Chapter 4

-Alison-

I surveyed the options in my room for my parents' party. It was a white party, yet I found myself unable to settle on what to wear for tomorrow's event. So, instead, I indulged in a private fashion show for myself. Slipping into a long-sleeved white dress that fell gracefully to my knees, I then gathered my hair into an elegant updo, turning slightly to appraise the view in the mirror. Adorning myself with a necklace from my collection, I turned once more, scrutinizing if this attire was fitting. Yet, despite my efforts, indecision lingered, prompting me to absentmindedly twirl the necklace around my fingers.

As I played with the jewelry, a dark thought crept into my mind. Experimentally, I twisted the chain around my neck until it snugly encircled my throat. An immediate pulsating sensation surged between my legs, and I watched as my complexion flushed with arousal. Recalling how Jared had once employed a similar gesture, I tugged lightly on the chain, though the sensation lacked his trademark ferocity. Still, it ignited a deep ache within me. Unable to resist, I slid my hand beneath the fabric of my dress, craving the touch of my own fingertips. I couldn't fathom having ever been so aroused by something so simple. Yet, it wasn't just physical gratification I sought. It was the potent allure of Jared's dominance, his ability to render me completely at his mercy, igniting a tumult of emotions that both repelled and enraptured me.

My hand delved further beneath my dress, heightening my excitement, as I tugged harder on the necklace, indifferent to the risk of it breaking. Lost in the throes of desire, the value of the chain seemed inconsequential compared to the urgency of my need. I smiled darkly as I ventured higher, consumed by a yearning more intense than ever, until a sound from the bedroom interrupted my reverie.

My hand swiftly retreated from beneath my dress as Warren appeared in the doorway, offering me a cautious smile. The sight of him, however, extinguished the warm pulse of arousal, leaving an icy chill in its wake.

"You look beautiful," he remarked.

"Thank you, but I can't decide," I confessed, unfastening the necklace and stowing it away before unzipping my dress and heading to hang it up.

I began scouring for another outfit option, my mind muddled with indecision, when I sensed Warren approaching from behind. His hands landed on my bare hips, but I swiftly pushed them away, turning to face him with a glare.

"Have you managed to crush the rumors?" I demanded.

He sighed, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I'm working on it. But we still need to attend this party together. If I can't even touch you, how do you expect us to convince people that everything is fine?"

"Does it look fine, Warren?" I countered, crossing my arms over my chest. Clad only in my panties and bra, I cared little about being partially exposed at that moment. If he desired reconciliation, he would need to exert more effort.

"I know it doesn't, but I'm trying," he insisted.

"You could just admit it's all fabricated. People would believe you," I suggested.

"If I acknowledge it, I'm confirming its reality," he countered.

"No, you're avoiding addressing it because it's uncomfortable. Your silence only fuels the speculation. Why else wouldn't you confront it?" I pointed out, frustration seeping into my tone as I groaned and ran my hands through my hair. "And once again, I'm the one helping you!"

With a determined stride, I pushed past him, retreating to the bedroom, resenting the relentless burden of taking control of the situation. Warren needed to resolve this issue himself, or our marriage would never weather the storm. However, as I entered the bedroom, he seized my arm, forcibly turning me to face him.

"Could you stop avoiding me?" he exclaimed.

"No, I don't need to converse with you. I don't need to be in your presence. You've hurt me enough, and if you want me to be your partner again, prove to me that I still have one in you," I retorted.

"Aren't I making an effort?" he protested.

"Are you truly?" I challenged.

He sighed, releasing his grip on my arm as he took a small step closer to me, but I instinctively backed away, a gesture he noticed with a glance downward.

"Are you… scared of me?" he whispered, his tone tinged with hurt.

"I just don't like when people crowd me," I lied, turning my head away.

He reached out, attempting to cup my cheek, but I pushed his hand back.

"I'm trying, Alison," he insisted. "But for this to work between us again, it can't be me constantly pleading for your forgiveness. That's not a partnership."

"And what would you know about that?" I challenged, turning to face him squarely. "Who has put in the effort? Who has remained loyal to whom? Tell me that, Warren. Show me you understand who has worked to uphold this marriage!"

"I know you have!" he yelled. "But don't you think I felt the pressure too? Constantly hearing those subtle jabs about my wife's inability to conceive. Your infertility raised doubts about my own fertility."

I let out a disbelieving laugh as I regarded my husband. "And we can't have that, can we?" I snarled, closing the distance between us until our chests nearly touched. "Because to you, marriage isn't about standing together, is it? It's merely about having a wife who reflects well on you."

"That's not what I meant—"

"It's what you implied," I interrupted, my voice seething with frustration. "If you truly cared about me, Warren, if you saw me as your partner, you wouldn't reduce my worth to my ability to bear children. You would see me as a person who brings joy and value to your life simply by being myself. You used to love me for who I was, but now you'd rather heed the opinions of your family, who see me as deficient because I can't conceive. You seek solace from others, hoping it will distract you from what I can't provide. But let me ask you this, Warren: are you truly happy?"

"W-What?" he stammered, taken aback by my question.

"Are you happy? Did all those other women help you? Did it somehow ease the burdens you faced, burdens that had nothing to do with my inability to carry a child? I'm your wife, Warren. I was prepared to stand by you through thick and thin, but you betrayed that loyalty because it was so easy, wasn't it?" I spat out.

"Easy?" he questioned, a hint of confusion in his voice.

"Easy to succumb to temptation," I clarified. "Instead of facing our challenges together, you chose to turn against me. And now you expect me to simply forgive you and return to being a dutiful wife? No, Warren. You had me, but you lost me. Now it's up to you to decide if you're willing to put in the effort to win me back. So, do you?"

We remained locked in close proximity, our breaths quickening with the intensity of our exchange. Warren seemed to scrutinize my eyes, likely attempting to gauge the sincerity of my words, the depth of my resolve not to forgive him. I knew he held onto a glimmer of hope that I would relent once more, salvaging his image from ruin, but this time, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't continue being the one who rescued him, not when it meant sacrificing my own well-being. I needed to put a stop to it, to save myself from being dragged down with him.

"I suppose that's a no," I sighed, averting my gaze. Yet Warren reached up, his hands gently framing my face, forcing me to meet his eyes.

"You're right," he conceded, surprising me with his admission. "I tried to escape, to find solace elsewhere, even if only for fleeting moments. But I know who has stood by me. I know the sacrifices you've made for me, Alison. I don't discount your strength, and I do love you. I want you back, and I promise to earn your respect again."

He drew me close, his lips meeting mine, and I felt a flicker of the old spark reignite, the one I once held for him. But was it sufficient? He didn't seek further confirmation. Drawing back, he offered a small smile before tracing my neck with his thumb, his touch evoking conflicting emotions within me. For a moment, I entertained the notion of releasing my anger, of letting go, so I seized him, pulling him back to me. He lifted me onto the bed, and I began unbuttoning his shirt.

"You're not forgiven," I gasped against his lips.

"I know. It's just the beginning," he whispered before trailing his hand down my body and into my panties. A startled cry escaped me as, for the first time in a long while, he tended to my desires before his own. I arched against his touch, unable to continue undressing him. Instead, my hands clenched his shirt as he brought me to climax, easing the intense anger I had felt moments ago. Drawing me closer, he kissed me fervently, and I assisted him in discarding his clothes.

He tossed the garments aside before I rolled us over, straddling him. Warren's hands settled on my hips as I lowered myself onto him, and we both gasped at the long-awaited connection. Though it had been some time since we were together, as I found a steady rhythm that promised another climax, my mind drifted to something entirely different. I wasn't riding Warren. It was Jared I envisioned. I forced my eyes open, attempting to dispel the intrusive image as I leaned in to kiss Warren once more, but it lacked the same fervor.

I despised Jared's kisses, but despite this, I yearned for his touch, his lips trailing across my skin. Warren's hands slid lower, his fingers brushing over the initials on my inner thigh.

"What's this?" he panted, his breath warm against my skin.

He attempted to pull away to inspect, but I quickened my pace, focusing on bringing him pleasure while capturing his lips in another kiss.

"Just a minor cut," I murmured. "It's nothing."

Yet, the knowledge of Jared's initials etched on my skin while I rode my husband ignited a sinister sense of satisfaction within me. Another had claimed my body as theirs while I rode Warren's cock. The notion sent me spiraling, indulging in the wrongness of it all, heightening my pleasure. I cried out against Warren, his grip tightening on my thighs as he too reached his peak. But if he believed this act brought us closer, he was mistaken. I was simply in need, and he happened to be there. Who was using whom now?