Lahat ng Kabanata ng My Fake Husband Wants A Threesome: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

BiancaI am home earlier than usual, stretched out on the living room couch, pretending to look through a fashion magazine. But my attention keeps sliding over to Rosa. She is lying on a yoga mat, bending her body into shapes that seem impossible, making me wonder if her bones are made of rubber.“Does that not hurt?” The words escape before I can stop them. There is no way a person can bend that far without something breaking.Rosa laughs softly, looking back at me without coming out of her pose. “Actually, it feels like freedom.” She turns her head just enough to offer a playful grin. “You should try it. It could help you relax.”I let out a dismissive sound. “No, thank you. I am in my thirties. My body does not do… that,” I say, waving a hand toward her, “and I am perfectly content to keep all my bones where they belong.”Rosa smoothly unravels from one position and flows into another, making it seem as easy as breathing. “Age is just a idea, Bianca. You feel as old as you think yo

The whole drive home, my mother’s voice is like a poison in my head. I hold the steering wheel so tight my hands ache. The anger builds with every mile. By the time I pull in and see Brandon’s car, I am ready to tear everything apart.He is waiting on the porch, his shape dark against the light.“Bianca!” he says, coming forward as I walk up. “What the hell happened? Your mother called from the police station. She asked for my lawyer.”I stop, looking him over from head to toe. I see his tight jaw, his restless hands. I try to slow my breathing, to relax my fists, to put out the fire inside me. But the anger is a wild animal, and the more I look at him, the harder it is to keep it in.I take a step forward. When I am so close I can feel his breath, I ask, “Did you tell my mother to kill me?”“What?” he says.I say it again, slowly. “Did you tell her to throw me off the Brooklyn Bridge?”He looks at me as if I am crazy, his mouth opening and closing with no sound. “Bianca, I… I would n

I look at her, not understanding. "Frozen? That can not be right. There must be a problem with your machine. That is my account. I would know if it was frozen."The woman behind the desk does not change her expression. It is like she has seen this a hundred times with people who come here late at night. "I am sorry, but it is," she tells me. "The system says it is blocked."Anger starts to heat my blood. This has Brandon written all over it. But a small, logical part of me is not sure. How could he even do this? We share this account. That is the whole point of a joint account; both people have to agree on big changes. So there has to be another reason for this. There had better be."What do you expect me to do now?" I ask.The woman, Angela, moves nervously, typing on her keyboard again as if the answer might suddenly appear. When nothing happens, she meets my eyes. "I am truly sorry. Do you want me to run the card one more time?"I make myself take a breath. "No. It is fine. I will

A few minutes later, we stop in front of Julian’s home, and the sight of it makes me forget to breathe.This is not a house. It is a fortress of glass and stone, huge and modern, with windows that stretch up toward the sky. The driveway curves through a perfect, green garden that looks like it belongs in a movie.Julian looks at me, sees me staring, and gives a knowing smile. He gets out and walks over to my door.“Do you live here all by yourself?” I ask, my voice quiet.“Why?” He seems entertained by my question. “Does it look like a lonely place?”“Lonely? No. It is just… very big.”He lets out a soft laugh. “I like having room,” he says. It sounds like a simple reason, but I feel there is more to it.“I can tell,” I say.He holds out his arm in a grand gesture. “Welcome to my castle, Bianca. My home is your home.”The night air is cool, and the smell of flowers hangs around us as we walk up the wide stone steps. I look at the huge door and the tall pillars. The whole place feels l

Brandon lets out a breath that is not steady. “So this is where we end up? You are forcing my hand?”“Use any word you like,” Elaine tells him. “But yes, Brandon. You want Bianca back? You want your old life? Then you get me out of this place. It is as simple as that.”He pushes his hands through his hair, finding it hard to look directly at her. He does not want to do this. The thought alone makes his stomach turn. But what other path is there? Bianca is falling away from him, and with her goes everything, his good name, his family’s opinion of him, the life he built so carefully.“Fine,” he says. The word tastes bad. “I will speak to my lawyer. If he can somehow get you released, you will fix this. You will make Bianca understand that this divorce is wrong.”Elaine’s smile is wide and pleased. “Naturally,” she says, leaning back with a deep, contented breath. “I will do everything necessary, dear. I am certain Bianca and I will have a very productive talk.”He feels a sick heat in h