Page 15 of Opening It Up

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Whew, it was still there, the motto he’d had engraved on it glinting at me.

‘Bind me to thee’

I almost turned away, because I didn’t want to read the whole thing, didn’t want to remember our wedding.

But wait, what was that?

I looked closer.

It appeared there was something on the tips of his long, strong tanned fingers.

Glitter.

And lots of it, too. Like he’d been smearing his fingers in it.

What in the world? And then I remembered.

Makayla.

Her sleek beautiful hair, sexy clothes, the flirty banter.

The sparkling eyeshadow, the way even I had noticed that her thighs shimmered in the light.

My husband had been smearing his hands all over her goddamn body glitter and brought it home with him.

With a start, I jerked away from him and rolled out of bed.

No.

He’d said the open marriage was about more than just one woman. It wasn’t a way to have sex with her without guilt.

Harley had lied.

I suddenly felt furious.

Maybe I wasn’t going to just wait it out.

Maybe I was going to participate in this open marriage, too.

I went into the bathroom and looked at myself. Old-ass sweats, frizzy hair, shirt looking like it had been through several sticky slime experiments.

Goodbye to that.

Game on then.

I was so pissed I actually took the time to fix my hair, and I decided that even though I was only teaching Gentle Yoga today, I would leave it down around my shoulders in these riotous strawberry curls.

“You look so beautiful,” Harley said as we got in the car after dropping the boys off at school, but I was in no mood for him today.

“I heard your podcast,” I said coldly. “The next time you want to announce you’re bored of me, I would appreciate a heads-up first. Instead of having to learn it along with all your other listeners.”

Harley looked shocked, and he began to sputter inarticulately.

“I’m not—that wasn’t—that wasn’t what I meant. I didn’t mean for that to go live.”

“I see,” I said.

“No, really,” Harley protested as he started down the road. “I’m so embarrassed you heard that. Of course, I’m not bored of you, darling.”

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