Chapter 4

Jasmine’s POV

I woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache. I sat up in bed, clutching the duvet to my chest as I realized I wasn’t home.

Memories of the night before came rushing back in painful flashes. The club, the tequila, the devastating breakdown, and the stranger I had tried to hire to help me make Caleb jealous.

Panic seized my throat.

I looked down and realized I was still fully clothed, with my dress wrinkled but intact. Beside the bed and sitting in an armchair was the stranger, who was fast asleep, with his long legs stretched out.

Humiliation washed over me in waves as I remembered all that I had told him. I had broken down, sobbed like a child, and tried to pay a complete stranger to pretend to love me.

"What is wrong with me?" I whispered to myself.

I scrambled off the bed, with my hands shaking uncontrollably. I grabbed my purse, pulled out the stack of cash I had brought with me, and set it on the bedside table, because I wanted to pay him for the room and his time so I could pretend this shameful night never happened.

Without looking back, I hurried out of the suite and fled without daring to look back.

When I let myself into my house through the back door, I tried not to make noise as I went straight to the guest room, showered, and changed into a plain dress.

When I stepped into the living room, I saw Caleb sitting on the sofa, while scrolling through his phone. When he saw me, a look of utter disdain crossed his face.

"You are still here?" he asked, with his voice dripping with mock surprise. "I assumed you had finally taken the hint and moved out."

Desperation and old habits clawed at me as I walked towards him. 

"Caleb, please. I was just hurt and confused, but I do not want an open marriage,” I begged, hoping he would hear me out. “I do not want anyone else, so please, can we just go back to how things were? I will do anything. I will be better."

"Better?"

The voice came from the stairs. Emily walked down wearing one of my robes, with her hand resting smugly on her stomach. She came down and flopped down beside Caleb on the couch.

"You really are a glutton for punishment, Jasmine," Emily mocked. "He already told you to get lost. I am the mother of his child now, and you are just the help that will not leave."

Caleb let out a dry laugh and pulled Emily into his arms.

"It is honestly embarrassing to watch you beg, Jasmine. You have no dignity left, and why would I want a woman who grovels at my feet when I have someone like Emily?"

I buried my face in my hands as painful tears spilled down my cheeks.

Two days passed in a hellish blur as I stayed locked in the guest room, only coming out when the house was silent. On the third morning, I crept downstairs to get some water, only to meet Caleb and Emily at the dining table, eating and kissing openly.

I tried to quickly escape, but it was too late.

"Look who decided to join the living," Emily chirped. "I was just telling Caleb that the house feels so much lighter when you stay hidden in your room."

Caleb smirked.

"Careful, Emily. If she cries any more, we might have to worry about water damage."

I stood near the edge of the room, with my hands trembling as their insults ate deep at me.

"You know, Jasmine," Caleb said, his eyes fixing on me with cold amusement. "Since we have an open marriage now, I expected you to at least try to find someone. But then again, who would want a boring, useless housewife? You are lucky I even let you stay here."

Something inside me finally snapped, and the years of submissiveness and torture made rage boil in me.

"Actually, Caleb," I said, forcing my voice to be steady. "I have found someone. I have a boyfriend now."

The silence that followed was instant as Emily’s smirk vanished and Caleb’s face twisted with disbelief. I hoped that by lying, they would leave me alone.

"What did you just say?" he sneered.

"I have a boyfriend," I repeated, holding my head high. "Since you insisted on an open marriage, I decided to take your advice."

"The hell you did!" Caleb snapped, slamming his hands on the table as he stood up in rage. "You are my wife, and you do not get to go out and flaunt yourself with other men! I do not care what I said, you are not allowed to date!"

"You cannot have it both ways, Caleb!" I yelled back, with my heart aching. "You brought your mistress into our home! You cannot tell me—"

"I can tell you whatever I want!" he roared, taking a threatening step toward me. "You are lying anyway. No one would look at you twice, let alone—"

A loud knock at the front door cut him off.