Housewife Gone Wild

Chapter 22

In our six years of marriage, we’d only dined out for family holidays. Most nights we ate at home, though often interrupted by his endless phone calls. I’d cooked elaborate meals that went untouched.

Now that we had private servants preparing perfectly balanced dinners every night, he suddenly wanted to take me out.

I’d endured years of loneliness, disappointment, and the quiet heartbreak of constant rejection. Now it was his turn to taste that bitterness.

“Can’t. My plate’s full. Ask someone else.” I kept my eyes on my work, feigning concentration.

Jared went completely still. The polite smile froze on his face. He’d anticipated delight, not this offhand rejection.

“The work will still be there after dinner,” he said, with uncharacteristic patience.

“I’m not hungry.” I glanced up with a bland smile. “Had dessert earlier.”

Some of the tension left his posture when he realized this was about schedules, not rejection.

“I’ll head back for Yvonne then. Don’t work too late.” With that, he left without another word, and I returned to my files,

Jared said he needed to call a board meeting to decide on the appointment, but I knew it was just a formality.

He ruled the company with absolute authority. His competence left no room for challenges.

Our personal relationship blurred professional lines, but I believed that Jared could silence critics effortlessly.

It was 11 p.m. when I got home, arms full of documents. Jared had already tucked Yvonne in and was lounging on the sofa in his pajamas, sipping coffee.

his long legs. His piercing eyes fixed

make sense of some things,” I said flatly. I kicked off my shoes and headed upstairs,

a beat before slowly

I reached the bedroom, I grabbed my pajamas and

time–thirty minutes–and when I finally stepped out, he was

moment. But when he finally lay beside me and I reached out, he’d catch my wrist, push it away,

the vanity, I smoothed lotion over my skin, the scent curling around me. The woman in the mirror looked different now -her eyes held no trace of their old shadows, only a quiet radiance that made her seem

his voice. I’d taken longer than usual, and he wasn’t

Was he going to make the

outfits had been more deliberately feminine–silky blouses, curves accentuated. Men always noticed those things.

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sharply, clearly annoyed at the wait. The moment I settled in, he threw his book down, switched off the

turned toward me under the

against the curve of my waist

his wrist. “Too tired

arm tensed. “It’s been three months,” he

like that,” I muttered, not wanting to get

body and my desires. Normally, I’d be crawling out of my skin

want him at all anymore.

heavier. In the past, one word of refusal would have made him pull

only tightened around me. Angry as he clearly was, none of

voice was suddenly at my ear, his teeth grazing

always so proud and self–assured,