Chapter 3

Rhett

Closing our bedroom door after tucking in my wife, I made my way back to the kitchen to get the broom and dustpan to sweep up the glass in the bathroom.

"Is she alright, man?" Dominic asked as I reached for the broom that was tucked away on the side of the refrigerator.

"I don't know what happened. I've never seen her pass out this way before… Maybe I should have her schedule with her doctor tomorrow," I said as I turned back to head toward the bathroom. Dom followed me, his hands in his pockets.

Leaning on the doorframe of the bathroom while I swept up the glass, Dom sighed.

"Look, man. I know I'm far from a doctor, but do you think that maybe she's struggling mentally?"

"She would tell me if she was. Maybe something's wrong physically," I sighed, as I finished sweeping up the glass and emptying the dustpan into the bathroom trash can.

"I don't know, I'm just worried. I've known you guys for a long time, and the only time this has happened before was when I came over that night for the fight and I had to catch her before she hit the coffee table." Dom said, running his hand through his hair.

"Well, she was five whiskey sours deep. She's always been a bit of a lightweight."

Walking back to the kitchen, I put the broom away and reached for my beer I left on the table. Dom was still leaning on the doorframe to the bathroom, looking in the direction of our bedroom door. It doesn't take a genius to figure out he's into my wife.

But here's the kicker; I was secretly into him.

What kind of fucked up do we have to be for me to have this crush on my best friend, while he has a crush on my wife?

Want to know what's even more fucked up? I've dreamed of Dominic and Genevieve fucking in my bed while I watch. I've never come so hard in my life as I did in the shower that next morning…

I love Genevieve, I truly do. But we've been drifting apart; especially in these last few months. She desperately wants to start a family, but three years of trying naturally and about thirty grand in debt from IVF still has us at square one. And just tack on the guilt of wanting Dominic.

Ever since he came out to me when we graduated high school as bisexual, I've always had the lingering thought in the back of my mind: I wonder if he would want me like I want him.

"You okay, man?" Dom asked, pushing himself off the door frame and joining me in the kitchen.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry. I guess I got lost in my thoughts." I laughed it off, downing the rest of my beer in one sitting, the carbonation making my eyes water.

Grabbing two more beers from the fridge, I made my way back to the couch, preparing to drink myself to sleep so I could get the image of Dom's cock buried in my wife out of my head.

Following me to the living room, Dom sat on the other side of the couch with his beer in hand, resting his head against the backrest with a sigh.

"I've been working nonstop. I'm glad tomorrow is an off Friday," he said, taking a sip. "Want to watch that new horror movie that came out last week?"

"Hell yeah. I saw it load up onto our streaming service this morning." Picking up the remote, I navigated to the movie and hit play.

Dom kicked off his low-top Converse and sank into the couch, getting comfortable. I watched him intently as he brought his almost empty beer bottle to his lips, and all I could think about was how he would look with his face buried in Gen's pussy.

Fuck.

Shifting in my seat, trying to ignore my now hard cock pressing against the zipper in my jeans, I hopped up off the couch.

"Here, I'll grab some more." I reached for his now empty bottle, and his eyes subtly seemed to notice my bulge in my pants before handing me his bottle with a silent nod.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I thought as I tossed his empty bottle in the trash and opened the fridge.

Pulling a six-pack out that I left in the carrier, I opened one and downed it all at once. I released a groan as my eyes stung from the carbonation again.

I wonder if this would help with Gen and my… lackluster sex life. Maybe I should approach Dom and see what he thinks about my dream… Would he go for that? Would he be comfortable with me watching? The only way I would allow him to touch my wife is if I was there watching his every move, making sure Gen is okay.

If she is struggling mentally, would this make it worse? Would trying to bring Dom into the bedroom confuse her? Make her feel like I don't want her? She's been so depressed as a result of our failed attempts to get her pregnant. Maybe this would help both of us? Maybe I am too stupid to see the signs of her struggling…

"Everything okay, Rhett?" I whipped my body around to find Dom standing on the threshold between the kitchen and living room, his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, um... Just thinking…" I stammered.

"Yeah, I can see that," he chuckled. "Anything I can help with?"

"I don't know, man. I'm just… I'm worried about Gen. If something's wrong because I'm too dumb to see it…"

"Well, it's never too late, Rhett. She's struggling. Just stop and think about it for a second. How long has Gen wanted a baby?" Dom asked, reaching for a beer out of the carrier.

"She's talked about it since before we got married. Maybe five years or so?" I replied, closing the fridge and leaning my back on the door.

"How many miscarriages has she suffered through? The failed IVF? Her younger sister getting pregnant after trying for what… three months? I'm assuming that cunt of a woman she calls her mother has called her, expecting her to help plan a baby shower? Have you noticed how skinny Gen is?" Dom asked, crossing his arms, leaning on the wall.

"I just assumed she was trying to get healthier for another try at getting pregnant…" My eyes fell to the floor.

"All of that is a lot for even the strongest person to navigate. You've been so oblivious to her suffering, and now it's gotten so bad, she's fucking fainting," Dom said with a bit of bite in his tone.

I knew he was right, but I just couldn't accept it. Genevieve and I have been together a long time, and she always comes to me when she's hurting… Right?

"Look, forget it, alright? I'll talk to her in the morning." I didn't mean to sound as angry as I did, but I swiped the six-pack off of the table and made my way back to the living room to watch the movie.

"Alright, sure, Rhett. Sure." Dom sighed, following behind me.