Chapter 3 - I Want An Open Marriage

RACHEL

It took Jeremy days to warm up to me again. There were days when he barely ate and said nothing to me. He left the house every morning before I woke up and returned very late at night.

At work, he ignored me and only spoke to me about business. At some point, I got exhausted and became eager to settle the rift between us.

But things were different this morning; he didn’t leave the house before I woke up. Instead, he came to wake me and asked me to prepare breakfast for him. For the first time in days, it felt like I could breathe again.

I was excited. After days of silent treatment, I thought I would die. I thought I wouldn’t survive it.

Instantly, I got up and went into the kitchen to make pancakes, scrambled eggs, and tea.

My hands trembled slightly as I set the table. While I was setting the table, he came over and took a seat. I joined him afterward, and we ate in silence. I sneaked peeks at him with each bite. It had been four years, yet my heart still wouldn’t stop beating fast around him.

“Let’s talk about us, Rachel.” The silence at the table broke. I froze before slowly turning to face him. He took several sips of tea and put the mug down. “We can’t keep fighting over the same topic every time. I’m exhausted already.”

My chest tightened as his words sank in. An ominous feeling settled in my chest. He was either about to ask for a divorce or promise to change for good, but I knew the latter wasn’t an option. Change wasn’t a part of Jeremy.

I didn’t say a word. I silently finished my meal, cleared the table, and returned to my seat.

“What is it you want to talk about, Jeremy?” I asked, intertwining my hands to stop them from shaking.

“Uhm… a lot has been going on in our marriage,” he began.

I nodded in agreement, pursing my lips. “A lot… yeah,” I muttered.

“You aren’t giving me the opportunity to explore, Rachel. This marriage feels tight and uncomfortable,” he said, looking serious and defensive. “I feel suffocated. Restricted. Locked,” he added, emphasizing each word. “This isn’t what marriage should feel like. I should be free, not bound. I should be comfortable, not choked.”

My lashes fluttered, and I scoffed in disbelief. Lowering my head, I forced a smile to keep my emotions from overwhelming me. I didn’t trust my voice enough to speak.

Raising my head, I replied, “So, are you saying I’ve been suffocating you?” I tried to keep my voice from shaking.

“No, Rachel. That’s not the point. I’m just saying you are too strict with some rules, and it’s really causing problems between us,” he defended, and I let out a few short bursts of sad laughter.

I hated that he was beating around the bush when he could just be direct with me. The anxiety and nervousness building inside me could make me pass out if he didn’t say what he wanted soon.

“I think I know where this is going, Jeremy,” I said, nibbling on my lower lip and digging my nails into my lap to stop myself from breaking down. “You don’t need to keep going back and forth. You’re a man. Talk to me. What do you want? What’s the solution to all the problems you think we have?” My breath caught in my throat.

“Let’s have an open marriage, Rachel,” he said plainly, his eyes devoid of emotion. He was just there—neutral and expressionless, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb.

I didn’t react for a few seconds because I was still trying to make sure I hadn’t misheard him.

“Did I hear that correctly?” My face tightened.

“You heard correctly, Rachel,” he confirmed. “Listen to me… this decision is for the best. You will stop worrying about my affairs, and I will stop worrying about hurting you. It works for both of us,” he added.

I snorted. This had to be the funniest joke of the century. A multitude of emotions swirled in my stomach. I didn’t know how to react. Should I shout? Cry? Or even slap him for the disrespect?

The most annoying part was Jeremy’s nonchalance. He didn’t seem to realize how ridiculous his suggestion was.

“Are you listening to me?” His voice drifted into my ears, breaking my train of thought.

When I looked at him, uncontrollable laughter rose from my chest, and I burst out laughing without restraint. He was damn serious. He had to be. Open marriage? What the hell was that?

“You’re joking, right?” I muttered through my laughter, covering my mouth with my palm. “No, Jeremy. You have to be joking.”

His expressionless face shifted into confusion, then a smile. “No, Rachel. I’m damn serious. An open marriage will work best for us.”

I shook my head. “No. No. No,” I said, my tone filled with disbelief. “You have to be joking. You can’t be serious. I’m not believing this.”

“You should stop this, Rachel. Your denial isn’t—”

I cut him off.

“And what if I object?” My voice was firm and steady, just like my gaze.

“You have no right to. I’ve been thinking about this for days before bringing it up. Trust me, there’s no way on earth I’m going to do anything that will hurt you,” he explained.

A few short laughs escaped my lips. “You wouldn’t do anything that would hurt me, huh? What do you think you’re doing to me right now, Jeremy? Helping me?” I paused and swallowed the lump in my throat. “Answer me. Are you doing me a favor right now?” I snarled, hitting the table.

He tilted his head slightly. “Well, if you ask me… I’d say yes.”

My brows furrowed. “What!” My hands went cold.

Just then, his phone lit up and began to ring.

His lips spread into an excited smile when he glanced at the caller ID.

At that moment, it felt like my heart was being crushed. It was easy to guess that one of the women was calling. Tears rushed to my eyes, burning as they gathered. My blood boiled. My body shook, but I held myself back.

“Excuse me, honey. I need to pick someone up outside.” He stood and headed out without waiting for my response.

Gritting my teeth, I clenched my fists and placed them on the table. I was afraid my outburst might ruin everything this morning. No wonder he came to my bedroom and acted so perfectly earlier… he was preparing me for something worse.

A moment later, footsteps echoed through the house. The door opened, revealing a familiar yet unfamiliar face, followed by my husband, who dragged in two pieces of luggage.

I sprang up from my seat the moment I recognized her. “What is she doing here? Why is she in our home?” I rushed out, leaving the dining area and dashing into the living room.

“Calm down, Rachel,” Jeremy muttered. Then, holding out his hand with a smile, he said, “Meet Clara.”He paused. “My girlfriend. She’ll be staying with us from now on.”

“What!” I blurted out. My world tilted.