LOGINElena's Point Of View
The water was ice cold… blazing in its own cruel way, almost as if it were punishing me for feeling anything at all.
I stood beneath the stream, arms wrapped tightly around my chest, as if I could hold myself together with just that. My hair clung to my face, and my lips trembled, not from the cold, but from the weight pressing down on my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t even flinch as the water rushed over my skin like needles.
Silent tears slid down my cheeks and blended with the shower, indistinguishable. The cold helped. It numbed me just enough to keep the sobs at bay. Just enough to dull the ache… slightly.
I leaned my forehead against the tiled wall and closed my eyes.
“This is me… choosing my world.”
His words echoed again and again, ripping through me with every repetition. But then… was it because we hadn’t had sex in a while?
I blinked through the stream of water, a bitter laugh crawling its way up my throat. Maybe… maybe that was it. Men were physical creatures, weren’t they? Maybe this whole thing was just… lack of intimacy. A drought.
Maybe if I just reached out… He used to not be able to keep his hands off me. My body was his temple once, he told me that after our honeymoon, whispered it against my skin as he kissed every inch of me.
And maybe… just maybe… if I reminded him… There was still hope.
I shut off the tap with trembling fingers, letting the silence of the bathroom take over. My skin was goosebumped and pale, water still dripping from my hair. I wrapped the towel around myself slowly, like it was a ritual, like I needed every movement to count.
Then I walked to the bedroom.
The room was dim, the only source of light coming from the pale glow of his phone screen. He was lying on the bed, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other scrolling, eyes fixed, brows furrowed slightly.
I stood at the doorway, heart thudding like a war drum. I swallowed hard, then took a breath.
It always worked before. He always reached for me. Always. “Graham,” I called softly, stepping inside.
He didn’t look up.
“Graham,” I repeated, louder this time. Finally, his gaze lifted. I took one more step forward. And then… I let the towel fall.
It pooled at my feet like a soft whisper, and I stood there, bare, vulnerable, exposed in every possible way. My heart was racing so hard I thought I’d collapse. My hands were trembling, my knees weak, but I stayed still, holding his gaze, daring him to feel again.
For a fleeting moment… just a flicker, I saw it. Desire. The way his eyes darkened, the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, the pause in his breath.
‘Yes. Yes. There you are. My Graham. My husband.’
But then… He blinked. And it vanished. Like it never existed.
He turned his head, set his phone aside slowly, then sat up slightly, rubbing a hand over his face as if I’d just given him a problem to solve instead of an invitation.
“What are you doing, Elena?” he asked tiredly. “Get dressed.”
The words struck like a slap. My heart cracked open right then and there, and I felt the shame rush to my cheeks like fire.
But I refused to cry.
“You used to adore me,” I whispered, voice tight. “You used to worship me. My body. You used to look at me like I was the only woman in the world.”
He sighed and rubbed his temples. I took a step closer.
“What changed, Graham?” I demanded, eyes burning. “What happened to the man who couldn’t wait to get home to me? Who used to kiss me in every room, who used to sneak up behind me just to feel me against him?”
Another sigh. Long. Heavy. Resigned. “Elena,” he said, “You’re beautiful. You know that. I’ve always said you were beautiful.”
“Then what is it?” I choked out. “Do I not turn you on anymore? Do I disgust you?”
He looked up sharply. “No! It’s not that. You’re… God, you’re gorgeous. But I’m just not… I’m not in the mood. I’m not interested right now, okay?”
My lip trembled, and this time, I couldn’t stop the tears. They came, slow and steady, carving paths down my cheeks.
“Nothing I say or do will change your mind, will it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.
He didn’t respond. He just… looked away. And that silence? That nothing? It was worse than any harsh word he could have thrown at me.
I bent down quietly, picked up my towel, wrapped it around myself again.
Something inside me snapped, not with fury, but with clarity. A dull, cold clarity that terrified me.
“Since it’s an open marriage you want…” I said quietly, wiping a tear from my cheek, “Let’s have an open marriage.”
That made him turn back to me. His gaze met mine for a beat, expression unreadable. And then he said, “Good.” Just one word.
Good.
I nodded, heart in pieces.
Then I walked away, towel clenched tight in my fists, into the bathroom again, this time, not to cry. Not to freeze under water.
But to scream silently into a towel… so he wouldn’t hear me break.
**********
Three days later.
The rain hadn’t stopped. It had drizzled in the morning, poured like the heavens were grieving by afternoon, and now as evening rolled in, it tapped rhythmically against the windows like some mournful drumbeat.
I sat curled into the plush corner of our living room couch, a forgotten cup of tea lukewarm in my hands. The TV was on, but I couldn’t say what was playing. My eyes were locked on my phone screen, but I wasn’t really scrolling, just flicking mindlessly through reels of people laughing, loving, living.
Anything but feeling.
I kept waiting. Waiting for him to say it was a cruel joke. That he didn’t mean it. That it was the grief speaking. That the weight of not having a child was clouding his judgment.
I even imagined it.
He would walk in with those tired eyes of his, sit next to me, pull me into his arms and kiss my hair like he used to when I couldn’t sleep, whispering, "It’s just a dream, Elena… you’re still mine."
But nothing came.
Only silence. And then… the sound of keys jingling at the front door. I sat up slowly. My heartbeat quickened, hope sparking against reason.
The door opened with a casual push, and he stepped in.
But he wasn’t alone.
She came in after him. Tall. Elegant. Belly round and unmistakably pregnant. And behind them… the servants, two of them, carrying in suitcases and shopping bags.
My heart dropped so hard I could hear the thud echo inside my chest. “Graham…” I stood up, voice weak, almost afraid to speak. “What’s going on?”
He looked up and smiled like we were old friends catching up after years.
“Oh, Elena,” he said, as if surprised to see me standing there. “Good thing you’re here…”
“Spare me the long talks, Graham,” I snapped, my voice rising before I could stop it. My fists clenched. “What is she doing here?”
I already knew. God, I knew. But I needed to hear it. I needed him to say it. I needed it to burn all the way down.
He looked from me to her… her, with that smug little half-smile and one hand cradling her belly like a trophy, and then back to me.
He didn’t flinch.
Didn’t look ashamed. Didn’t even look sorry. “We’re together,” he said simply, brushing invisible lint from his coat. “She’s carrying my child.”
Roman's Point Of View I slammed the car door harder than necessary, the sound cutting through the quiet like a final punctuation to everything that had just happened. For a second, I didn't start the engine. I just sat there. Hands resting on the steering wheel, fingers curled loosely around the worn leather. My breathing came steady, measured… a deliberate contrast to the storm I'd just walked away from. Eyes fixed ahead, I stared through the windshield, but the road before me remained a blur of unfocused shapes and shadows. My gaze drifted to the passenger seat. The file sat there, its manila surface catching the late afternoon light. Neat. Untouched. Too pristine for something that had just dragged an entire family through hell and back again. I reached over and tapped it once with my fingers, the gesture almost reverent, then leaned back into the seat. The leather creaked beneath my weight, a familiar sound that usually brought comfort. Not today. "Damn."
Graham's Point Of View "I've had enough of this nonsense." The words emerged quietly, almost conversational in their delivery. They didn't need volume to carry weight. Everything about the way he stood… spine straight, shoulders relaxed, the way the gun rested in his hand like a natural extension of his arm, the way his eyes swept across the room without urgency, without panic, without the slightest flicker of doubt. That was enough. I froze for half a second, my muscles locking involuntarily. Not out of fear, though my heart hammered against my ribs. Out of disbelief. This situation had spiraled further than I'd anticipated, further than any of us could have imagined. Way further. And the worst part, the detail that made my stomach turn? We had walked straight into it, blind and arrogant. "Graham—" My mother's voice trembled, a hairline fracture running through her usually steady tone. That alone was enough to snap me back to the present moment. I moved, ad
Graham's Point Of View"He says he's here for the files." The words settled into the room like oil dropped into water… thick, heavy, spreading slowly, impossible to ignore. They hung in the air between us, carrying a weight that made my chest tighten. I frowned immediately, turning fully toward the man at the door. My pulse quickened despite my attempt to remain composed. "He's outside right now?" My voice came out sharper than I intended, edged with something between disbelief and anger. The staff member nodded, his discomfort evident in the way he shifted his weight. "Yes, sir. He refused to leave. I told him to come back tomorrow, but he insisted on waiting." I glanced at my father, half-expecting him to dismiss the intrusion entirely. He didn't hesitate. "Let's go." Of course. No questions. No second thoughts. No pause to consider what this might mean or who might have sent this stranger to our door. Just straight into confrontation, as if the night hadn't already unravel
Graham's Point Of View "Do you think Elena is behind it?" The question didn't hit me the way it should have. It didn't shock me. Didn't anger me. It just… settled. Heavy. Expected. Like a stone dropping into still water, sending ripples I'd already anticipated. I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I studied him, really looked at him. At the way his eyes had narrowed again, sharp and calculating, like everything had already shifted from anger to strategy. To suspicion. To blame. It was a familiar transformation, one I'd witnessed countless times throughout my life. My father never stayed vulnerable for long. I exhaled slowly, my gaze dropping briefly to the signed documents on the table before lifting back to him. The papers seemed to mock us both, sitting there so innocuously despite the chaos they represented. I paused. Because the answer wasn't simple, and he wouldn't accept anything complicated. Not right now. Not when everything was burning around us and he needed
Graham's Point Of View"I'll sign it."The moment the words left my mouth, something in the room shifted. Not dramatically. Not loudly. Just enough.My father's shoulders eased slightly, like a tension he'd been holding finally found a place to settle. The lines around his mouth softened, though his expression remained carefully controlled."Now you're talking sense," he said.His tone carried approval, but it wasn't warm. It was the kind of approval you gave a business decision, not a person. The kind that made you feel like a chess piece moved correctly across the board.My mother didn't waste time. She pushed the papers closer to me across the desk, the sound of them sliding against the polished wood loud in the silence. Her movements were precise, practiced, she'd orchestrated far more significant transactions than this."Good," she said softly, though her voice held an edge of finality. "Let's not drag this any further."I stared at the documents. My name was still there, printed
Graham's Point Of View"These are divorce papers." The words didn't register immediately. They hung in the air, suspended, as though my mind needed a few extra seconds to catch up with what my ears had just heard. It felt like being underwater… everything muffled, distorted, moving too slowly. My gaze dropped to the documents in my mother's hand. Then back to her face. Then back to the papers again. "No." The word came out under my breath. Barely audible. "That's not…" I took a step forward, reaching for them, but my hand stopped midway. My fingers trembled slightly, hovering in the space between us. Because I already knew. Before even reading a single line, something in my chest had already accepted it. That hollow, sinking feeling, the one you get when your body understands what your mind refuses to acknowledge. My mother watched me carefully, her expression a mixture of concern and something else I couldn't quite name. Pity, perhaps. "Graham?" I didn't answer. I
Hello lovelies, and happy new year!I know it’s been a long time since I’ve updated. It wasn’t because I didn't want to; I truly wanted to write, but I couldn't due to some very personal issues. There were moments when I would pick up my book to write and nothing would come out. I know I’ve disappoi
Elena’s Point Of ViewI was still trembling, still gasping for air, still drowning in the aftershocks of the orgasm that had wrecked me, when the world tilted again.One second, I was sprawled over his face, my body boneless, my mind floating in a haze of pleasure. The next… Whoosh. A blur of moveme
Jaxx’s Point Of View The room was quiet… too quiet, except for the soft, steady rhythm of her breath. Elena. My Elena. My fucking princess.She lay sprawled across me, boneless, trusting, completely surrendered, her body pressed tight against mine, her legs tangled with mine, her hands dropped pos
Elena’s Point Of ViewHis tongue was everywhere.Licking. Sucking. Flicking. Smacking.A filthy, relentless symphony of wet sounds and obscene pleasure that had my mind short-circuiting, my body arching, my hips grinding down against his face like I was starved for him. Like I needed him to breathe







