Scandal 38 - In which the husband asks for three months

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Scandal 38 – In which the husband asks for three months

James cursed as he pushed the woman off him, shit, he didn’t know why there was a woman beside him touching his junk. For all he could remember was that he drove to the club pissed off with the whole damn world. No, he was pissed with himself.

Because everything his wife had told him tonight was true, she changed. He himself didn’t like the change he saw in her how could she of all people? It was all his damn fault that Cassandra wanted a divorce.

And damn him, he couldn’t even give her the one thing she wanted from him now. He was a selfish bastard. Cassandra was miserable but he couldn’t—wouldn’t— let her go.

“What’s wrong?” the woman asked trying to go back to his arms.

He pushed her away, “Go away.” he said drinking the scotch. He needed to do something; he needed to make his wife stay. To want to stay with him and be forever married.

He stood, he shouldn’t be here, had he not learn from the past mistakes that drinking to stupor wouldn't make it better? He needed to be sober, he needed to be with his wife, to show her that this time he was all in.

He pulled his wallet out, tossed a few hundred on the table, and walked out of the club, he called for a cab, it wouldn’t do if he got pulled over for a DUI.

When he returned to their suites, the room was dimly lit and Cassandra was already sleeping. He went to the bathroom and showered. After his shower, he put on some sleeping clothes and went straight to bed.

Cassandra’s back was on him, he pulled her closer to him and instinctively she turned toward him and wrapped her arms and legs all over him, he did the same and held her tighter burrowing his face on her hair. By Jove, she smelled divine.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured softly.

And for the first time in a while he slept peacefully with his wife in his arms.

***

James awoke in the same position he slept in, he looked at Cassandra who was still sleeping peacefully, God, she looked beautiful and so, so fragile. He traced her face with the tip of his fingers, Cassandra murmured something incoherently and he chuckled softly.

Her eyes flutter open and she blinked twice, “James?”

He smiled at her, “Morning wife.” and kissed her in the forehead, “Do you want to call for room service or do you want to go out for breakfast?”

“Room service.” She said, she wiggled out of his hold and he let her, she jumped off the bed, grabbed the silk robe in the armchair and put it on. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

He sat up, grabbed the phone and dialed for room service, “I paid for the suite.” He shrugged, and then when the concierge answered, he ordered their breakfast.

The Shackled WifeUnde poveștirile trăiesc. Descoperă acum