Page 29 of Say You Love Me

“Play with yourself,” I utter, my eyes transfixed by the deepening moisture pooling between her legs. She starts to pull down her stockings but I bark out my refusal and instead, she slides her hand under the waistband. From this angle, I can only just see the movement of her fingers as she plays with her clit. I kick her legs further apart and fall to my knees, her glorious backside only inches from my face.

I inhale deeply, breathing in the musky scent of her and groan when she slides a finger into herself. I become fixated on the movement until it’s no longer her finger sliding in and out. It’s one of the leering men from the cinema. I picture his face, taut with rapture as he fingers my wife. Rage rushes through me as sighs and groans fall from her mouth as he pleasures her.

I’m confused, furious, and trembling with lustful excitement. I let go of myself long enough to rip her stockings, forming a hole for me to fuck her. And then I’m inside, thrusting with restless abandon.

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, I jerk her head backward and catch a glimpse of us in the mirror on the wall across the room. Her face is flushed with rapture. Mine is twisted in something that resembles a mixture of lust and rage. I tear at her shirt and shove down the cups of her bra, exposing her breasts. They ripple with each thrust so I fuck her harder just to see them bounce. Reaching around, I grab one roughly, squeezing and pulling, pinching and crushing.

She catches my eye in the mirror and smiles in a way that antagonizes me. I pull her hair hard and her head snaps back. I fuck her harder, deeper and then I pull out, letting my cum splatter over her ass. It gets caught in the mess of her stockings.

I feel disgusting afterward. I stumble back against the wall as I shove my spent cock back inside my jeans. Finity is still folded over the couch, her cum-covered ass taunting me.

“I’m taking the job,” I spit out, my tone filled with venom.

Finity stands. She pulls down her skirt, not caring when it smears the ribbons of white down her legs and starts to do up the buttons of her shirt. Her left breast is red and has welts where my fingers dug into the flesh. Her fingers tremble, and a wave of guilt washes over me. When she finally looks up, there’s a look on her face I can’t quite decipher. She’s smiling but she isn’t. Her eyes are burning with intensity, but at the same time, they are blank, empty.

Shame fills me. “Finity—”

“I need a shower,” she says brushing past me.

Afterward, she doesn’t say a word. We don’t talk about the job offer again, she just accepts it as though she agreed to it. She never shows excitement about the move to my hometown, but she doesn’t protest either.

We don’t talk about the way I fucked her that night, but every now and again, I catch her with that same look in her eyes, the one that burns with cold flames.

chapter thirteen

NOW

~

FINITY

“He must have got caught up at work and forgot to call, that’s all.” Lori covers my hand with her own and gives me an apologetic smile. She pats my hand gently, as though the affection will somehow lessen the fact that Hudson isn’t here, that he forgot we had dinner plans with his parents.

I stab my spoon into the apple crumble. It’s one of Lori’s signature dishes and usually I’d be digging into it with gusto, but each mouthful sits heavily in my stomach, almost making me feel nauseous.

Lori pats my hand again. She’s mistaking my bad mood for being about Hudson. It’s not. Well, it is, but not in the way she thinks. I don’t care that he didn’t turn up for dinner. I’m curious as to why he didn’t, but I don’t care. If he were here, he’d just be ignoring me anyway. We’d be sitting next to each other, but he’d still be miles away.

I had lunch with Rylee today. He’d been easy enough to find on social media and jumped at the chance to meet up. He drove all the way from the city just to have lunch with me.

I needed someone to talk to, someone who would listen, who would care. Someone who didn’t look at me with hatred or pity. I wanted that person to be Hudson, but it was like the more time we spent together, the further away he pulled. Part of me wondered why he bothered at all. He should just give up. Start again with someone new. Someone who wasn’t broken.

The thought terrified me.

At first it had been great catching up with Rylee. He listened so intently, he chatted easily and had me laughing with the stories he told of the people he lived with. There were seven of them all in one house. It made for some entertaining tales. Goodness knows how true they were, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was, for a moment, I forgot about what happened. I’d forgotten that I was the girl who lost everything. I forgot that my husband could barely stand to look at me.

I knew Rylee was fond of me, it was clear at the wellness center. But back then, he’d never made a move. Never touched me in any way more than a friendly hug when I was feeling down. But this time, he reached across and covered my hand with his own. And even though it was the same motion Lori had done only seconds ago, it didn’t feel the same. He’d looked at me in a way that made his intentions clear. And I hesitated. For a moment, I’d allowed myself to wonder what it would be like if I left my hand there, if I’d hooked my thumb around his and looked back at him with the same longing as he was looking at me.

Would he have tried to kiss me?

Would I have let him?

I know that I wouldn’t. I love Hudson too much. I couldn’t even leave my hand under Rylee’s for longer than a few seconds, but just for a moment, I’d let my mind wander and now I felt guilty for it. I was scared that Hudson would look at me and he’d know. But I was more scared that he would look at me, he’d know, and he wouldn’t care.

It’s dark by the time I walk home. Lance offered to drive me, but I told him I needed the fresh air. Hudson never turned up at his parents so I’m surprised when I get home to find the house empty. None of the lights are on. Hudson’s car isn’t in the driveway and his shoes aren’t at the front door. I try calling him but it goes straight to voicemail. I’m not ready to sleep yet, so after sneaking outside to inhale the last of the cigarettes I stole from Liam, I flop myself down on the couch with a bottle of wine and lose myself in the blue glow of the television.

When the door slams, it wakes me. I get up slowly from the couch, stretching my neck, trying to relieve the stiffness from the awkward angle I fell asleep in, and walk through into the hallway. Hudson is attempting to remove his shoes, swaying heavily as he stands on one foot.

“Where have you been?” I cross my arms over my chest.

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