A TASTE OF FREEDOM
938 Words
Scarlett sat on her bed's edge as she held her phone while she reread Seraphina’s text.
Seraphina: I've already reserved the resort for you. You are worthy of this break, Scar. Simply inhale deeply and have fun for a change.
She paused. Something she hadn’t permitted herself in many years. The walls of Edward's estate felt like they were tightening, stifling her with their beautiful gold accents. And what about Edward? He was always absent, engrossed in his work, his affairs—his whole existence that excluded her.
She breathed out suddenly. If he was able to act freely, why wasn't she?
Scarlett acted swiftly, packing only a couple of dresses, some lingerie she hadn’t dared to wear in years, and enough necessities to last a week. The excitement welled within her as she donned a pair of sunglasses and stealthily made her way out into the night. Edward was absent, yet Winnie was constantly watching. The final thing she required was his entitled daughter approaching him with allegations.
As she sat in the taxi, observing the mansion disappear in the background, she experienced a sensation she hadn't felt in ages.
Freedom.
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As soon as Scarlett entered the five-star resort, she realized she had made the perfect decision. The sea breeze brought the fragrance of salt and sun-warmed sand, with the waves crashing in a calming tempo. Her villa faced the beach, the infinity pool collided effortlessly with the skyline.
She was alive. By herself.
Complimentary.
Scarlett filled a glass with wine, allowing the cold drink to calm her strained nerves. She intended to spend the evening by herself, gazing at the stars from her personal balcony. Yet Seraphina’s voice resonated in her thoughts.
"You must release it, even if it's merely for a single night." Enjoy yourself. "Engage in something adventurous."
Just one night .
Before she could convince herself otherwise, she grabbed her phone and installed a dating app. Initially, it was merely curiosity. She didn't plan to meet anyone. However, one profile drew her interest.
Damien.
His profile was unclear, but captivating. No workout selfies, no awkward pickup lines. Only one picture of his striking gray eyes accompanied a bio that stated: “Here for a good time, not a long time.”
There was something about him that drew her closer. Despite her better judgment, she sent him a message.
The pub had low lighting, the gentle amber hue creating faint shadows. Scarlett sat by herself, her fingers brushing against the edge of her wine glass. She ought to go. This was foolish and hazardous.
Yet, before she could shift, a low voice pierced the quiet murmur of dialogue.
"I was beginning to believe you had no intention of coming."
Scarlett spun around—and her breath caught.
Damien was strikingly handsome. Lofty, wide-shouldered, naturally self-assured. The type of man who captures attention effortlessly.
“I usually don’t engage in activities like this,” Scarlett confessed.
"That means we're in the same boat," he remarked, taking a seat next to her. "Yet occasionally, we all require a getaway, don't we?"
A gradual smile pulled at her mouth. "You don't have a clue."
The dialogue progressed smoothly. He caused her to laugh, allowing her to disregard the burdens of the world that awaits her return. There were no expectations, no pressure—only an exciting tension that buzzed between them.
Then he moved closer. "Join me."
Scarlett's heart raced. Every of her thoughts urged her to decline. Yet she didn’t.
She agreed with a nod.
The suite was lightened by moonlight, with shadows swirling on the walls. Damien shut the door after them, his eyes fixed on hers.
“Are you sure?” he whispered.
Scarlett replied without using any words. Instead, she moved closer, pressing her lips to his in a passionate kiss.
It was different from anything she had ever encountered. There was no doubt, no discomfort—only pure, unfettered fervor. He caressed her as if he had been anticipating this moment endlessly, as if he understood precisely what she desired.
After years, she experienced a sense of being wanted. Not merely Edward’s trophy spouse. Not in the form of ownership. However, Scarlett is a woman with her own desires.
They spent the night intertwined, immersed in the captivating fog of desire and freedom. And for the first time in ages, she stopped thinking. She was merely in the act.
The early sunlight filtered through the delicate curtains, creating golden designs on the bed sheets. Scarlett stirred, stretching slowly only to discover the bed next to her vacant.
Damien had disappeared.
She propped herself up, brushing her fingers through her messy hair, her thoughts still clouded by slumber. Had she actually done this? Had she truly spent the night with someone unknown?
A loud knock on the door surprised her. Heart racing, she hurried out of bed and draped the sheet around her before pulling it aside.
A hotel staff member stood there, carrying a tray of breakfast. "A note for you, madam."
Perplexed, she grabbed the tiny envelope and closed the door. With her hands slightly shaking, she opened the note.
“Had to depart early. Last night will always be memorable. No remorse.”
Scarlett breathed out, feeling an odd blend of relief and letdown enveloping her. No files included. No issues. That was what she desired.
She moved toward the bathroom, her thoughts revisiting each second of the previous night. And then—
Her breath halted.
Her left hand seemed…lighter.
Panic flooded her as she desperately looked through the sheets, the ground, everywhere.
Her wedding ring was missing.
- Writer
