The Night She Chose
Margaret stood in front of the mirror, her fingers smoothing the soft fabric of her dress. It clung to her in all the right places, accentuating curves she'd never flaunted. The hem grazed her mid-thigh, shorter than anything she would have worn a year ago. But things had changed, and so had she.
"Ladies' night again?" her husband, Mark, asked casually from the living room, his eyes glued to the game on TV. His voice lacked the curiosity of a man who still cared about the details, as though her evenings out with friends had become as routine as his quiet nights in.
"Yeah," Margaret replied, but her voice held a tremor. She had mastered appearing nonchalantly, but her nerves betrayed her tonight.
The truth was, she wasn't going to meet her friends. They hadn't seen her in weeks. Instead, Margaret was headed to Edward's house--her lover's. It had started innocently, as these things often do, but now her secret life had grown intoxicating. The stolen moments and the rush of passion were all too much to resist.
She reached for her handbag and checked her reflection one last time. The dress was a deep crimson, a color she'd never worn before Edward. He liked it when she wore bold colors and tight fabrics. He'd said as much the last time they met, his hands tracing the seams of her clothing as if imagining them disappearing.
Each time she saw him, her wardrobe became bolder. Tonight, she wore stilettos with straps that wrapped around her ankles, adding height and confidence. Her lipstick matched the dress--fiery and daring.
"I might be late," she called out to Mark as she headed toward the door. He mumbled something indistinct, never tearing his eyes from the screen. The pang of guilt she once felt in moments like these had dulled over time, replaced by an odd sense of relief. Mark wasn't paying attention, not to her. He hadn't in a long time.
As Margaret drove through the city streets, she couldn't stop thinking about Luke. His texts were still fresh in her mind, the playful teasing and the promises of what tonight would bring. She felt alive with him in a way she hadn't in years, as if rediscovering a part of herself that had long been buried under the mundane rhythms of married life.
When she arrived at Edward's house, she paused before knocking. Her heart raced, the thrill of the affair pulsing through her veins. He opened the door with a grin, his eyes roaming over her like a man who already knew the ending to a story they were both writing.
"You look incredible," he said, pulling her inside without another word. The door closed behind them with a soft click, and the world outside ceased to exist.
Immediately upon entering, Edward guided her to her knees in true submissive fashion. He enjoyed another man's wife submitting to him. His pants jumped with excitement. Edward produced a collar and fashioned it around Margret's neck. it said OWNED in big letters.
