Open Marriage: It Takes Two To Tango

"Can we start with the bad part?"

The speakers were blaring the latest hip-hop song of the month. Colored neon lights flickered as the clubbers cheered and tore up the dance floor in their skimpy, flashy, and expensive clothes.

Everyone dancing was booed up. The ladies rocked their partners like there was no tomorrow. At the bar, drinks flowed like water. There were bottles of booze and tequila shots lined up on the counter. The bartenders did their magic as the DJ did his.

On the balcony was a VIP lounge that gave a clear view of the dance floor. Three men in well-ironed shirts and pants sat around a table. In the middle was a man who had his sleeves rolled up. He picked up a glass and gulped down its contents. As he poured himself another glass of bourbon on the rocks, his hand was grabbed.

"That's enough, dude. You have had three glasses already," his friend said, reaching out to grab the bottle.

Scott Brown gave him a stink eye and said, "Get your hands off me." With that, he yanked his hand away and downed another glass. He had a high tolerance for alcohol, but he was already feeling intoxicated at the moment.

His other friend, Anthony James, set down his glass of wine and leaned forward. "Come on, Scott. Drinking won't solve anything. You know that, don't you?"

Scott slammed the glass on the table and clenched his fists while gritting his teeth. "I should have punched that asshole in the face. You guys should have seen the smirk he gave me. And Zara, she didn't even acknowledge my presence at all. She just got into his car and he drove off. Gosh, I hate her so much!"

"No, you don't!" Leonard Walter, who had barely gotten over the shock of being shouted at, piped up. "You might not be in love with Zara, but you don't hate her."

Scott flared up immediately. "Shut up! That's not the point. The point is she brought her little boyfriend to the house!"

"If you ask me, that's kind of your fault. Didn't you say that Cora sometimes spends the night at your house?" Anthony chimed in. "As far as I know, no woman would be happy that her husband brings his ex-girlfriend home."

"Point of correction, Cora is not my ex-girlfriend. We were kids at the time. That's all," Scott rebuffed, pouring himself another drink.

He then looked at his friends. "Come on, guys. You are supposed to be on my side. Tell me what to do to get rid of that idiot sticking to my wife!"

"Ermm... I think that's going to be very difficult," Anthony said, his eyes somewhere else.

Scott sharply turned to him. "And why is that?"

When he didn't get a response, he followed his friend's line of vision. What he saw next caused a grenade to go off inside him.

On the dancefloor was his wife, Zara Hall. She was twisting her body with reckless abandon. A familiar man had his hands on her thin waist. Her eyes were closed and she had one of her hands up in the air. The dress she had on was so skimpy. It set off her curves and cleavage.

Scott was about to pop a vein at the sight of this. "Argh! I'm gonna kill him!"

Before his friends could react, he rushed downstairs. He boldly nudged people out of his way with his eyes still on the duo in the middle of the dancefloor.

The second he got to them, he grabbed her man by the collar and punched him in the face. Finally, Zara opened her eyes in horror. Without glancing at her, Scott pounced on the man who was already sprawled on the floor and holding his bloodied nose.

"You freaking idiot! How dare you touch my wife like that? I'm gonna kill you today!" Scott cussed out as he landed punches on the man's face. His anger completely blinded him at this moment.

As blood gushed out of the man's nose, someone screamed, and then another. The crowd soon moved backward, leaving the two men in the middle.

"Stop it, Scott! Stop!" Zara screamed, grabbing her crazy husband. Her fingers sank into his skin, but he didn't budge. A group of fierce bouncers came and yanked Scott up with great effort.

The beaten man coughed out blood on the marble floor. Seeing this, Zara ran to him and squatted. "Are you okay? Oh, my God!"

This made Scott even angrier. He broke free from the bouncers' grip and grabbed his wife's wrists.

"Let me go!" she screamed as he dragged her out of the club. Her words fell on deaf ears.

Scott dragged her all the way to the parking lot and shoved her into his Rolls-Royce. With a hard face, he locked her in before turning around and getting in the driver's seat.

Zara became a little calmer when he drove out of the club's premises. She folded her arms and frowned at him. A weighted silence fell in the car.

Scott went past the first red light and stepped on the gas. He swerved past many of the vehicles on the highway. Afraid, Zara held the handhold on the roof of the car. "Slow down! Please!" she cried when she saw that he was doing 120.

Again, he turned a deaf ear to her. Zara held on for her dear life until the car pulled up at their home. She got out and threw up in a hibiscus flower vase.

"I don't want to ever see you with that guy!" Scott ordered as soon as she walked into the living room.

Zara wiped her mouth and fired back. "Why?"

"What do you mean why? You are a married woman, Zara Hall! How dare you rock another man in public like a slut?"

After staggering a little, she folded her arms and faced him squarely for the first time in their one-year-old marriage. "I want a divorce, Scott."

"What?" Scott couldn't believe his ears.

She repeated, "You heard me. I want a divorce!"

"You have got to be kidding me. I should be the one making a fuss. I caught you cheating on me!"

"No, I didn't cheat. You asked for an open marriage, and I gave you just that. You didn't think I would just sit back and watch as you frolic with Cora and anything else on skirts, did you?" Zara's eyes blazed as she argued.

Her tone rendered Scott speechless. He could hardly recognize the woman in front of him.

With a teasing smile at the corners of her lips, Zara slowly walked over to him. She then stood on her toes and whispered in his ear, "It takes two to tango, Scott. Also, two can play the game..."