She hesitated but got up anyway, heading downstairs. Soon, the sound of eggs sizzling filled the air, the scrape of a knife against the cutting board.
From the outside, everything seemed normal. But the fresh scratches on her neck and the dark red marks on her arms told another story.
By the time she came back upstairs, she was dressed, makeup light but perfect. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Don't go to work today. Just rest.”
Years ago, when her business was just starting out, the audit reports had errors. She barely slept, barely ate. The stress wore her down. That company was everything to her and I couldn’t just stand by and watch.
So I took the fall. Became the guy who "saved" everything—the big hero, the perfect fiancé. Now that the company was running smoothly, I had no reason to go back. But that wasn’t why she wanted me to stay home.
A text had popped up on her phone that morning. [I'm coming to see you today. Brought you a love lunch box, yours truly.]
Attached were a few pictures—flirty, suggestive and definitely not work-related. Of course, she definitely didn’t want me showing up.
I nodded. “Alright. I’ll stay home.”
She smiled, satisfied, grabbed her bag and walked out the door. And yet, for some reason, I still found myself getting into my car and driving after her.
It took me three minutes to pull into the underground garage. Three minutes too long.
By the time I got there, I saw them; Yvonne and some guy in a suit. She wasn’t pushing him away. If anything, she was leaning in.
His hands were on her, familiar, possessive. Her eyes never left him, not even for a second. Then he stopped, looking down at her with a smirk. “Do you swear to me? You really didn’t touch him?”
Yvonne laughed, fingers running through his hair. “Why would I? He’s disgusting after coming out of prison. Why would I want to? Besides…” She trailed a finger down his tie, eyes playful. “Don’t I have you?”
And just like that, she kissed him. Slow. Deep. Like she meant it, like there was nothing else matter in her world now.
When she finally pulled away, she sighed, glancing at her watch. “Ugh, I have to go to work.”
Then, as if it was an afterthought, she pushed him back against the hood of the car, tilting his chin up. “From now on, you’re my secretary. Your desk will be in my office.”