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.

setting his coffee cup aside and crossing his long legs.

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

frozen for a beat before slowly following

I grabbed my pajamas and ducked into the

stepped out, he was propped against the

familiarity of it stung. There’d been nights I’d waited for him, aching for this very moment. But when he finally lay beside me and I reached out, he’d catch my wrist, push it away, and murmur, “Not

woman in the mirror looked different now -her eyes held no trace

impatience creeping into his voice. I’d taken longer than usual,

thinking about sex. Was

those things. He might not love me, but

1/3

at the wait. The moment I

turned toward me under the

against the curve of my waist

his wrist. “Too tired tonight,”

“It’s been three months,”

muttered, not wanting to get

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

at all anymore. Jared used to be the

one word of refusal would have

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

was suddenly at my ear, his teeth grazing my

proud and self–assured, was