My Dark Obsession: My Brother's Best Friends

Chapter 2: Cora

“I’m sorry,” I said, leaning back in my chair, my heart hammering against my ribs. I stared at James, trying to process the words that had just come out of his mouth. “You what?”

He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in a way that made it seem like saying those words physically pained him. As if he was the one hurting right now. “I want to open up our marriage.”

My fingers curled around the stem of my wine glass, tightening until my knuckles turned white.

“What does that mean?” I asked, my brows furrowing as I studied his face.

I knew how I looked. My expression, my posture—I could feel the tension radiating off me. When I got pissed off, it was obvious. And right now, I could feel the anger creeping up my spine like a fire I couldn’t control.

But beyond the anger, there was something deeper. A sickening knot twisting in my stomach.

“It means,” he said, clearing his throat and shifting slightly in his seat, “that I think we should be allowed to explore what’s out there. Sexually.”

My breath hitched. I blinked, feeling like I had been doused in ice water.

“Am I not satisfying you?” The words slipped from my lips before I could stop them, my voice trembling as I felt my heart splitting open in my chest.

His eyes darted away, landing somewhere on the table. “Of course you are,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “But what if we’re blinded by each other? What if there’s something we don’t know we want—something we’d never consider unless we had the chance to experience it?”

A cold shiver ran down my spine. “What is it you want?” I asked, my voice sharp. “Is this about a threesome? Do you want to try roleplay?”

He hesitated for half a second before c*****g a brow at me. “Would you do that?” he asked. “Have a threesome?”

I looked down, my hands rubbing against each other, my nails digging into my own skin.

No.

That was the answer echoing in my mind.

I could never have a threesome. I wasn’t stupid. I knew James wasn’t saying this because he wanted another man in bed with us. This was about another woman. He wanted to touch someone else, be touched by someone else. Just the thought of it made my stomach twist so violently I thought I might be sick.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice cracking on the last word. It felt like my entire world was crumbling around me, the foundation of my marriage cracking beneath my feet.

I had thought we were moving forward. I thought we were closing in on having children together. I thought we were happy. Weren’t we?

“I’m not doing this to hurt you, babe,” he said, his voice dipping into something soft. Something that almost sounded condescending.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “It feels like it,” I gritted out, looking away as the first tear slipped down my cheek.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m doing this because I don’t want us to look back in fifty years and regret anything,” he explained.

A dry, bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “So you wanna go out and f**k a bunch of women, is that what this is?!” My voice rose, vibrating with raw emotion.

James flinched across the table.

“Cora, baby, please, calm down,” he said, his voice placating.

“I will not f*****g calm down! This is disgusting, James. How can you do this to me?” My hands shook as I shoved my chair back, the legs scraping loudly against the hardwood.

I needed to move. I needed to breathe.

I walked toward the kitchen counter, gripping it as I stared down at the cool surface. My chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, my thoughts spinning in a chaotic storm.

My marriage was important to me. James was important to me.

But right now, it felt like I wasn’t important to him.

I could refuse. I could put my foot down and tell him no, tell him this wasn’t happening. But then what? Would I just be waiting for the resentment to build in him? Would he eventually leave me for it?

Or I could say yes. Accept it. Live with the knowledge that my husband was sleeping with other women and just hope that when it was all over, he’d still want me.

I turned back toward him, my arms crossing over my chest. My throat burned, my hands still trembling at my sides.

“Lots of people do it, babe, I promise,” he said, his tone almost casual now, as if he was explaining a new diet trend instead of asking to sleep with other women. “It’s not unusual at all.”

I let out a slow breath, my jaw tightening. “How long?”

James blinked. “What?”

“For how long, James?” I repeated, my voice sharper this time. “How much time do you need to sleep with other women behind my back?”

His face fell. His eyes darted away from mine, guilt flashing across his expression. For the first time tonight, he actually looked ashamed.

“I don’t know, okay?” he finally said, exhaling sharply. “I just… I can’t stop wondering. What if there’s something out there we’ve never tried? What if we’re missing out on something we’d love?”

I turned away again, my hands pressing against my face as tears started streaming freely down my cheeks.

He wanted to try something. Something that wasn’t me.

“Do you still love me?” I whispered. “Or is this just a divorce waiting to happen?”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Then I heard his chair scrape against the floor. A second later, I felt his presence behind me.

“I do love you, Cora,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “There’s no doubt in my mind about that. I want to be with you. I want to support you, be there for you, grow old with you. You are the woman I want to have kids with. You are the person I see myself spending my life with.”

I sniffled, wiping at my face.

“This is not a divorce,” he murmured.

I squeezed my eyes shut. “I can’t live my life constantly worrying that if I come home early, you’ll be in bed with someone else, James. I can’t do that.”

He stepped closer, his hands settling gently on my upper arms. “Of course not. I would never do that to you,” he reassured me, his grip firm. “This would be something we agree on. We’d set boundaries, we’d make rules. It would be for us, not for anyone else. I swear, babe, I’m not doing this to hurt you.”

I inhaled sharply, my whole body trembling beneath his touch.

I had to save my marriage.

I had to fix this before I lost him.

I had spent eight years loving him. Eight years thinking we were building a life together. I couldn’t let that all fall apart now.

“Okay,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut.

James stilled. “What did you say?” he asked, his voice tinged with genuine surprise.

“Okay, James,” I sniffed, my voice barely above a whisper. I forced myself to meet his eyes, even though everything in me wanted to look away, to pretend this wasn’t happening. “If this is what you need, then we should do it.”

His entire face lit up, his brown eyes shining with happiness. It was as if I had just handed him the greatest gift in the world. And that only made it hurt more.

It felt like he was standing right in front of me, stabbing me over and over with a knife, watching as I bled, completely oblivious to my pain.

“We shouldn’t rush into this, okay?” he said, his voice soft, as if he was worried he might startle me. He reached out slightly, but thought better of it. “Let’s sit down and talk about some rules we might want, and then we can both take some time to think about it, okay?”

I barely nodded, my throat so tight I thought I might choke.

Reaching for my wine, I downed what was left in a single, desperate gulp, hoping it would grant me even an ounce of strength.

“Here,” James said, taking the empty glass from my trembling fingers. “Let me get you another.”

He disappeared into the kitchen for a few seconds, and when he returned, he set another full glass in front of me before sliding back into his chair.

He looked like a kid on Christmas morning. Excited. Thrilled. Impatient.

Like he had just unwrapped the biggest, shiniest present under the tree and couldn’t believe it was really his.

I swallowed against the bile rising in my throat.

“So, let’s set some ground rules,” he said, folding his hands on the table, his expression turning serious—business-like. “I think we should agree that we can always add rules, and we can always dissolve them, but only if we both agree.”

I nodded stiffly, my voice unsteady. “Okay.”

“First rule,” James continued, “we never bring anyone here. This is our place. No one else is allowed in our home.”

My jaw clenched. “Thank you,” I whispered, hating how small my voice sounded. I hated the idea of some random woman moaning his name in our bed, touching him where only I was supposed to touch him.

“Second rule,” he went on, completely oblivious to the war raging inside of me. “We need to be honest with each other. But we are still the priority, so no ditching me because of another guy, okay?”

He grinned at me, like he found the thought amusing.

My stomach twisted.

How could he be so gleeful about this? Like this was the most normal conversation in the world? Like we were just casually discussing what movie to watch or what takeout to order?

And over f*****g banana cheesecake?

I would never make another one of those again.

“Testing,” I murmured, my voice barely audible. “I want us to get tested regularly.”

The words felt wrong coming out of my mouth. Like I was twisting the knife in my own chest.

I had spent eight years trusting this man with my body, and now I had to worry about him bringing home something else with him? The thought of him with another woman—bare, vulnerable, intimate—made me physically ill.

James nodded like it was the most logical thing in the world. “Of course.”

He reached for his own drink, taking a slow sip before adding, “And we should always let each other know if we’re coming home at night or if we’re staying out.”

I winced, fresh tears stinging my eyes.

I can’t do this.

I needed to get out. I needed to be anywhere but here.

“Anything else?” I asked, my voice faltering.

James tilted his head, considering for a moment before shaking it. “I don’t think so. Not right now, at least.”

And then, to my utter disbelief, he smiled.

That blinding, boyish smile that used to make my heart race, that used to feel like home.

Now, it just felt cruel.

I pushed back my chair and stood abruptly, wrapping my arms around myself as if that might somehow hold me together.

“I think I’m gonna go to Dave’s and spend the night.”

James' face fell. “Cora—”

I lifted a hand, cutting him off before he could argue. “You said we should take time to think about this. I just… I need some space, okay?”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. Slowly, reluctantly, he nodded. “Just remember,” he said, voice thick with emotion, “this isn’t because I don’t love you. It’s because I love you.”

I exhaled shakily, forcing myself to nod. “I know.”

My hand lifted on instinct, brushing over his cheek one last time.

And then, before I could fall apart completely, I turned and walked out.

I didn’t bother packing a bag. I didn’t even put on proper shoes. I just grabbed my purse and my jacket and left, desperate for any kind of comfort from anyone who could give it to me.

Rather than driving—because I had been downing wine like it was water—I opted to walk.

The night air was crisp, cooling the heat in my cheeks as I made my way down the quiet sidewalks. My brother didn’t live far, and maybe the fresh air would help clear my mind.

But the further I walked, the worse it got.

James’ face flashed in my mind—his excitement, his anticipation, the way he lit up at the thought of sleeping with someone else.

Was it me? Was I not enough? Was s*x with me not good enough?

Tears blurred my vision as I neared David’s townhouse. There was light inside, so I knew he was home. I took the steps up the porch, my body aching from the weight of everything I was carrying. I just needed to crash—just needed someone to tell me I wasn’t going crazy.

I knocked hard. Then harder, when no one answered.

“Come on, dickhead!” I called through the door, my voice shaking. “It’s me, okay? Just open up. I swear I won’t be in your way.”

Silence.

I raised my fist to knock again, but before I could, the door swung open.

And even though the brown eyes staring back at me were familiar, they weren’t David’s.

They were his.

The one person I both wanted and couldn’t bear to see right now.

My bottom lip wobbled, my breath hitching in my throat.

“Will,” I whimpered.

And then, before I could completely collapse, he wrapped me in his arms.