Page 5 of All That She Needs

I forced myself to slip out of bed; the wooden floor felt smooth and cold under my feet. I wrapped myself in a light robe and made my way downstairs. The house was still and peaceful, a picture of calm before the bustle of the day began. I began the usual task of making breakfast for my family. My mood was good, so I was whistling.

My husband was all mine again.

I wasn't sure what that made me. I knew I should be stronger than this. I knew I wasn't supposed to be this accepting. He lied to me. He cheated on me. And he didn't know that I knew. But I always knew. At first, it was just a hunch. I noticed the change in him, subtle at first, but it grew more obvious. The quiet smile on his face when he read a text on his phone. The faraway look of longing when he thought nobody saw, and most of all, the way he spoke about her. He was so enthralled, so unaware of how his face lit up when he mentioned her name.

Then, late nights at the office became more frequent. More business trips, more client dinners, taking him away more often than he was home. Always with an excuse to be somewhere else, with someone else. The secretive calls he made from the home office became frequent, and the door would be closed, his voice reduced to a hush.

The apparent exhaustion on his face told a story of its own. It must be tiring, I thought, to live a double life. The weight of deceit etched lines of weariness into his features. But what hurt me the most was the realization that it was us—me andour children—whom he had sacrificed. We were the ones left behind, traded for stolen moments with her. It was the choice he consciously made every day just to be with her, even though he knew he had to let go of us a little more each time.

But despite the tiredness, he was so happy. It broke me to see him like that—beaming, carefree, exactly like someone falling deeply in love. He smiled more, laughed more, and carried a lightness I hadn't seen in him in a long time. I watched from the sidelines as he reveled in the joy she brought to him, a joy that had nothing to do with me. Aiden fell in love with another woman. That fact, I knew for certain. I had confirmed it. I had pictures to confirm it too.

It shattered me. But still, I stayed.

And then one day, Aiden came home a broken man. I knew right away that they broke up. I knew because the devastation was written all over his face. The brightness that had once filled his eyes was gone, replaced by silent despair. I didn't know if she had let go of him or if he had been the one to walk away, but I could tell that losing her shattered him to pieces. He was brokenhearted, and though he tried to hide it from us, his efforts were in vain. The cracks in his pretense were too deep, and the pain he felt was too raw to conceal.

I knew he cried—really sobbed—when he locked himself away in his office at home. He loved her that much. It transformed Aiden, who had always been arrogant, cold, and detached, into a pathetic, pitiful mess that I could barely recognize. There were moments when he would just sit, staring at his phone, as if waiting for it to ring or desperately hoping for a reply to his texts. He became obsessed with dealing with questionable urgent matters that conveniently arose at night, even on weekends, pulling him away from us at everyopportunity. But I knew the truth. He was there, wherever she was, trying relentlessly to get her back.

Then, suddenly, it all stopped. Completely. He was still devastated; that much was clear, as the pain was perpetually etched into his every expression, his every movement. But the late nights, the secret calls, the unexplained absences—they all ceased. Slowly, I began to nurture a hope that the Aiden I once knew might come back to me.

I stopped crying myself to sleep, but I was still hurting.

I smiled at him, masking the pain, but my heart was still bleeding.

I should have confronted him. I wanted to confront him. But I was too terrified of losing him. Aiden was my entire life, my whole heart, and I knew I would cling to him, no matter how much he hurt me, probably until the day I died.

It wasn't because of his beautiful face, though he was a beautiful man. It also wasn't because of his money, or the mansion, or the private plane, or the holiday homes, because those things never mattered much to me.

I just loved him so much. And, honestly, I had forgotten the reason why. I just did. It was a love that defied logic, that persisted even when all the reasons seemed to fade away.

I jumped slightly when a large pair of hands encircled my waist, pulling me away from my thoughts. Warm lips pressed against the crook of my shoulder, sending a shiver along my spine.

"Morning," Aiden muttered against my skin, his voice low and husky. Then he pulled me closer, pressing me to flush against him, his grip tightening until I was almost on tiptoe. He was already showered, dressed in a suit, ready for work. "I was looking for you when I woke up. I missed you."

"You know where I always am," I replied softly, a smile spreading across my face despite the lingering ache in my chest. In this moment, I was content. Probably, I was delusional. Probably, I was deep in denial. It didn't matter as long as I had my Aiden again.

"You're supposed to be in our bed. Right next to me," he murmured against my ear, making me shiver.

I leaned back into his embrace, reveling in the warmth of his body as it seeped into mine. "I didn't want to wake you."

His hands moved up from my waist, grazing my ribs before resting just below my chest. He pulled me even closer, and I inhaled his familiar scent, letting my eyes close for a moment. I wanted to hold on to this feeling, but I couldn't shake the lingering doubt. He betrayed me in the most hurtful way. He fell in love with someone else. He neglected me, and our family, over someone else. The memories of the nights he spent away, choosing her over his family time and time again, and the pain he caused that I still felt until now, wouldn't let me forget.

And yet, here he was, holding me as if nothing had changed, as if we were still the same loving couple we had always been.

"Something wrong?" he observed, his voice softening as he noticed my silence.

I shook my head, unsure if I could trust my voice. I didn't want to break the peace of this morning with the weight of my thoughts. Instead, I turned in his arms, wrapped mine around his neck, and pulled him into a kiss. It was slow and tender, carrying all the unspoken feelings I couldn't say. Despite everything, I still loved him. I wanted to focus on the future, to forgive the past, but I wasn't there yet. Maybe I just needed more time. When we finally parted, I rested my forehead againsthis, our breaths mingling in the thin space between us. He was still looking at me with worry. I knew he sensed something was not right with me, but he, too, probably didn't want to ruin this perfect morning.

He smiled, that charming, heart-melting smile that had captivated me all those years ago, and still continued to do so now. "I love you, Ash," he said in a whisper. His words sounded sincere, but there was something else that seemed distant behind them that made my heart clench. I knew he meant it, but I also knew there were parts of him I couldn't reach anymore, parts that had been taken by someone else.

As he pulled me into another embrace, I closed my eyes and let myself fall into the illusion that everything was fine, that we were fine. Because for now, in this fleeting moment, it was enough.

"Ugh," came Kayden's voice, cutting through our intimate moment. He strolled into the kitchen, clearly unimpressed, and leaned against the counter. "You both still going at it, huh?" With a dramatic sigh, he dragged a highchair from the counter and plopped down into it. His gaze flicked between me and Aiden, and there was something in his eyes that made me uneasy. I had a feeling he wasn't too thrilled about seeing me get warm and cozy with his dad. "Last night wasn't enough?"

"Kayden!" I balked, felt my cheeks burn with shame as I realized my sonheardme and his father having sex last night. We must have been very loud. Aiden just laughed at that, not embarrassed even a little. Instead, he kissed me passionately, a kiss that shouldn't be done in front of our kids.

"Quit it, you two," Chloe said, entering the kitchen and taking a seat next to her brother. "We're eating here."

I pushed myself away from Aiden, feeling my face flush with embarrassment as he laughed heartily at the situation. I quickly started distributing the breakfast onto plates, handing them to the kids with a sheepish smile.

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