for some doubt, “I can help you make the appointment, right now.”

‘No emotions involved, so there'll be no mess.’ It sounded perfect.

I hesitated for a split second before sliding my phone towards her.

“Do it,” I said.

Gabrielle’s fingers were moving quickly as she typed. She made a call, speaking softly. She quietly asked me for the name I'd like to give.

I mouthed it to her.

She gave the phone back when she was done.

“He'll come to you,” she said, “I gave him all he needs to recognize you. And he will be wearing a black shirt and black pants.”

My heart was beating fast now.

This is crazy. But I really don't care.

Gabrielle squeezed my hand again, “You don't have to go through with it, Lyn.”

“Yes,” I said softly, “I do.”

Gabrielle studied me for a moment, then stood up, “I have to go,” she said softly.

I nodded.

She pulled me into a hug, “Call me if you need me,” she whispered against my shoulder.

After she left, my heart started racing again.

I sipped my drink, trying to calm myself.

‘I shouldn’t be nervous. I'm not doing anything wrong.’

I stayed for a few minutes, then I thought it'd be better to wait in a room. I asked for the check and left the bar after.

I walked to the lobby slowly, trying not to look like I've been drinking.

When I got to the receptionist, I forced a smile and said, “I need a room please.”

“Just a minute please,” she replied softly.

I pretended to look around while I was waiting.

A few moments later, she handed me a key card. “Here you go ma'am. Room 117, third floor,” she said with a polite smile.

I smiled again and took it from her, “Thank you.”

As soon as I got into the elevator, I took out my phone and sent the room number to my appointment.

The elevator ride felt long. I finally got off and walked down the hallway looking for my room. My eyelids were getting heavy.

“Ah, here it is,” I said when I found it.

I tried using the key card, but it seemed not to be working. I pressed down the doorhandle out of annoyance, then it opened.

“Oh, it worked,” I said, smiling drunkenly.

The room was warm and softly lit, but it started to spin slightly so I kicked off my shoes and climbed on the bed.

I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, my mind was replaying the scene again.

I closed my eyes to shut it out then I heard someone open the door.

“You're late,” I said without even bothering to look.

There was no response, so I raised my head from the pillow and saw him standing at the entrance, his hand still on the door handle.

He turned to look back as if he was looking for something.

“I am?” he asked, more to himself than to me.

Then he walked in slowly, closing the door behind him.

He was still looking around the room, he seemed almost confused.

I blinked, then looked at him from his head down to his pants.

‘Yeah, it's him.’

He finally turned to look at me, “I think you're—”

“Early?” I finished it for him.

“You’re supposed to be a professional,” I added, sounding irritated.

He stared at me as if he was studying me.

I didn't have time for whatever stunt he's pulling. I might start overthinking and I couldn’t afford that at this point.

I got off the bed and stood in front of him in an instant. I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer to him.

“What are you—?”

I crashed my lips against his before he could finish.

He stiffened, clearly not expecting that.

After a moment, he slowly relaxed and started to kiss me back.