His Proposal.

Chapter 1.

Nova Sinclair.

“I want an open marriage.”

That’s the very phrase I have been hearing for the past two weeks, and I just hoped it would meet its dead end today.

It’s Aaron and I two-year anniversary today, and I am here in the kitchen trying to whip us some cake, if that would help bloom the dead plant we call marriage.

Ordering wouldn’t be so bad, but I felt preparing it myself could just help me connect to the marriage that was already slipping away.

Aaron and I have been married for two years, and trust me, the first five months of it were beautiful until hell went loose.

I don’t know what happened. I still can’t put a name to why our marriage suddenly felt like a contract that bound two roommates, but a tiny part of me believed there was something for us if he was willing to give us one last chance.

So I thought… until the worst happened.

I moved to the dining, which was a beautiful place of four chairs, one table, and of course, petals that I had bathed the place with, then placed the cake in the middle of the table while dressing the chair.

When I was done, I moved to the bar section of the house to pick some glass cups and wine and headed back to the dining, but my legs barely made it past the exit when I suddenly heard the coherent sound of rough movements.

My brows pulled together and I dragged my legs forward, but I wished I didn’t, because the moment I got to the living room where the sound was coming from, my legs froze in place and the wine and glasses in my hand went crashing down.

Aaron was on the couch, smooching and caressing his mistress while she threw her head back and moaned ecstatically as he sucked on her boobs.

The loud sound of clashing objects filled the air and they both jolted, disengaging from the act.

“Aaron…” I called with a trembling voice, trying so hard to understand what was happening, but he didn't seem to budge.

Not like it was his first time cheating, but this was actually his first time bringing a woman home.

Silence fell in, and the lady grabbed her dress, covering her boobs with it while he finally turned to face me.

“What is wrong with you?” he asked, seeming unbothered by his act or my feelings.

My eyes moved to the lady, then to him again.

“You are cheating…” I said with a trembling voice, like it was his first time and he rolled his eyes in a way that broke my heart even more.

“I suggested an open marriage already. Why are you complaining?”

Complain? My heart cracked as the weight of his words pressed into me. Yeah… he had suggested an open marriage, but I thought that today being our anniversary, we could make the most out of it.

Tears stung my eyes as I watched the lady move her hands on his chest.

“It’s… it’s our anniversary today, Aaron… and… and you could have respected it… respected us?”

“Us?” His lips twitched to the right and he let out a pathetic scoff.

“There is no us, Nova. You and me? It was never out of love, so get this anniversary thing out of your head and go screw whoever wants to screw a log of freaking wood.”

Log of wood? My heart tightened but I didn't know if it was because of his words or because of the way his eyes dragged over my body slowly and cruelly.

“Look at you,” he added, his voice dripping with disdain.

“Size eight waist, pretending those wide hips make you desirable. You think those hips mean anything when you don’t even know how to use your body?”

My breath hitched for a second, and my vision followed, blurring as his words stabbed at my chest.

I wanted to believe my ears. I wanted to believe he wasn’t saying this to me because a tiny part of me couldn’t bring myself to accept the truth.

When Aaron and I got married, he was the sweetest man ever. For the first five months of our marriage, he treated me like I was the only thing that mattered, and that made me feel valued, because no one ever treated me that way.

Not my mother, who left me and my brother to pain. Not my father, who hated my mother and transferred the hatred to us. And certainly not my stepmother and sister, who made me take my stepsister’s place in this horrible marriage. I was a 22 year old graduate who married Aaron in place of her sister to save her dying brother, and for a heartbeat, I had felt love existed because of how he treated…

But.

God. I felt numb from pain and the reality that was slowly creeping back in.

Tears formed on my lids and I blinked them back.

Perhaps I was the problem.

Perhaps there was something I was not doing right so I took a step forward.

“Why?” I asked in pain, trying to control the way my voice trembled. “Why are you cheating on me? Why? I am a woman and so is she. So tell me. What does she have, Aaron, that I didn’t have?”

“Use,” he replied coldly without hesitation. “She has use, okay? She bends for me. Kneels for me. Stands and takes me however I want it. Unlike you who just lies on the bed doing nothing. You may actually think having this curvy shape is a flex…nah. The real flex is knowing how to clap those ass and hips for me, and you lack every inch of that. Being beautiful is not enough! You are not enough,” he murmed the last one, and my heart sank into my stomach but he didn’t stop there.

“You walk around with those hips like they’re some prize, but you don’t excite me,” he continued coldly.

“All that body and still boring. Still stiff. Still useless.”

His words rang in my ears like a bell. This wasn’t the first time he was saying that, but I never seemed to get used to it.

Tears blurred my vision, but I moved forward, blinking them back gently.

“You say I am not enough… I cook for you. I clean for you. I keep records of your schedules, daily life, the colors of clothes you want according to the days of the week—”

“How about in bed?” he asked, cutting me off before I could finish.

My words trailed off, and I stood still.

Shocked. Dumbfounded. Unable to say a word.

Aaron’s shoulders raised in a shrug as he picked the glass on the side table, swaying it lazily.

“See?” he said mockingly.

“You can do every other thing aside from bending your ass and being useful. I mean, look at you… wide hips, soft body, and all you do is lie there and cry some weak ‘o’ like a stacked-up bag.”

“I am trying,” I yelled, but only a cracked whimper came out.

“Trying is not what I need,” he snapped.

“I want freedom. I deserve it. Go screw whoever you want, okay? I don’t care. I don’t care about this marriage or the anniversary you’re so damn desperate about.”

His voice softened as he leaned back into the lady, who had not stopped caressing him like I wasn’t there. He planted a gentle kiss on her lips, and they both giggled.

My heart shattered into tiny million pieces, and I stood still, too broken to accept reality.

Two years of marriage should be filled with love and affection, but it was different with us. And trust me… I never had the intention to love him, but he swept me off my feet and showered me with the kind of affection no one ever had.

And I thought I had arrived. But I guess… I guess I was the only one clinging to a “us” that never existed, trying to fix a home that was never even a house.

With pain still stabbing at my chest, I blinked back my tears.

“Let’s get a divorce,” I said in a firm voice, and the air went completely still.

Their movements faltered, and so did mine, and for a brief second I thought he felt it. But he started laughing, and his mistress joined him, making me look even more pathetic than I already felt.

When the laughter subsided, Aaron turned to me, his face completely devoid of emotion.

“Divorce? You want a divorce?”

“Yes,” I said firmly, and he took a step closer, his steps daring.

“If you want a divorce, who would take care of your brother whose diseases never end, huh?”

My chest tightened. Right. I almost forgot I got into this marriage in exchange to save my brother’s life. If I leave now… I won’t have enough money to cover his medical bills.

The tears in my eyes stung harder, but I blinked them back, wondering where it had all gone wrong and why pain would never stop.

From being abandoned, to being maltreated, then getting married to the devil himself. When will the circle end?

I sniffed back the tears in my eyes and made to leave, but his voice filled the air again.

“If you are wondering why I married you, just know it was because you were convenient,” he said cruelly.

“And honestly? No man is lining up for a woman with a body she doesn’t even know how to use. Good luck finding another one… that’s if anyone wants to touch a corpse disguised as a 5’6 woman.”

My fingers curled harder, my nails digging into my palms, trying to ground every nerve in me that felt like breaking.

I refused to cry. I refused to cower.

I was done being the victim.

Open marriage. It sounded raw, but definitely the best thing I needed to move past this.

Without another word, I ran upstairs and threw myself into something hot.

Since he wanted an open marriage, I would give him one in folds.