[AUTHOR'S NOTE]
I recently got a disturbing message about self-harm in response to my work. Please note that this is a FANTASY. My work often features cheating, betrayal, uneven dynamic roles, and sexism - none of which I condone in real life at all. If you find yourself consuming my work or any form of media without the necessary mental precautions, please review yourself and enact them. If you're having trouble separating yourself from stuff like that commentator, please get help.
If possible, leave comments and rate this work for me to better navigate through my amateurish skills and create better works. I read them all. That said, hope this is your thing. Enjoy!
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It all started three years ago--when my husband was offered a great opportunity at this firm. It paid almost three times his salary so taking it was almost a sure-deal. My husband and I moved to another state, and we were pretty happy. It felt like we were on a riskier honeymoon after all these years. Uprooting our lives as well as our young and impressionable teenagers, Sarah and Louise, from the neighborhood they grew up in weren't minor things to do, however. New house, new neighbors, new state, new everything. It was bound to drive both of my children a little bit mad. But whatever troubles we had along our way, I countered with everything I had in spirit. As for my husband and I?
We were pretty great.
Despite the anxiety, it was exhilarating. Our passion for each other was rekindled. We were as intimate as we were again during our first years of marriage. I felt so close to him. I even started to be more involved with his work.
That's where I met Matt, my husband's work partner. Philip left some pretty important files at home and I had to drop them off on an afternoon.
I never told Philip, but I never liked him. I saw the way he stared at me whenever my husband wasn't paying attention. He had the type of gaze you'd feel as if it were licking the surface of your skin. He was flirty too.
Other than that, he seemed nice, if not somewhat rude--which is why I found myself constantly at edge. It showed how good he was at hiding things, and that was never a good trait on men in my experience.
Thankfully, we never hung out with him or accepted any of his invitations because my husband shared the same feelings, though for a different reason.
Philip hated him because he was an arrogant, stuck-up, son of a bitch with life handed to him on a silver platter. You see, Matt was your typical guy born with a golden spoon. He was handsome, well-dressed, charming, fit. Unfortunately, the negative connotations to such also applied to him; he was rude, privileged, lazy, and mostly self-aware with all of it.
The problem was, he owns it.
Matt did nothing to change his mistakes or shortcomings--a trait very much unlike my husband.
Philip was a self-made man. Whatever weaknesses he had in his strings, he made sure to fine-tune. It's that mature quality that attracted me to him during our college days. It was also the very same quality that made me think, "Oh. I'm going to marry this man," for the first time.
You could see why the two different men fought all the time. The stories my husband told me about Matt only served to worsen my opinion of him. My husband had to clean up after him several times a week. It made every anniversary of ours since then action-packed with stress, deadlines, and frustration. It took five years of tragic cancellations and untimely romantic dinners for me to finally decide taking matters into my own hands.
Eight days before my 16th anniversary with my husband, I went to my husband's office to personally ask Matt to cover his shift.
Sometimes, I wonder what my life would be like if I didn't follow through it.
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When I woke up with a start, I knew instinctually that I slept in a little bit later than usual. The first thing I needed to do was to wake my husband up. As I looked beside me, I realized I didn't need to. Philip was already wide awake, staring at our hands, which were holding each other as he hugged me.
"Philip, what time's your flight again?"
He checked his timetable before answering. I looked at our alarm.
"Fuck! You've got about three hours before departure time. Sweetie, you need to leave. What did I tell you about being this late for flights?" I pushed his arms off me and lectured.
"I know, I know. I just wanted to hug you for a little while longer," he said cheekily.
"Get up and take a bath. I'm going to drive you."
Philip got up with a hearty chuckle. I rolled my eyes at him before checking on the kids. They had classes this afternoon, so they were awake.
"Morning, kids."
My daughter Louise was eating toast while studying. Sarah was, as usual, doing her hair and make-up. They grew up to be very different people, despite being literally inseparable as kids. Moving houses made them a lot more distant. To each other and to us.
Sometimes I wonder if we had really made the right choice moving here.
"Studying for a test, baby?" I asked Louise.
"Biology. It's pretty complicated," she replied, never taking her eyes off the book.
"I see. What about you, Sarah? What do you have going for today?"
She turned to me and asked, "My friends were thinking of drinking after class today since there's nothing scheduled tomorrow. Can I go?"
"Oh, which friends are going?"
"You know, the usual; Jenna, Lara, Haydn. Brian and Gregory are coming too, along with Ethan, his friend Diego, and his distant cousin who's visiting town, Hana."
Jenna and Lara are her best friends. Excluding Hana, the other four were men. My brows furrowed.
"That's an awful number of guys. You sure you can trust them?"
The older sister shook her hand innocently and asserted, "They're all just friends, Mom. You know Brian. He's the nice guy from the basketball team."
"Yep! Totally not an orgy," Louise muttered.
Sarah immediately glared at her and yelled, "Oh, my god. Shut the fuck up! I swear, you're such a dork." Louise shrugged her shoulders in provocation before raising her middle finger at Sarah.
"Louise!" I shot her a look of disapproval.
Of course, at the same time, I was anxious about Sarah. I'm not a prude. Granted, I wasn't actively sexual as a teenager or even now with my husband, but I don't criticize women who sleep around. Sarah was an adult. A beautiful 20 year-old college woman who should know what she's getting herself into.
But four jock men, and three attractive girls drinking together? It would be suspicious if nothing at all were happening. Knowing how extreme modern men's fantasies can get, I was worried for my daughter's safety.
Sarah seemed to have read my expression and insisted, "Mom, nothing bad is happening. We're just going to drink at Jenna's place."
I stared at her. I couldn't tell at all if she were lying or telling the truth.
But I didn't display my doubts on the surface. Doing so would do nothing but push her away.
Plus, even if it really was an orgy, so what? As long as she was being safe, then it was fine. Besides, I've known Jenna for a long time. That girl had no vices. As long as she's there, nothing would probably happen.
