8
1813 Words
NADIA
At exactly six o’clock, Felix and I ring the doorbell to his parents’ house. I silently cross my fingers, praying that Maria, their housekeeper, is the one who answers.
Maria is quiet, blissfully so, and won’t feel the need to fill every second with polite chatter. With her, I could just smile, nod, and coast through the evening, pretending everything between Felix and me is still perfect.
But, of course, it’s Beatrice who swings open the door instead. Her face lights up the second she sees us. Before I can say a word, she pulls me into one of her signature hugs, tight, warm, and impossibly long while sighing as if she’s greeting a long-lost daughter.
“My God, you look good! You’re practically glowing!” she exclaims, pulling back to study my face with motherly pride.
I summon a smile, remembering the agreement Felix and I made on the drive here, keep up appearances, stay affectionate, and play the part. So I toss him a teasing wink and let out a light, practised giggle.
“Felix has been doing a tremendous job,” I say sweetly, brushing a hand against his arm for show. “You raised a gem, I tell you.”
Felix catches on instantly. His lips curve into that easy, charming grin his mother adores. He lifts my hand and presses a kiss to my knuckles, eyes locked on mine like we’re still caught up in some fairytale. “Always, babe. I love you.”
Beatrice clasps her hands together, beaming. “Oh, you two! You make my heart so happy.” She steps aside, ushering us in. “Come in, come in. The table’s all set, and Richard’s just finishing up a meeting with a new client.”
As we step into the grand foyer, the familiar scent of polished wood and Beatrice’s signature lavender candles wraps around me.
The place looks exactly the same, immaculate, symmetrical, and filled with framed memories of a family that stick together always.
Felix’s hand rests gently at the small of my back, guiding me forward, but the warmth of his touch doesn’t linger. It’s all for show, just like the smiles, the laughs, and the story we’ve agreed to sell tonight.
Beatrice leads us to the dining room where the table gleams under soft lights. “I made your favourite,” she says proudly. “Creamy mushroom pasta with fresh herbs and a little white wine sauce. And the chicken’s from that new farm Richard won’t stop talking about.”
“Mom, you’ve outdone yourself again,” Felix says, helping pour wine.
She waves him off but beams anyway. “Well, I like feeding happy people.”
Moments later, Richard walks in, tall and composed, his phone tucked into his jacket pocket. “Ah, there’s my son and my favourite girl!” He gives me a quick hug and claps Felix on the shoulder. “You two look well. What’s the secret?”
Felix laughs. “Good food and great company.”
Dinner flows easily, stories, laughter, and the soft clinking of cutlery. Beatrice insists everyone take seconds, and Richard tells a story about a client who got locked in his own car during a Zoom meeting. Even Felix looks genuinely relaxed for once, his laugh low and real.
By the time dessert arrives, a light tiramisu that Beatrice insists is “just experimental” I’m leaning back in my chair, pleasantly full. The air feels cozy and familiar.
And for a fleeting moment, it’s easy to forget the act, the rules, and everything waiting outside this house.
It just feels… nice.
Felix suggests we take a walk before heading home. He helps me with my coat, his fingers brushing against mine just long enough to make me wonder if it’s intentional. When he steps back, he gives a soft smile, the kind that used to disarm me so easily, and then locks our arms together as we step out into the cool evening.
The street is quiet, painted in the soft glow of the streetlamps. Our footsteps fall in sync, crunching against the gravelly pavement. I try to slip my arm free once we’re past the gate, but his hold only tightens.
I shoot him a frown. “We’re out of your parents’ view. You can let go now.”
“Not yet,” he says easily, eyes straight ahead. “Everyone on this street knows us. You’re quite the celebrity designer, remember?”
I huff a little laugh. “I’ve already made a name for myself, Felix. I don’t need this… performance to keep up appearances.”
He stops walking, turning to look at me with that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re one tough woman, you know that? And that’s sexy.”
The compliment catches me off guard. My heart gives a small, traitorous flip. For a second, I see him as he used to be before the distance, before the sharp words and misunderstandings. Just Felix, the man who used to make me laugh until I cried.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
He nods and resumes walking, taking the road that winds past the park, the same one we used to bike down on lazy Sunday mornings when everything between us felt simple. The air smells faintly of rain and blooming jasmine.
After a long, comfortable silence, he says, “I’m curious about something.”
I glance at him, the rhythm of our steps slowing. “Go ahead.”
His tone shifts, low and deliberate. “What’s the name of the man you’re seeing currently?”
The words hit like cold water. I stop dead in my tracks and pull my arm from his. My eyes search his face, half-expecting a hint of teasing, but there’s none. His expression is unreadable, calm, and almost too calm.
“What?” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.
He holds my gaze, unflinching. “You heard me.”
The air shifts. Whatever calm existed between us dissolves, leaving only the sharp edge of something unspoken.
I cross my arms. “That’s none of your business.”
Felix doesn’t flinch. “It’s a simple question.”
“And an unnecessary one,” I say sharply. “The rule book clearly says we don’t pry into each other’s personal lives.”
He arches a brow, surprised. “You actually read the rule book?”
I give him a look. “Of course I did.”
He lets out a quiet laugh. “I’m impressed. You usually ignore anything with rules in it.”
I roll my eyes. “You left me with no choice, Felix.”
“Right.” He stops so suddenly that I almost bump into him. The streetlight spills over his face, highlighting a strange flicker in his eyes. “So, um… do you mind if I meet him? Your partner?”
I blink, unsure if I heard him right. Partner?
Okay, this is weird.
“What’s going on, Felix?” I ask slowly. “You’re… out of character tonight.”
He exhales, his breath fogging the cool evening air. “I’m just curious, that’s all.” His gaze trails over my face, searching for something. “Like Mom said, you’re glowing. Happier. Different. I figured maybe it’s because of whoever you’re… seeing.”
I let out a disbelieving laugh. “Seeing? Felix, I’m your wife.”
He scratches the back of his head, looking almost boyish and guilty. “I know. And I’ll never forget that. But I’m just asking…”
“Don’t.” My voice comes out sharper than I intend. I try to pull my hands away, but he catches them, his fingers warm and insistent against my wrists.
“Hey,” he says softly, thumb brushing over my pulse. “I’ve been watching this movie,” he says, voice low and uncertain. “It’s about a couple who get into… unconventional things. Group stuff. Wild, experimental.” He pauses, eyes flicking up to mine. “And it made me wonder if you’d ever be into that kind of thing.”
For a moment, I can’t find words. The street goes quiet except for the wind brushing against the trees.
“Is that what this is about?” I finally ask. “You think I’m glowing because I’m out having orgies?”
He laughs softly, but it sounds nervous. “No. It’s not like that. I just… sometimes I feel like there’s a whole side of you I don’t really know. And maybe you’d rather explore that with someone else.”
His honesty disarms me. I should be angry, but instead, I just feel the sting of something heavier.
“You’re ridiculous,” I murmur, pulling my hands free. “But for the record, Felix, if I ever wanted something wild… you’d be the first to know.”
He stares at me a little too long before smiling faintly. “And what if I'm into that, and I'd love to try it with you. My partner and your partner?”
For a split second, my brain blanks. Then air bursts out of my nose in disbelief. “I—what?”
My nose flares, I can actually feel the heat rising up my neck. What the hell has gotten into this man?
How did we get from Sunday dinner with his parents to… this?
“Felix,” I manage, my voice a mix of outrage and stunned amusement, “you’ve officially lost your mind.”
He looks at me—really looks, and I see it then, under the careful calm in his expression. Jealousy. Pure and sharp.
Oh. So that’s what this is.
“Unbelievable,” I mutter, half laughing. “This was your idea, remember? You’re the one who wanted an open marriage. You’re the one who made all the rules.”
“I know.” His voice comes out tight. “But I didn’t think I’d hate watching you actually enjoy it.”
For a second, I just stared at him, stunned. He runs a hand through his hair, restless, like he wants to take the words back but can’t.
“So now what?” I ask quietly. “You want to rewrite the rules because they don’t suit you anymore?”
He shakes his head, frustration flickering across his face. “No. I just… I keep wondering what it’d be like to be the one making you glow again.”
Something inside me twists, guilt, pity, or maybe even the faintest flicker of something I don’t want to name.
“Felix,” I say softly, “you opened the door. Don’t act surprised I walked through it.”
He exhales sharply and looks away, his jaw tightening. “Yeah,” he mutters. “I just didn’t think you’d walk so far.”
- Writer
