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.

crossing his long legs. His piercing eyes fixed on me as he

some things,” I said flatly. I kicked off my shoes and headed upstairs, not in the mood

frozen for a beat before slowly

the bedroom, I grabbed

took my sweet time–thirty minutes–and when I finally stepped out, he

But when he finally lay beside me

mirror looked different now -her eyes held no trace of

done yet?” Jared called from the bed, impatience creeping into his

about sex. Was he going to make the first

blouses, curves accentuated. Men always noticed those things. He might not love me,

1/3

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

me under

fingers burning against the

wrist. “Too tired tonight,” I

tensed. “It’s been three months,”

that,” I muttered, not wanting to

and my desires. Normally, I’d be crawling out of my skin after three months without it, while he could

said. Truth was, I didn’t want him at all anymore. Jared used to be the one losing

word of refusal would

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

you?” Jared’s voice was suddenly at my ear,

laughed. Jared, always so proud and self–assured, was actually reduced to