THE OTHER WOMAN
1315 Words
Vanessa Cross did not believe in guilt.
Guilt was for people who cared about consequences. Guilt was for people who believed they could be better. Vanessa had stopped believing that years ago — maybe the day her mother died, maybe the day she took the jade necklace, maybe the day she first kissed Derek in a hotel room that smelled like jasmine and sin.
She was not a good person. She had made peace with that.
But watching Adrian across the dinner table, watching him laugh at something Nina said — something small, something ordinary — Vanessa felt something she didn't expect.
Not guilt.
Fear.
---
The morning after the family dinner, Vanessa woke early.
Adrian was still asleep — or pretending to be. His back was to her. His breathing was slow and even. She studied the line of his spine, the gray at his temples, the way his hand rested on the pillow where her head should have been.
He had not touched her in months. Not really. A brush of fingers when passing the salt. A peck on the cheek before leaving for work. The mechanical gestures of a marriage that had become a habit.
She used to want him to touch her. Now she didn't care.
But she didn't want anyone else touching him either.
---
She slipped out of bed and walked to the bathroom. The mirror showed a woman who was still beautiful — forty years old, expensive skincare, no gray, no wrinkles. She had worked hard for this face. She had earned it.
But Adrian had stopped looking at it.
He looked at Nina now.
Nina. The name tasted bitter. The assistant with the dark hair and the glasses and the way she tilted her head when she listened, like every word he said mattered.
Vanessa had watched them at dinner. The way Adrian's eyes followed Nina around the room. The way Nina's hand brushed his when she reached for the wine. The way they spoke to each other — quiet, intimate, like they were sharing secrets no one else could hear.
He's having an affair with her, Vanessa had texted Derek. I know it.
Derek had replied: You don't know that.
But she did.
She had always known.
---
Her phone buzzed on the counter.
Derek: Can you talk?
She glanced at the bedroom. Adrian hadn't moved.
She typed back: Not now. Tonight. The usual.
Derek: I can't keep doing this.
Vanessa: Yes you can. You will.
She set the phone down and stared at her reflection.
You're losing everything, a voice whispered. Adrian. Derek. Yourself.
She pushed the voice away.
---
That afternoon, Vanessa went to the hotel.
Derek was already there. He was standing by the window, his back to her, his hands in his pockets. He looked tired. He looked like a man who hadn't slept in weeks.
"Close the door," he said.
She closed it. Locked it.
"Derek —"
"Don't." He turned. His eyes were dark, angry. "Don't tell me it's fine. Don't tell me we'll figure it out. Just — don't."
She walked toward him. Slowly. Carefully. Like approaching a wounded animal.
"What's wrong?"
"You know what's wrong." He stepped back, away from her reach. "Adrian. Nina. The way he looks at her. The way you looked at him at dinner."
"I wasn't looking at him."
"You were. You were watching him watch her. And you were jealous."
Vanessa's jaw tightened. "I wasn't jealous."
"Then what were you?"
She didn't answer.
He ran his hands through his hair. "I can't do this anymore, Vanessa. The lying. The hiding. Watching my brother fall apart while I —" He stopped. Swallowed. "I'm not a good person."
"Neither am I."
"That's not the comfort you think it is."
She closed the distance between them. Reached up. Touched his face.
"I need you," she said.
"You don't need me. You need someone to need you. There's a difference."
She flinched. His words had landed — sharp, precise, true.
"Then why do you stay?" she whispered.
He looked at her. For a long moment, he didn't speak.
"Because I love you," he said. "Even though I hate myself for it."
She kissed him.
It was desperate, hungry, the kind of kiss that came from years of wanting and not wanting, of knowing and not caring. He kissed her back — but his hands were shaking.
---
Afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets.
The city was gray outside. The room smelled like them — sweat and perfume and something sad.
"Derek," she said.
"Don't."
"We need to talk about —"
"I said don't."
She turned to face him. His eyes were closed.
"Adrian is having an affair with Nina," she said.
He opened his eyes. "You don't know that."
"I know it. I've seen the way he looks at her. I've seen the way she looks at him."
"Maybe you're projecting."
"Maybe I'm not."
He sat up. Reached for his shirt.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Leaving."
"Don't."
"Vanessa —"
"If he's having an affair, then we're even. Don't you see? We're not the bad guys anymore."
Derek stared at her. His expression was unreadable.
"That's not how it works," he said.
"Why not?"
"Because we were the bad guys first. Because we started this. Because every time you justify it, you just make it worse."
He stood up. Buttoned his shirt. Didn't look at her.
"Derek."
He paused at the door.
"I love you," she said.
He didn't turn around.
"That's the problem," he said.
Then he walked out.
---
Vanessa stayed in the hotel room for an hour after Derek left.
She lay in the bed, still naked, staring at the ceiling. The sheets smelled like him. She buried her face in the pillow and breathed him in.
You're losing everything.
She sat up. Reached for her phone.
Adrian: What do you want for dinner?
She stared at the message. He never asked that. He never asked anything.
She typed back: Whatever.
Then she got dressed and drove home.
---
The house was dark when she arrived.
Adrian's car was in the driveway. She walked inside, kicked off her heels, and found him in the kitchen. He was standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot.
"You're cooking," she said.
"I'm trying to."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "Felt like it."
She leaned against the doorway. Watched him move around the kitchen — pouring wine, tasting the sauce, adjusting the heat. He looked different tonight. Lighter. Almost happy.
He's been with her, Vanessa thought. He's been with Nina.
The jealousy was a cold hand around her throat.
"How was your day?" she asked.
"Fine. Yours?"
"Fine."
The lie sat between them, heavy and familiar.
---
They ate in silence.
The food was good — better than she expected. She told him so. He nodded. Didn't smile.
"Adrian."
He looked up.
"Are you happy?" she asked.
The question hung in the air.
He set down his fork. "Are you?"
She should have said yes. She should have lied. But for once, she couldn't.
"No," she said. "I'm not."
He nodded slowly. Like he had known. Like he had always known.
"Me neither," he said.
They finished dinner in silence.
---
That night, Vanessa lay awake.
Adrian was beside her, turned away, his breathing slow. Asleep — or pretending to be.
She reached for her phone.
Derek: I'm sorry about today.
She stared at the message.
Vanessa: Me too.
Derek: We need to stop.
Vanessa: I know.
Derek: Do you?
She didn't answer.
She turned off the phone and stared at the ceiling.
In the dark, she could hear Adrian breathing. Could feel the warmth of his body, inches away. Could remember a time when she had loved him — or thought she had.
She wasn't sure anymore.
She wasn't sure of anything.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD