Igniting desire

Chapter2: desperate measures

She wasn't going to cause a scene. She refused to give the media a front-row seat to her family's undoing.

Micah turned on her heel and walked away, tears blurring her vision. She was furious, but what stung the most was that Stefan never even attempted to follow her.

As soon as she made it to her car, Micah dialed Angela's number. She desperately needed someone right now. When the call failed to connect, she slid to the floor of her car, sobbing as a heavy ache bloomed in her chest. Where did I go wrong? She wondered.

She replayed Stefan's cutting words from that morning. “You're getting fat.”

It was true she had gained a little weight since resigning from her corporate job. But Stefan had practically begged her to be a stay-at-home wife. He told her he didn't want her stressing, insisting she focus entirely on trying for a baby. To keep herself busy in an empty house, she had even fired the housekeeper just to have chores to do. Later, when she tried working from home as a virtual assistant, Stefan had flown into a rage, forcing her to quit.

She had done everything his way. She had lived her life under his rules, never crossing a single line—and he still cheated.

Driven by sudden insecurity, Micah hurried upstairs to her bedroom. Angela’s line still wasn't connecting, and the isolation was suffocating.

Desperate to check her figure, she pulled a fitted red dress from her closet—the same one she had worn to a New Year's party with Stefan just three months ago. If her body had changed, this dress would prove it.

She struggled into the fabric, gasping as the zipper resisted. When she finally got it up, she stared in the mirror. The dress was uncomfortably tight, restricting her movement and prominently highlighting a soft layer of belly fat.

Before she could spiral further, the doorbell rang. Micah hurried downstairs and opened the door to find Angela standing on the porch.

"I'm so sorry," Angela said instantly, pulling Micah into a tight hug.

"Angie... do I look fat?" Micah asked, her voice cracking as fresh tears spilled over.

"Where on earth is this coming from?" Angela asked, pulling back to look at her.

“Stefan told me I was. Maybe that's the reason he went to another woman," Micah cried, her eyes red and swollen. "I've been seeing the signs, but I never actually thought he'd do it.”

"You look good, girl," Angela comforted her gently.

“No, I don't! If I looked good, he wouldn't be in another woman's arms right now!” Micah shouted, the raw pain of the morning rushing back.

“Stefan hasn't touched me in months, Angie. Even when I make the moves, he pulls away."

"Shhh, don't cry, dear." Angela drew her back into an embrace, gently patting her hair.

"I kept wondering what the problem was," Micah lamented into her shoulder. "He just makes empty promises, travels for work, comes back with expensive gifts, and then says he's too tired. I'm the problem, Angie. I'm going to register for gym sessions right now." She pulled away, a sudden determination hardening her features.

“Hell no, Micah," Angela countered immediately. "You are still recovering from your miscarriage. It’s barely been a month!”

“Then what do you suggest? That I sit here while those hourglass vultures steal my husband? No f*****g way,” Micah snapped, her mind entirely made up.

“Look, I get that you're hurting and want to fix your marriage, but you have to think about your health first,” Angela reasoned.

“I'll be fine once my marriage is fine,” Micah insisted.

Angela sighed, realizing there was no changing her mind. “Okay, fine. I support you. But you have to promise me you won't push yourself too hard.”

“I won't. I promise.”

Angela leaned against the counter, tapping her chin. “If you want him back in your bed, I guess you'll have to spice up your s****l game.”

"How?" Micah asked, genuinely curious.

"Think about it. He travels constantly and interacts with clients and foreigners. Most businessmen talk about their wild exploits abroad," Angela explained. "You need to bring that same energy home. Foreplay, teasing, new styles... I can teach you, and even help you pick out the right lingerie."

Relief washed over Micah, and she hugged her friend tightly. "Really? Thank you."

"It's nothing, girl. Just stop crying and wipe your face," Angela smiled, teasingly sticking her tongue out. "Though, if you ever need help blowing off steam, I'm always available."

"f**k off, lesbian," Micah laughed, the heavy tension finally breaking.

“How is Scott, anyway?” Micah asked, changing the subject.

Angela’s playful expression instantly soured. Scott was her boyfriend. He was sweet and handsome, but Angela refused to fully commit because he couldn't fund the lavish lifestyle she desired.

"He's good," Angela replied casually.

"Angela," Micah warned, laughing at her friend's dismissive tone.

"What?" Angela looked sheepish.

“Don't do that. The guy is great, and you two match perfectly.”

“Perfect? Maybe if he were rich. The man lives on a monthly allowance,” Angela scoffed.

“It's called a salary, Angie,” Micah chuckled.

“What's the difference? They both only show up at the end of the month.”

“Girl, you are crazy. You really should try settling down.”

“With what you're currently going through? Not a chance,” Angela waved her hand dismissively.

“Honestly, I don't want a divorce," Micah said softly, her playfulness vanishing. "I love my husband, and I'll do anything to save us.”

“I can see that," Angela said gently, giving her a reassuring wink. "That's why we're going to the mall right now to get you some proper gear. You can talk things out with him first, then settle the rest in bed.”

Micah rolled her eyes affectionately. “I wonder what terrible things I did in my past life to have you dumped into my present one.”

“Very bad things," Angela laughed. "But it's nice to see you smiling again.”

“Thank you.” Micah took a deep breath. "I'm going to go upstairs and get changed. I feel like I'm suffocating in this dress."

"Alright. Want me to come up and help you undress?" Angela joked, making a suggestive gesture with her fingers.

"You're impossible," Micah laughed, shaking her head as she headed up the stairs.

Left alone in the living room, Angela’s smile faded. She pulled out her phone and quickly typed a message: We need to talk. She hit send and immediately locked the screen, slipping the phone back into her pocket.

Meanwhile, at the corporate headquarters, Stefan settled back into his demanding schedule. His afternoon meeting had dragged on much longer than expected, leaving him thoroughly drained. He briefly considered calling Micah to check in, but quickly dismissed the thought.

He didn't need to worry. After all, he had her wrapped entirely around his finger.

A sharp knock broke his concentration.

“Sir, we've got a Miss Daisy on your personal line,” his secretary, Jane, announced through the door.

“Acknowledge. I'll take it,” Stefan replied, dismissing her. He waited for the line to click over before speaking harshly. “Are you crazy? Calling my work line? Do you have a death wish?”

“Oh, calm down, tiger,” Daisy’s playful voice purred through the receiver. “I was just worried because your personal phone went straight to voicemail. I thought your wife might have gotten to you already.”

“That is none of your business,” Stefan snapped.

“What are you going to do about her, anyway? She clearly saw us in the lobby,” Daisy pressed, her tone shifting to slight concern.

Stefan leaned back in his leather chair, a cold, calculated smile spreading

across his face. “Don't worry about her. I've got plans.”