An Open Marriage

Sienna

“I find you boring, Sienna.”

Those words echoed in my ears, bouncing around in my skull, drowning out everything else.

“I don’t care anymore,” he continued, as if we were talking about the weather, as if my heart wasn’t in pieces. “I do not feel the same way I used to feel for you anymore.”

I could feel the tears welling up again.

Each word Noah spoke sank deeper into me like a blade, cutting away at everything I had once believed about us.

The man I had loved so deeply, the man I had sacrificed everything for, was standing before me with a coldness I couldn't comprehend.

"Why are you treating me like this, Noah?" My voice trembled as I spoke, every word scraping past the lump in my throat. "Why do you keep cheating on me? After everything we've been through together?”

He didn't respond right away. His eyes were distant, uninterested, like I was nothing more than an inconvenience.

When he did speak, it was with such dismissiveness that I felt my stomach turn.

"I told you before, Sienna," he said, as though explaining something trivial. "I'm tired of being married to you."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I staggered back a step, my breath coming in shallow gasps. "Tired of me?" I echoed, as if hearing the words out loud might somehow make them less real. "Tired of me?"

I had been married to this man for years. I had sacrificed everything. My family. My future. My education. All for him. All because he felt threatened by the idea of me being around other men, of me taking reading classes with people he didn’t know. I’d given up everything just to make him feel secure, just to keep our relationship intact.

And this was how he repaid me.

Tears welled in my eyes, unchecked, pouring down my face. I couldn’t stop them. It was as if every single emotion I had been suppressing for years was finally pouring out all at once, flooding me, suffocating me.

I had been so naive, so foolish to believe that he loved me. To believe that what we had was real.

But here he was, telling me that he was tired of me. Tired of seeing my face.

I felt my heart crack, a sound I was certain only I could hear. A deafening, terrible cracking sound. The kind of crack that would never heal.

"Have I done something wrong?" I asked, barely able to choke out the words. "Have I done something to make you hate me?"

Noah’s gaze never wavered, cold and empty. “No, you haven’t done anything. I don’t hate you. I just don’t want to be with you anymore.”

His words hung in the air, insufferable, unyielding. “I’m just tired of seeing your face,” he added casually, almost as if it were the most natural thing to say.

I couldn't process it. His voice was so empty, so devoid of any remorse or emotion.

It was like I was hearing the words of a stranger, someone who didn't know me, someone who didn’t care. And maybe that was exactly what he was now.

Everyone had warned me about him.

They said he wasn’t trustworthy, that he didn’t deserve me. I had dismissed them all.

I had thought they were jealous, or overprotective, or simply misunderstanding the man I loved.

I had convinced myself that Noah was different, that he loved me. But I had been blind. I had been foolish.

I had believed in something that wasn’t real.

And now, standing in front of me, was the truth. The man I had sacrificed everything for, the man I had given up my family and future for, was standing before me and telling me that he was tired of me. That he was done.

It was as if the ground beneath me had crumbled away. I was falling, falling into a pit of nothingness, and there was no one to catch me.

“Why?” I whispered, barely able to keep my voice steady. “Why did you let me believe it was real? Why did you let me believe that we were happy?”

Noah’s eyes flickered with something like annoyance, as if my pain was more of an inconvenience to him than anything else. “You should have known better, Sienna,” he said, his tone growing sharper. “You should have seen it coming.”

I staggered back again, shaking my head. “I did see it coming. But I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to see you for who you really are.”

He said nothing, and I realized then that there was no point in asking for answers. He was already gone, even if his body was still here. He had checked out long ago, emotionally, and I had been too blind to see it.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand, the tears still falling. My hands were trembling, my heart racing with confusion and sorrow.

“Then... then let's get this farce of a marriage dissolved,” I suggested, my voice barely above a whisper. The silence that followed felt suffocating. “Since you're tired, let's just get divorced.”

Noah looked at me, his expression hardening into something unreadable. “You’re not getting it, Sienna,” he said, his voice more forceful now. “I’m not saying we’re done. I’m saying... I don’t want to be tied down to you anymore, but I’m not ready to let you go completely either.”

My heart skipped a beat, the confusion settling in like a thick fog. “What are you talking about?” I asked, desperate for clarity.

“I'm saying instead of nagging and complaining about me cheating and betraying you…” He smirked, his cold, unfeeling gaze meeting mine. “Lets make this an open marriage.”

The words hit me like a thunderclap, deafening in their absurdity. I could feel the color draining from my face, my mind scrambling to process what he had just said. “An... open marriage?” I repeated, as though saying it aloud would somehow make it less real.

He nodded, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah. You do whatever you want, I do whatever I want. No strings. No expectations. We’re still married, but you’re free to sleep with whoever you want. You can even bring someone else home if you want. I don’t care anymore.”

I stood there, frozen, unable to speak. My mind was racing, my heart pounding against my chest, my hands shaking so violently that I thought I might collapse.

How had everything gone so wrong? How had the man I had trusted, the man I had given everything for, come to this? How could he be so callous, so indifferent, as to suggest something so degrading?

I didn’t even know what to say. The words felt like they were stuck in my throat, the shock of it all paralyzing me.

“Tell me you’re not serious,” I finally managed, my voice hoarse. “Tell me you’re joking. Tell me you’re not asking me to live in an open marriage.”

But Noah just looked at me, his gaze unwavering, his expression unchanged. “I’m serious. You want freedom? You’ve got it. No more pretending. No more lies.”

I took a step back, my mind reeling. “I’m not agreeing to that,” I spat, every ounce of defiance rising within me. “You’re sick. You’re a monster.”

Noah raised an eyebrow, unphased. “You’ll come around,” he said. “You’ll see that it’s better this way. You’ll see that it’s worth every bit of it.”