GILDED RUIN

THE UNRAVELING

ELINA pov

"An open marriage, Elina, people do it all the time."

Damien said this like he was suggesting we try a new restaurant.

I stood in the doorway of our bedroom, staring at him sitting on the edge of our bed, the same bed where I'd found him with another woman twelve hours ago.

He looked calm, almost bored, like catching your husband with someone else was just a minor inconvenience.

"Are you serious right now?" I asked.

My voice came out flat, dead; I'd cried all my tears in that hotel room with a stranger whose name I didn't know.

"I'm being practical," Damien said, adjusting his watch, "we're both young, we have needs, why should we limit ourselves?"

I thought about last night, walking into this apartment early because I wanted to surprise him with his favorite takeout.

I'd heard sounds from the bedroom.

Not TV sounds.

Not alone sounds.

I'd walked down the hallway like I was moving through water, each step heavier than the last.

Pushed open the door.

Damien was in our bed with a woman I'd never seen before. She had perfect skin and designer clothes thrown across our floor like trash.

They didn't even notice me at first.

When Damien finally looked up, he didn't look guilty or ashamed.

He looked annoyed, like I was interrupting something important.

"Elina," he'd said, "we need to talk."

The woman sat up, completely unbothered by her nakedness or my presence. She smiled at me, actually smiled, like we were all friends here.

"I'll give you two a moment," she'd said, reaching for her expensive bra.

I just stood there frozen, my brain trying to catch up with what my eyes were seeing.

"I think we should see other people," Damien had said, buttoning his shirt like we were discussing dinner plans, "I know this looks bad, but hear me out, an open marriage could work for us."

"You're in our bed," I'd whispered.

"I know, and I should have told you sooner about my feelings, but Elina, we're both young, we have needs that one person can't always meet."

The woman walked past me without a word, her perfume expensive and suffocating. She left like she'd done this a hundred times before.

"Get out," I'd said to Damien.

"This is my apartment too; we need to discuss this like adults."

"Get out or I'm calling the police."

Something in my voice must have convinced him; he grabbed his jacket and wallet, still looking at me like I was overreacting.

"You're being dramatic," he'd said at the door, "we can talk about this tomorrow when you've calmed down."

The door closed.

I packed a bag.

Called Sage, but didn't tell her everything.

Went to that hotel bar.

Met a stranger who made me feel human again.

Now, standing in my tiny cubicle at work, I could barely remember how I'd gotten through the morning.

"Elina, you okay?"

I looked up, and my coworker Jennifer was standing there with coffee and concern on her face.

"Fine," I lied, "just tired."

"You never call in sick. Yesterday must have been bad. Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, much better."

Jennifer leaned against my desk, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret.

"Did you hear the big boss might actually visit our floor today? Apparently, he never leaves the top floor and wears a mask because of some medical condition."

I didn't care about the big boss or his mask or anything except getting through this day without falling apart.

"That's interesting," I said, pretending to look at my computer screen.

Jennifer finally left, taking her gossip with her.

My phone buzzed.

Sage's name appeared.

I answered, trying to sound normal.

"Hey."

"Elina, where were you yesterday? I called like five times."

"I wasn't feeling well, just needed to rest."

"Bullshit, what happened with Damien?"

Sage knew me too well; she could hear lies in my voice from a mile away.

"We had a fight," I said carefully, "nothing major."

"Elina."

"I'm fine, really, I just need some space to think."

"If you need me, I'm here, you know that, right?"

"I know, I love you."

After hanging up, I stared at my desk, at the files I was supposed to be reviewing, at the coffee that had gone cold hours ago.

I kept thinking about him.

The stranger from the hotel.

His voice, his hands, the way he'd looked at me like I was worth something.

I didn't even know his name.

I'd left money on his nightstand like he was nothing, like the night meant nothing, but it had meant something to me; it had meant everything.

My phone buzzed again.

This time, Damien's name appeared.

My stomach dropped, I almost didn't answer, but something made me press the green button.

"What do you want?"

"We need to talk about the divorce," he said, his voice cold and businesslike.

The word hit me like a slap.

"Divorce?"

"I'm filing tomorrow, I think it's best for both of us, clean break."

I couldn't breathe, he was the one who cheated, who proposed an open marriage, who destroyed everything, and now he was filing for divorce like I was the problem.

"You're filing?" I repeated.

"Yes, and Elina, there's something else."

I waited, my hand gripping the phone so hard my knuckles turned white.

"I'm keeping the apartment."

The line went dead.

I sat there staring at my phone, feeling my entire world c***k open.

He was taking everything.

My marriage, my home, my dignity.

And I was pregnant with a stranger's baby.

A stranger I would never find.