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01
2 hours.
I sat there for 2 hours.
I sat there in my lace, rouge red teddy with my garter sitting seductively on my bare thigh and in my black stiletto Christian Louboutin red bottom heels to match. My skin was glossy, moisturized from head to toe, almost patent, but I was ready to glisten from the glow of the orgasms he used to give me. I was ready for the lace to be ripped off my body, beyond repair, only to be left in my garter and my Louboutins. I was ready to be ravished by the man who put that final ring on my finger only five years ago, today.
But that wasn't going to happen-and deep down, I knew it.
I waited and waited, hoping, praying, wishing on stars that probably had long since burned out. I imagined him walking through the double doors of the house we built together, his eyes dark with the same hunger he used to have for me. I pictured him lifting me off my feet, carrying me to the kitchen table to devour the two-course meal I had spent hours preparing, only to then devour me for dessert.
However, that dream shattered when I woke up, still in my ensemble, sitting on the edge of our marital bed in the dark of night. The house was still, save for the sound that ultimately ripped me apart-a hearty laugh, his laugh, followed by the soft giggle of another.
I quickly wrapped my silk robe around my body, the cool fabric sticking to the heated skin that was still embarrassingly primed for him, and silently crept down our grand staircase.
What I was met with wasn't a surprise, but it still chipped at my beating heart every single time.
There he was-Chase.
The man I promised my life to.
The man who now belonged to someone else every night and expected me to pretend it didn't shatter me.
His wedded hand was twisted in a fistful of her red hair-his favorite color. He devoured her lips like they were oxygen and he was suffocating. She clung to him with desperate fingers, and he didn't seem to care that anyone could see, least of all his wife.
I stood there, arms crossed over my chest, clutching my robe tighter, waiting, hoping he would notice me. But, as per usual, he didn't.
I felt a single tear slip down my cheek as the pain I had anesthetized for so long finally woke up again, sharp and all-consuming.
"Chase-" she breathed, gasping as he trailed kisses down her neck to her shoulder.
"Cha-Chase, your wife is here," she moaned, almost embarrassed but too caught up in him to really care.
I felt bile claw up my throat. He slowly looked over his shoulder at me, as if I were nothing more than an inconvenient interruption.
I couldn't even meet his eyes. I felt myself instinctively covering my chest with the tiny silk material wrapped around me, shrinking under his gaze.
"Hey-hey baby, what are you doing up? I'm so sorry we woke you," he said casually, like he was apologizing for stepping on my foot, "I just wanted to spend tonight with my girlfriend, you can go back-"
"You asked her to be your girlfriend tonight?" I felt my voice break, the words tumbling from my lips like shards of broken glass.
He looked startled for a brief moment. Then he placed his hands on my arms, as if that would somehow tether me back to him. "Baby, we-we spoke about this. You said you were okay with this, you were the one who wanted this open relationship so I wouldn't cheat-"
And there it was.
The blame.
The guilt.
The manipulation that he wielded so perfectly.
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