LOGINElena's Point Of View
The water was ice cold… blazing in its own cruel way, almost as if it were punishing me for feeling anything at all.
I stood beneath the stream, arms wrapped tightly around my chest, as if I could hold myself together with just that. My hair clung to my face, and my lips trembled, not from the cold, but from the weight pressing down on my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t even flinch as the water rushed over my skin like needles.
Silent tears slid down my cheeks and blended with the shower, indistinguishable. The cold helped. It numbed me just enough to keep the sobs at bay. Just enough to dull the ache… slightly.
I leaned my forehead against the tiled wall and closed my eyes.
“This is me… choosing my world.”
His words echoed again and again, ripping through me with every repetition. But then… was it because we hadn’t had sex in a while?
I blinked through the stream of water, a bitter laugh crawling its way up my throat. Maybe… maybe that was it. Men were physical creatures, weren’t they? Maybe this whole thing was just… lack of intimacy. A drought.
Maybe if I just reached out… He used to not be able to keep his hands off me. My body was his temple once, he told me that after our honeymoon, whispered it against my skin as he kissed every inch of me.
And maybe… just maybe… if I reminded him… There was still hope.
I shut off the tap with trembling fingers, letting the silence of the bathroom take over. My skin was goosebumped and pale, water still dripping from my hair. I wrapped the towel around myself slowly, like it was a ritual, like I needed every movement to count.
Then I walked to the bedroom.
The room was dim, the only source of light coming from the pale glow of his phone screen. He was lying on the bed, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other scrolling, eyes fixed, brows furrowed slightly.
I stood at the doorway, heart thudding like a war drum. I swallowed hard, then took a breath.
It always worked before. He always reached for me. Always. “Graham,” I called softly, stepping inside.
He didn’t look up.
“Graham,” I repeated, louder this time. Finally, his gaze lifted. I took one more step forward. And then… I let the towel fall.
It pooled at my feet like a soft whisper, and I stood there, bare, vulnerable, exposed in every possible way. My heart was racing so hard I thought I’d collapse. My hands were trembling, my knees weak, but I stayed still, holding his gaze, daring him to feel again.
For a fleeting moment… just a flicker, I saw it. Desire. The way his eyes darkened, the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, the pause in his breath.
‘Yes. Yes. There you are. My Graham. My husband.’
But then… He blinked. And it vanished. Like it never existed.
He turned his head, set his phone aside slowly, then sat up slightly, rubbing a hand over his face as if I’d just given him a problem to solve instead of an invitation.
“What are you doing, Elena?” he asked tiredly. “Get dressed.”
The words struck like a slap. My heart cracked open right then and there, and I felt the shame rush to my cheeks like fire.
But I refused to cry.
“You used to adore me,” I whispered, voice tight. “You used to worship me. My body. You used to look at me like I was the only woman in the world.”
He sighed and rubbed his temples. I took a step closer.
“What changed, Graham?” I demanded, eyes burning. “What happened to the man who couldn’t wait to get home to me? Who used to kiss me in every room, who used to sneak up behind me just to feel me against him?”
Another sigh. Long. Heavy. Resigned. “Elena,” he said, “You’re beautiful. You know that. I’ve always said you were beautiful.”
“Then what is it?” I choked out. “Do I not turn you on anymore? Do I disgust you?”
He looked up sharply. “No! It’s not that. You’re… God, you’re gorgeous. But I’m just not… I’m not in the mood. I’m not interested right now, okay?”
My lip trembled, and this time, I couldn’t stop the tears. They came, slow and steady, carving paths down my cheeks.
“Nothing I say or do will change your mind, will it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.
He didn’t respond. He just… looked away. And that silence? That nothing? It was worse than any harsh word he could have thrown at me.
I bent down quietly, picked up my towel, wrapped it around myself again.
Something inside me snapped, not with fury, but with clarity. A dull, cold clarity that terrified me.
“Since it’s an open marriage you want…” I said quietly, wiping a tear from my cheek, “Let’s have an open marriage.”
That made him turn back to me. His gaze met mine for a beat, expression unreadable. And then he said, “Good.” Just one word.
Good.
I nodded, heart in pieces.
Then I walked away, towel clenched tight in my fists, into the bathroom again, this time, not to cry. Not to freeze under water.
But to scream silently into a towel… so he wouldn’t hear me break.
**********
Three days later.
The rain hadn’t stopped. It had drizzled in the morning, poured like the heavens were grieving by afternoon, and now as evening rolled in, it tapped rhythmically against the windows like some mournful drumbeat.
I sat curled into the plush corner of our living room couch, a forgotten cup of tea lukewarm in my hands. The TV was on, but I couldn’t say what was playing. My eyes were locked on my phone screen, but I wasn’t really scrolling, just flicking mindlessly through reels of people laughing, loving, living.
Anything but feeling.
I kept waiting. Waiting for him to say it was a cruel joke. That he didn’t mean it. That it was the grief speaking. That the weight of not having a child was clouding his judgment.
I even imagined it.
He would walk in with those tired eyes of his, sit next to me, pull me into his arms and kiss my hair like he used to when I couldn’t sleep, whispering, "It’s just a dream, Elena… you’re still mine."
But nothing came.
Only silence. And then… the sound of keys jingling at the front door. I sat up slowly. My heartbeat quickened, hope sparking against reason.
The door opened with a casual push, and he stepped in.
But he wasn’t alone.
She came in after him. Tall. Elegant. Belly round and unmistakably pregnant. And behind them… the servants, two of them, carrying in suitcases and shopping bags.
My heart dropped so hard I could hear the thud echo inside my chest. “Graham…” I stood up, voice weak, almost afraid to speak. “What’s going on?”
He looked up and smiled like we were old friends catching up after years.
“Oh, Elena,” he said, as if surprised to see me standing there. “Good thing you’re here…”
“Spare me the long talks, Graham,” I snapped, my voice rising before I could stop it. My fists clenched. “What is she doing here?”
I already knew. God, I knew. But I needed to hear it. I needed him to say it. I needed it to burn all the way down.
He looked from me to her… her, with that smug little half-smile and one hand cradling her belly like a trophy, and then back to me.
He didn’t flinch.
Didn’t look ashamed. Didn’t even look sorry. “We’re together,” he said simply, brushing invisible lint from his coat. “She’s carrying my child.”
Elena's Point Of ViewThe second the words left Heather's mouth, it felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped directly over my head. My skin went entirely numb, and the small, lingering trace of conflict inside me froze instantly into solid glass. The familiar protective instinct I'd built over years of distance from our mother shattered, replaced by cold clarity. I cursed under my breath, my voice low and raw. "You're right, Heather," I said, closing my eyes against the wave of self-recrimination. "Damn it, you're completely right. I don't know why I didn't think of that immediately." I pressed my palm against my forehead, feeling the heat of shame creeping up my neck. The weight of my own naivety pressed down on me like a physical thing. "For a split second, I actually forgot who our mother is. I stupidly thought she might have changed because she's staring down the barrel of a casket. As if proximity to death could transform a person who'd spent decades perfecting her cruel
Elena's Point Of View"Sorry, but I'm not coming," I said, my voice cutting through her desperate wheezing like a blade through silk. I shifted my weight, leaning my hip against the edge of the mahogany desk. My fingers found my pen, twisting the cap off and on in a restless rhythm. Click. Click.The small sound anchored me, kept me from drowning in emotions I refused to acknowledge. "You weren't there for us when we actually needed a mother," I continued, each word measured and deliberate. "So why on earth should I come now just because it's convenient for your conscience?" A violent, wet cough rattled through the speaker, followed by the agonizingly slow sound of her trying to draw air back into her failing lungs. Each ragged breath felt like an accusation, a reminder of all the times I'd waited for her to come home, listening for footsteps that never came. I could picture her in that sterile hospital room, tubes snaking from her arms, machines beeping their mechanical sympathy.
Elena's Point Of ViewThe temperature in the room plummeted twenty degrees in a single, freezing second. My fingers tightened around the phone until the cheap plastic casing let out a small, desperate creak. Blood rushed past my ears in a loud, rhythmic thudding that drowned out the low hum of the office air conditioner. "What?" The word came out flat and dangerous as my voice dropped into a register I reserved for courtrooms and confrontations. My eyebrows pulled together, forming a deep frown as I leaned one hand heavily against the edge of my desk. The polished wood felt cool beneath my palm, grounding me in the present moment even as my past threatened to drag me under. A frantic, shaky breath came from the other end, but it wasn't her voice. Instead, I heard an older woman, completely out of breath and thoroughly panicked. "Elena? Oh thank god, you actually answered," the woman stammered. The chaotic sound of rolling hospital gurneys and beeping monitors blared through the ear
Elena's Point Of ViewWeeks had passed since the world watched Sinclair Global's pristine, multi-billion-dollar empire crack down the middle and begin sinking into the Texas dirt. Weeks since frantic news anchors, flashing red banners, and black government SUVs swarming their corporate headquarters dominated every conversation. And honestly? Everything had been so incredibly quiet and peaceful since then. I couldn't begin to describe how grateful I was for that stillness. It felt like emerging from a storm into unexpected sunshine. My days had taken on a rhythm that wasn't complicated, but it was exactly what I needed. Go to work, handle my business, come home, train with Jaxx until my lungs burned and my muscles ached, eat whatever ridiculous feast he'd either ordered or cooked, then sleep without looking over my shoulder. No paranoia. No fear. Just rest. Jaxx had even stubbornly insisted that the two of us do something completely fun every single day… whether it was a midnight dr
Elena's Point Of View I stared up at him, my breath catching as his thumb traced the edge of my jaw with deliberate slowness. The sheer weight of what he was implying made the room tilt beneath me. On the television screen behind him, red banners flashed in frantic succession while a news anchor spoke over live footage of Sinclair Global employees streaming out of the corporate headquarters, clutching cardboard boxes to their chests like life rafts. Some of them looked shell-shocked, faces pale and drawn. Others appeared angry, gesturing wildly as they spoke into their phones. The scene looked like the apocalypse for Graham's world, yet Jaxx sat here with the casual satisfaction of someone who'd just ordered his morning coffee exactly right. "Come on, Jaxx. Don't play with me right now," I said, my voice dropping into a low, breathless plea that I barely recognized as my own. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a question I desperately needed answered. I reached up, my
Elena's Point Of View The cool water of the shower had washed away the slick, sticky remnants of our chaotic session on the mahogany table, but my legs still trembled so badly I could barely maintain my balance against the tiled wall. Jaxx hadn't permitted me to do a single thing for myself. He'd carried me into the steam, washed my hair with a slow, almost agonizingly thorough gentleness that stood in complete contrast to the way he'd just ruined me, then carried me right back out. The tenderness felt almost surreal after the intensity we'd just shared. It was as if he'd flipped some internal switch, transforming from the dominant force who'd had me writhing and begging into this careful, attentive caretaker. The duality of him never ceased to catch me off guard. He didn't even let me reach for a towel. He dried my skin himself, his eyes dark and utterly possessive as he tracked the fresh, faint red marks his fingers and the leather straps had left behind. Each touch was rev
Graham's Point Of ViewThe sharp clink of metal on porcelain rang out louder than it should have, echoing across the thick silence of the dining room as I dropped my fork. My hand trembled slightly from the tension bubbling inside me, the sound louder in my ears than the hush that followed Elena’s
Elena's Point Of ViewMy fingers trembled as I braced myself against the sink, trying to breathe, trying to think… trying not to remember how it felt when his mouth was on me, when my body gave in, when I whimpered his name like a prayer I swore I’d never say again.The bathroom echoed with silence
Elena's Point Of ViewI didn’t even think.It was like my body acted before my brain could catch up. One second I was glaring hard at something Jaxx said… something ridiculous and shallow, and the next, out of the corner of my eye, I felt him.Graham.Tall. Brooding. Furious.That same furious glar
Elena's Point Of ViewA sharp, splitting pain thundered in my skull like drums from hell.“Mmmgh,” I groaned sharply, my voice hoarse, dry, like sandpaper scraping against wood. The light from the window sliced across my face with cruel sharpness, forcing my eyes shut.“Graham,” I mumbled in protes







