06: Traitors!

→ Agatha ←

Three days had passed since the incident at Naomi’s house. The authorities finally confirmed there were no survivors, and Naomi had stayed home the entire time.

I visited once more but I didn’t know what else to offer her beyond sitting there in silence while she cried. Nothing I said seemed to help.

Since then I had become determined to fix my own marriage. Oscar and I had been distant since then, and the way I reacted that day kept replaying in my head.

I convinced myself I had been too insecure, too demanding, and too focused on everything he was doing wrong. Instead of questioning him I decided I needed to become the kind of wife he actually wanted again.

It was 7:30 pm and he would be home any minute.

I stood in front of the mirror and deliberately chose the lingerie I knew he used to like. The set was black and sheer, the bra pushing my breasts up so the tops of them were visible, the thin straps sitting soft against my shoulders.

The matching panties sat low on my hips and left most of my thighs bare. I ran my hands over my waist and down my stomach, turning slightly to check the way the fabric clung to my curves.

It had been a long time since we last had sex. Tonight I wanted to remind him that I was still his wife. I wanted him to look at me and not be able to resist.

Oscar’s keys turned in the door a little after 7:40. I was already standing in the pathway to the main bedroom of the suite when he stepped inside.

I walked straight up to him, slid my arms around his neck, and pressed my body against his. I breathed him in, the mix of his cologne and the faint smell of sweat from the office still clinging to his shirt.

“Welcome home,” I whispered against his neck.

He stiffened a little and pulled back enough to look at me properly. His eyes moved down over the black lingerie and then back up to my face.

“What are you doing? Why are you dressed like that?” He asked.

“I want to make you feel good. It’s been so long since my husband and I had a good time.” I said, keeping my voice soft.

I rose on my toes and kissed him, slow at first and then deeper, pouring everything I had into it. For a second his mouth moved with mine, but then he broke the kiss and turned his head away.

“I’m tired, Agatha.” He said dismissively.

“Then let me relieve your stress.” I kept my hands on his chest and slowly guided one of them down to my waist, then lower, trying to place his palm on my hip and the curve of my ass.

I arched into him a little, offering myself the way I was supposed to.

“Touch me. Please.”

He pulled his hand away like I had burned him.

“You’re a turn off right now. Put some clothes on. I’m tired.” He said, already stepping past me.

Embarrassment flooded my face and chest at the same time. I had spent time choosing this set, standing in front of the mirror, telling myself he wouldn’t be able to resist. Now he wouldn’t even look at me?

“Is something wrong?” I asked, following him a few steps.

“I told you that I’m tired. I don’t want to do this tonight.” He said without turning around.

“But it’s been so long since you touched me, Oscar. I have needs. I’m your wife. Our sex life can’t just keep disappearing like this.” I reached for his arm again, desperate to keep him from walking away.

He spun around.

“I’m not even in the mood! For fuck’s sake, Agatha, I also have somewhere to be tonight. Stop nagging me, and it’s not like you’re a great fuck anyway. Your pussy is so bland.”

I stood there with my mouth open, the tears already burning behind my eyes, but I forced them back.

“Where is this ‘somewhere else’ you have to be? It’s late.”

“I’m meeting someone.” He said, already unbuttoning his shirt as he walked toward the bathroom.

“Who?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“Because I deserve to know where my husband is going this late at night.” I said, following him.

He stopped at the bathroom door and looked at me with pure irritation.

“It isn’t your business.”

“It is my business, Oscar! You just got home from work and instead of spending the night with your wife you’re already leaving again. That doesn’t make sense.”

“You don’t need to know everything I do, Agatha.” He said.

Then he stepped into the bathroom and shut the door in my face. A second later I heard the shower turn on.

I wrapped my arms around myself, staring at the closed door while the tears I had been holding finally started to fall.

Why did my own husband have no desire for me anymore? Was I ugly now? Unattractive? Why the fuck wouldn’t he even look at me? Fuck, it hurt.

I feel so rejected that I can't breathe properly. Suddenly, his phone started ringing on the table.

I turned my head and looked at the screen.

My Love.

I froze.

My love? Questions started racing through my head so fast I couldn’t keep up. Who the hell was saved in his phone as My Love? Why would someone call my husband this late at night?

Why had I never heard of this person before? Was it a woman? Has Oscar been talking to someone behind my back this whole time? Why would he keep something like that from me?

My hand moved toward the phone. I was so tempted to answer it, to know, but just before my fingers touched the screen the shower stopped.

I scrambled back into bed, pulled the covers up, and closed my eyes like I had been lying there the whole time. A few seconds later the bathroom door opened.

Oscar walked out with a towel around his waist, but instead of reaching for his pajamas he started putting on fresh clothes. He picked up his phone without even glancing at me and walked out of the bedroom.

I stayed completely still and listened. I heard his footsteps move through the suite, then the front door open and close.

Only when I was sure he had left did I throw the covers off and start getting dressed. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely button my clothes.

~

I followed his car through the city with my hands gripping so tight around the steering wheel that my fingers started to go numb. I was terrified of what I might find but I couldn’t stop. The name on his phone had planted a suspicion I could no longer ignore.

Oscar eventually turned into a hotel parking lot.

A hotel? What the hell is he doing here? Is this the place he's meeting the person?

I parked a good distance away and watched him park his car. I kept telling myself there had to be another explanation.

Maybe it was a business thing. Maybe I was overthinking everything again. Then another vehicle pulled up to the entrance and my stomach dropped so hard I felt sick.

I recognized the car.

Naomi.

I gripped the steering wheel even tighter.

Please… it can’t be… I’m wrong. I have to be wrong.

I watched my sister step out of the car. She was dressed in a tight black dress that showed too much skin for a woman whose husband had just died three days ago. She walked toward the entrance confidently, pulling out her phone.

Shouldn’t she be grieving?

Naomi stopped under the hotel lights at the entrance and Oscar stepped out of his own car and headed the same way. The second he saw her he smiled. He actually smiled.

She walked straight up to him, rose on her toes, and kissed him.

I felt chills run down my spine.

There was nothing innocent about that kiss.

Oscar’s hands came up immediately, pulling her against him like this was something they had done a hundred times before and he kissed her back without hesitation.

I couldn’t move.

What’s happening? What does this mean? I’m hallucinating, right? Oscar is… having an affair with my sister? No. No. It can’t be. It can’t be.

It’s only been three days since her husband died and she’s already on Oscar? So they’ve been doing this behind my back the whole time?

Every moment I had previously dismissed came rushing back at once. The way he acted strangely whenever Naomi’s name came up. The nights he was always away. The secrecy with his phone. The way she had clung to him after the crash and the way everyone had made me feel cruel for saying anything about it.

I wasn’t imagining it.

I wasn’t being jealous.

I wasn’t being cruel.

I had simply been the only person in that room who didn’t know the truth.

My whole body started shaking. Tears spilled down my face so fast I couldn’t wipe them away. I pressed one hand over my mouth to keep the sound in but a broken sob still escaped.

My chest felt like it was caving in.

I remembered back in college when I used to think Oscar was in love with Naomi. The way he looked at her, the way he always found reasons to be near her.

Then she got engaged to someone else on graduation day and a week later Oscar proposed to me. I told myself I had been wrong all along. I told myself he loved me and not her.

I was so fucking stupid and gullible. The answer was right in front of me. He only asked me because he couldn’t have her. I was the replacement with the same face.

Aren’t I good enough? Why did he marry me if he never loved me? How long have they been fooling around behind my back? Just why?

The pain was so deep it made me fold forward over the steering wheel. Tears dripped onto my lap and my breath kept hitching in my throat until I was almost choking on it.

“Fuck you two!” I screamed inside the car, the words tearing out of me raw and ugly. Words couldn't describe just how much pain I was harboring right now.

“Fuck both of you!”