#dropping thousands of gold on style pages that i’ll use for a week before changing it up again

[lesbx]

eso is a dress-up game with some auxiliary rpg elements

[phantompearlsalt]

Sour Cherry, Chapter 9

I’m sorry I didn’t give y’all a preview this time! As you may know, this week has been exceptionally difficult for many reasons but mostly work being very hectic. Nevertheless, I found some comfort in writing this chapter and hope you enjoy it! Chapter 9 was somewhat challenging but in a cool way: as reference, this can be read as a sort of “prequel” to chapter 3 but can also be read as a standalone. All the build up before that first kiss. CW: Part “Three” is a kidnapping/hostage situation. As always, feel free to check it out on AO3! 

One

“Good afternoon, professor. May I speak to your lead archivist?”

Your face is buried in the dusty journal entries of a former governor in the northern Earth Kingdom when the voice brings you to a halt. Using your finger to secure your place in the pages, you lean back up and instantly stare at your colleague Lihua, disoriented.

“Kuvira?” she mouths, her eyes widened with a marked degree of uneasiness. You stay still but hope that the slight twitch of your mouth is sufficient affirmation. You’ve worked with Lihua for a long time now and you even consider her a close friend. Beyond your working relationship, she has become one of the few individuals you’ve established a dynamic of genuine trust with. Given that precedent, naturally she knows about Kuvira. She knows you’ve been attending the dance recitals with increasing fervor and often teases you about this “silly little crush of yours”.

However, she doesn’t know you’ve been sneaking out at night to attend the illicit gatherings where Kuvira has been recruiting Zaofu residents to defy Suyin Beifong’s isolationist stance on the situation in Ba Sing Se. She knows of the meetings (the woman has an exceptional capacity of acquiring even the most covert information) but you know she would decry your attendance. She has dropped the occasional comment expressing her concern with your infatuation with Kuvira but you have tactfully ignored them each time.

You would laugh at the situation at hand if you weren’t so taken aback — the looks of surprise on your faces are attributed to totally different reasons.

Your supervisor mumbles something that can only be a confirmation. The metal door to the office slides open and Kuvira steps in with Baatar at her side. Much to your dismay, it feels as though your stomach disintegrates into dust when her “brother” appears. You force every muscle in your face to remain neutral while your body prickles with annoyance. Across the room, however, Lihua’s expression remains completely astonished.

Your eyes linger on her for about half a second before turning to Kuvira. She is fully draped in the distinctive attire of the Zaofu guard save for the helmet which Baatar carries in his arms. Her face carries that same reticent quality that characterizes her demeanor but you don’t fail to notice something different. Somewhat cavalier. It’s present in the vaguely lifted slope of her mouth. Kuvira scans the room briefly, stopping at Lihua who instantly stands and attempts to offer some sort of salute.

“Good afternoon, Miss Jiang. My sincerest apologies for disrupting what I’m certain is work of great importance. I hope you don’t mind if I speak to your colleague in private? I won’t be long,” Kuvira offers. The heady resonance of her voice is still present but it slips out much smoother and silkier in a way that titillates your senses and makes your mouth go dry.

“Oh um, no, not at all!” Lihua exclaims, collecting her belongings and messily stacking them into one unorganized pile on her desk. “I’ll leave you to your...business.” The discernable quiver in her voice fills you with unbearable secondhand embarrassment so you can’t deter the wave of relief that washes over when your friend has finally scrambled out of the room.

Once Lihua’s footsteps have faded into the distance, Kuvira turns on her heel until she is gazing directly at you. Her vibrant green eyes flicker with a somewhat cryptic air, boring deep into you as though she were looking beyond your physical self. It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable. You start to shift restlessly in your chair.

She briefly turns to the side, running her finger along the edge of Lihua’s wooden desk with a somewhat thoughtful expression. Your eyes follow the movement intently, observing the confident yet careful weight of her touch as it grazes over the sturdy material.

You have never noticed Kuvira’s fingers before. On the multiple occasions you’ve attended her recitals, you had been too enraptured by the nimble movements of her limbs to focus on those smaller details. Besides, from your vantage point you wouldn’t have been able to notice anyway.

Now that she is in such close proximity, you are able to truly and thoroughly admire the smooth contours and lines that make up Kuvira’s hands. There were nights where you had imagined her fingers to be long and lithe, much like the style of her dancing. While that is certainly true to an extent, you are surprised to see they are slightly broader with a hard layer of smooth muscle. You grow entranced by the distinct cords of tendons that course along the back of her hand and disappear into her wrist.

“Do you know why I’m here?” Kuvira inquires. The sound of her voice shakes you out of your daze. You look back up at her and notice her eyes have never left your face. You nervously lick your lower lip and a current of excitement quakes along your spine as you notice her eyes temporarily flicker to your mouth.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” you respond, surprised at the relative steadiness of your voice despite the rapid-fire pounding of your heart. “I anticipated as much,” Kuvira responds with an undertone of amusement to her voice. She brushes her hand against Lihua’s desk once more before taking the final few steps that bring her to your chair. Instinctively, you stand while keeping your finger lodged in the pages of the journal.

“The professor assured me you were under no pressing deadlines but given your line of work, I can only assume you are constantly preoccupied with all sorts of projects,” Kuvira notes. You chuckle once and shrug. “I appreciate the sentiment,” you reply. “It’s not as exhilarating as being the captain of the city guard but we manage.”

Kuvira’s expression does not change but you notice the edges of her face marginally soften. “I must disagree,” she says. Her hand moves towards the journal until your fingers are separated by the width of a nail. Your breath catches in your throat and you look straight into the spot just below Kuvira’s left eye. The thought of looking at her directly is too much when you can nearly feel the warmth emanating from her body even through layers of cloth and metal.

“You are so much more than an archivist. You carry a keen and profound understanding of Earth Kingdom history and politics. Now more than ever, this knowledge is invaluable and that is precisely why I’m here,” she says.

“I...I’m not sure I follow,” you admit. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion and you watch as a shrewd look crosses over Kuvira’s face. “You are aware of our intention to personally oversee the stabilization of the Earth Kingdom capital,” Kuvira reminds you.

You nod in assent and she continues. “Therefore you understand the great need for individuals who will not only assist in pacifying Ba Sing Se but to effectively craft the infrastructure that will sustain its longevity. I said I would keep my visit brief and I will: I come today with a proposal.”

With this, her foot slides over an inch and your faces are separated by about a foot. From this angle, you can appreciate the brilliant green shade of her irises. Is that a hint of gold?

“You are one of Zaofu’s most prominent and well-respected political historians. You intimately know the inner workings of the Earth Kingdom states and your expertise will be invaluable for our stabilization and reunification efforts. It is a major task but I want you to consider joining my forces. My inner circle, to be precise.”

There is a moment where time seemingly hangs in midair as you process the statement. For a split second you nearly come undone in hysterical laughter because this couldn’t possibly be reality. You always knew you would follow Kuvira’s lead because you believed in her vision. You knew she would transform the capital in ways no one had the audacity to imagine. You had resigned yourself to this truth, of leaving behind your studies, your friends, your history in Zaofu for this work.

But you couldn’t have possibly imagined this. Kuvira’s inner circle? To your understanding, that has only consisted of Baatar, Varrick, and Zhu Li Moon. She had alluded to them on occasion during the meetings but you gleaned enough from how often they could be seen in each other’s company. A thousand questions start running through your mind but you can’t seem to grasp at any.

Kuvira continues to watch you and you can’t tell how much time has passed because you got too into your thoughts again and now Baatar is looking at you too oh wait he’s still here you completely forgot about him and they’re waiting for you to respond you need to say something you can’t keep standing here like an idiot.

You shift your gaze and stare straight into Kuvira’s face. The instant your eyes reconnect, the pounding in your ears slowly dissipates into nothingness and every muscle in your body seems to relax. Kuvira’s stoic expression could be perceived as intimidating and even callous to most but there is a glimmer of some promise that grounds you and tells you to fully lean into the opportunity you have been presented with.

You lift your shoulders as you finally respond, “It is no question. I have aspired to serve your cause since the beginning. If you would have me, I would be eternally grateful to lend my skills to this great venture.”

Kuvira’s face gleams with a faint air of satisfaction and she starts to thank you before Baatar bursts in, shaking your hand and going on multiple tangents about the future of this grand plan and how grateful he is to have you on board. Given your personal aversion to the man, you are rather impressed with the cordial demeanor you manage to convey as he speaks.

As you nod along to the mindless stream of words coming from Baatar, you momentarily glance towards Kuvira again. Her expression, initially tinted with annoyance upon Baatar’s interjection, has grown into something else entirely. You aren’t quite sure what to name it but when you see the fierce intensity of her gaze upon your face, you quickly shift back to Baatar and hope no one notices the beads of nervous sweat that emerge along your temples.

Two

“It is not enough to have the former outer ring partially neutralized,” Kuvira states firmly. “If they do not capitulate to our forces soon we will have no way of systemizing these efforts across the city.”

Her voice echoes across the metal tent with great force, compelling the surrounding commanders and sergeants to look down in distress. You, on the other hand, find yourself losing sight of your notes as you grow entranced with Kuvira’s authoritative poise.

Since arriving in Ba Sing Se, the army has not had a single day of rest. Day in and day out, fighters are out subduing bandits and other agitators while other regiments attempt to deliver aid to multiple neighborhoods afflicted by the repercussions of the mass violence. In the midst of it all, Kuvira has remained the grounding force that keeps everyone oriented towards the same goal: the rebirth of Ba Sing Se and eventually a new Earth Empire.

You observe her and admire the potency of her mere presence. It permeates every inch of her body and every breath when she speaks. When her lips part, there is a lingering edge of hardness around the edges that further stresses her dominance. Despite having endured an exceptionally long and painful day thus far, every aspect of her appearance is pristine.

It’s evident that she took some time to rebraid her hair — the locks are cinched tightly together and there isn’t a single strand out of place. Though her eyes are creased with faint lines you can only attribute to exhaustion, her visage remains sharp and unyielding. She raises her shoulders high and keeps her back ramrod straight.

You graze over the smooth curves of her cheekbones, the lock of hair that hangs over her right eye, the gentle arch of her mouth that moves so artfully with every word it forms.

You wonder how her skin might feel under your hand, your fingers folding into the bone just beneath her ear. Sometimes she looks too exquisite, as if your touch might tarnish this immaculate appearance she has so carefully crafted. Yet you fail to release the desire. Instead, you gaze upon her cheek, tightening your hands into fists beneath the table, as the imagined sensation of its warmth against your palm sends heat tingling through your veins.

The sound of your name repeated twice causes your head to snap back up. Kuvira is staring directly at you and it’s clear she just asked something gauging by the questioning looks of your colleagues.

“I’m sorry,” you say hastily, shifting in your seat while your hands flutter over your pages. “Could you repeat that, please?” The question is out of your mouth before you can halt it and you’re briefly terrified about Kuvira’s potential reaction. Clearly she is not one to tolerate such behavior.

But she surprises you when she proceeds to reiterate her previous inquiry with no apparent exasperation. It catches you off guard and the feeling stays with you even after the meeting has ended.

You exit the tent alongside Commander Zhen, a simultaneously good-natured and formidable woman, who regards you curiously. “Everything okay back there? Kind of looks like you spaced out for a minute,” she says concernedly. You chuckle and wave your hand. “I’m good! Seriously. It was just getting a bit stuffy in there I think,” you reassure her.

You’re both about to move from the entryway when a hand momentarily touches your lower back. Out of the corner of your eye, you recognize Kuvira’s beauty mark and the realization startles you. She is walking away, flanked by Baatar and Varrick, and she looks back for an instant only to shoot a smirk that vanishes as quickly as it appears.

The touch lasts half a breath but it leaves an imprint that diffuses a vigorous electricity throughout your muscles. Zhen continues talking, completely oblivious to the effect Kuvira’s gesture has on you and you try to ignore that burning sensation that spreads across your back and fills your thoughts with a flustered haze.

Three

“I appreciate the role you have played these past few months,” Kuvira says, pressing her hand against your shoulder in that customary way that still feels special when she does it to you. You smile and clasp your hands together in an attempt to conceal your excitement.

It’s been three months in Ba Sing Se and everyone throughout the Earth Kingdom and beyond has expressed immense astonishment at the strides Kuvira has made in stabilizing the city. While there were generally competing opinions about Kuvira’s ability to spearhead the endeavor, everybody managed to agree on the fact that no one anticipated such progress in a short amount of time.

You have just finished another one of your brief meals together before heading off into your respective posts. Though these moments are often fleeting, you treasure them as invaluable nonetheless. It’s only been about a month and a half since you started meeting in this way and it has very quickly become a practice you look forward to each week.

“I wouldn’t have a role to play if it weren’t for your leadership,” you counter, arching an eyebrow as Kuvira’s face brightens so softly you can’t imagine anyone else would notice. “You’re already in the highest ring of my army. Flattery won’t get you much higher than that,” she murmurs discreetly.

Kuvira’s palm moves away from your shoulder and slowly drifts down your arm until it curls around your wrist. You both look down to the spot where your skin touches and for a moment it feels like her fingers are hovering towards your hand.

At that moment, Baatar appears and he’s frantically calling Kuvira’s name. You break away instantly and you take a few steps away from her. Though Baatar’s voice doesn’t convey a sense of dire need, there is still a sense of urgency that shatters the moment you’re having trouble believing actually happened.

“I must go. Thank you again...for all your help,” Kuvira says. You nod once and briskly walk away, ignoring the way your stomach twists inside your abdomen when Baatar’s face conjures up in your mind.

Four

You try to find comfort in the fact that you always anticipated something like this happening. It just seemed too inevitable. Though the most vicious gangs had been uprooted from the city, the less reputable ones still lingered and sought ways to establish their dominance over Kuvira’s army. You understand the basis of their actions. You understand how much pain and suffering they have endured over the course of many years but it doesn’t bring the solace you seek when your arms are bound with itchy rope and your eyes are forced shut behind a sheet of dirty cloth.

You had just parted ways with Bolin, promising him you’d meet for dinner later that night, when you felt a strong set of brawny hands clasp your shoulders and suddenly had cloth pulled over your eyes and mouth.

A muted hiss of multiple voices soon surrounded you as you were carried and tossed into what you assumed was a makeshift carriage. You landed hard on the wooden cart and you were certain you’d be covered in mottled bruises if you even made it out of here alive. From there, time flowed in a warped manner, both quickly and slowly.

Now, you’re somewhere damp and quiet. A cave?

You are breathing heavily through your nose, having given up on struggling against the obstructions when it became evident there was no feasible way out of them. You let your body collapse against the ground, recoiling against the moisture, until you hear a hushed voice far away.

“This is our last chance to lure Kuvira in and take back the city,” someone hisses. “We’ve got the brains behind the whole thing which means she’ll be here any —”

The voice is cut off by a powerful crack that’s followed with a roaring explosion of gravel that shakes the ground below. You curl into a ball, feeling spheres of earth bounce off your back and shoulders. “Looks like someone took the bait,” a different voice sneers.

“You have made a grave mistake,” Kuvira bellows. The sound of her voice lights something in your chest and you start thrashing against your restraints, hoping she will recognize the muffled calls for help.

There is a fearsome cry and another shudder as more boulders crash together. You hear Kuvira struggle with the force of fending off your captors and you want nothing more than to free yourself to help her. You push back into a seated position and use your hands to feel for anything that might be able to tear the ropes off but to no avail.

You jerk against the ground and feel someone grab your shoulders, attempting to pull you away. You shriek against the cloth in your mouth and kick frantically. You manage to land a blow against their knee and they curse, digging their fingers harder into your muscle as you howl out in pain.

But then they release you as a familiar grunt nears your face, followed by a flurry of swings that land against their body. Their breath comes out in one fell swoop, there’s a hiss of metal cutting through the air, and finally silence.

Within seconds, there are hands behind your head frantically undoing the blindfold. When the material falls away, you are met with Kuvira’s face contorted in a grimace of distress. The emotion falters vaguely as relief flashes over but she continues her quick work of loosening the rope behind your back. She bends a short knife out of her uniform and smoothly slices it through.

When your arms are free at long last, they fall like weights at your side and you feel yourself about to succumb to the dark shadows creeping over your eyes. Kuvira instinctively grabs you, her left arm cradling your back as her right drifts hesitantly over your chest. From your peripheral vision you catch glimpses of privates wrangling the subdued gang members but your vision grows hazier around the edges.

“You’re okay now. I’m here. You’re going to be okay,” Kuvira whispers. Her voice sounds so peculiar...is that anxiety? Sadness perhaps? You have never heard her voice quiver like this and the realization would be shocking if you weren’t so defeated.

Just as your eyelids flutter closed and you hear voices encroaching on you and Kuvira, you swear you feel the ghost of a touch along your cheek. But you brush it off as a figment of your sleep-muddled brain.

Five

You come to realize you’re in love with Kuvira like a fire. You know from the outset that it will happen because the embers are there. They may be faint and sometimes it feels like they might extinguish altogether but their constant presence is indication enough of a future where the flames are eventually roaring with boundless ferocity.

As time progresses and the flames are stoked, the intensity sharpens and grows. Each faint brushing of your fingers, each passing glance when you think no one is watching, each touch of Kuvira’s palm against your shoulder is another piece of debris tossed into the blaze. The gestures are small but they are real and each time the heat becomes increasingly difficult to control as it surges in your belly.

Everything culminates into a moment that is so totally ordinary. The awareness dawns on you like anything else would. It comes as naturally as the change in seasons, steady and certain.

It transforms into conscious understanding over lunch. Kuvira is telling you about the time she and her brother-figure Huan had hidden away from the rest of Beifongs during a family trip and got into a metal artmaking competition. It’s the first time she’s given you any insight into her childhood and she goes about it very hesitantly. You can tell she is choosing her words carefully, pausing every so often before she continues.

But it’s the way her eyes crease with nostalgic joy when she recalls Huan’s pretentious but genuine critique of her sculpture. It’s the way the stiff edge of her shoulders loosens so faintly it’s almost undetectable as she describes the intensity of her focus while she forged the metal structure. It’s the laughter disguised in a short rush of air when she looks back on this memory shared with her closest sibling.

The muted embers swell into an abundant cluster of sparks that seem to fill the space between you and Kuvira as you experience this new truth. She continues to speak in pauses, totally incognizant of the many emotions swirling through your body. You come to an understanding that you will have to keep this affection to yourself for the time being and perhaps forever.

The reality of that alarms you.

But instead, as you watch Kuvira’s face light up momentarily, you decide you will willingly and earnestly accept whatever comes next. For now, this is okay.

[ill-skillsgard]

Nothing But Her - Henry Deaver x Mistress

Warning: 18+ cheating/mature themes/strong language/spousal conflict

Note: It’s been about 2 months since the last installment of HxM, and I apologize for that. As you all well know, this year has been the topper on the world’s largest pile of shit, and I’ve tried to limit my time on the internet to not lose touch with my present reality. Aside from that, some writing burnout and adapting to the new norm posed some delays. But this is the angsty part I warned y’all about! It’s also a pivotal moment for Henry, so I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think! 

Read past Henry x Mistress imagines here > Masterpost

Quarantine pushed back Henry’s court hearing. While business ground to a halt, you and Henry spent the weeks alone in his penthouse. He had his work meetings via Zoom calls and enjoyed his nights next to you on the couch watching your favourite shows. Over the weeks, you got to know Henry even better, learning and appreciating his quirks and figuring out what made him tick. It was a surreal experience living under the same roof as your lover. After years of being on your own, having another presence to fill the days with conversation and entertainment was a new, exciting notion. Even though you grew bored several times a day, Henry kept you occupied that didn’t involve rolling around in the sheets. It brought you even closer—the opposite effect it seemed to have on some of your friends and their partners.

Three months of domestic bliss oozed by, and soon, the business had to resume. Meetings had to be held in person, and you started arranging his schedule to accommodate his clients and the process of his divorce.

The rescheduled court date took place in two weeks. It was the first time Henry would go in front of a judge and explain the reasoning behind his failed marriage and why he should be granted an even split of the assets. Mary’s lawyers had already outlined her demands, but all Henry wanted was to sign the paper that freed him from her, no matter what she wished to gain from the proceeding. If she wanted the house and the more expensive car, and to sell their Summer cottage and take half the money, he was more than happy to oblige. He had all he needed when he was at home with you.

Henry was on a smooth road toward his goals until a letter arrived in the mail from his soon-to-be ex-wife’s lawyer. Henry opened the envelope and scanned the first few lines, skipping vital information before shaking his head and refocusing his attention. As Henry read, his stomach dropped. The hand holding the page shook before he balled up the paper and threw it on the floor. Anger gurgled in his chest as he took useless deep breaths.

“Fuck!” He shouted, alerting you from across the condo.

You found him in the kitchen, pacing and tugging at fistfuls of his hair. 

“Henry, what’s the matter?” You asked.

“What’s the matter? The matter is: Mary just scrapped our settlement! She wants it all. Everything! She wants the condo, my car... The summer house.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, scoffing. “I thought she agreed to an even split?”

“Says right here, the settlement is up for renegotiation because there are new allegations of infidelity.”

“Infidelity? You mean?—Oh, no. Henry. What does that mean?”

He picked up the paper and smoothed out the creases, slapping it down on the kitchen island for you to read. “It means she’s coming after me because I’m with you. This will maim us. If she has proof... Oh, God. I don’t even want to think of the sneaky shit she’s probably done.”

“There’s no proof! We started seeing each other after you separated.”

“But, we hooked up before then.”

You shook your head. “She can’t prove that.”

Henry went white as the paper glaring up at you from the countertop. “And what if she can? What then?”

“You have job security, Henry.”

“I have a bad feeling,” he mumbled to himself. “A very, very bad feeling something’s up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have to talk to her... Figure out why she’s doing this after we agreed to be civil.”

Your throat constricted as a grave veil fell over Henry’s face. 

“Can you call her?” You asked.

“I could, but I think this would be better suited to a face-to-face conversation. Mary can’t hide anything if I’m looking her straight in the eye.”

“Well, if that’s what you think. But what if she refuses to talk to you?”

Henry threw his hands wide, shrugging. “Honestly, babe, I don’t know what’s going on in her head. She’s... She’s fucked!”

You rose your eyebrows, his cursing a testament to genuine anger. Henry rubbed his jaw, shifting it to one side until it cracked. He couldn’t keep still, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to calm down until he got the newest issue out of the way.

“You should go talk to her. Today. Don’t put it off. I don’t like it when you get in these moods.”

“Neither do I, sweetie. But I can’t just drive over there and demand she explain herself.”

“Why not? It’s still your house. You can do whatever you want.”

He weighed his options, considering your input and gave another long, strained sigh. “You really think I should?”

“Yes! Go to her now before this goes too far to fix. She can’t pull this shit and expect you to roll over and get screwed. You worked hard for what you have, and you deserve half. She’s the one who initiated the separation by treating you like dirt. Now she wants to drain you all of a sudden? After months of negotiations, she just scraps it all? If I were you, I’d go in there guns blazing.”

Henry thought it over, dreading the thought of facing Mary again.

“You’re right,” he bit his lip. “God! You’re right, babe. I have to go over there.”

“I’ll be right here when you get home, handsome. You just let me know if you need a drink ready and waiting for you.”

“Thank you, baby. I love you so much. Gosh, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I love you too, Henry. Now go on.”  

~*~

The street, although familiar to Henry, reminded him of how much life had changed. He drove by the houses he used to see on his morning jogs—structures that all fit a similar style around the block and lent the neighbourhood a comforting intimacy. He remembered the first time he and Mary turned down the avenue; newlywed and eager to get their life started in a quiet alcove of town, on a suburban strip. The houses had all seemed so large and intimidating at the time, but he had struck gold in his career, and nothing was too fancy for them.

The Lexus was in the driveway. That meant Mary was home, and the impending confrontation became more real. A knot formed in his stomach at the thought of seeing her again. He knew their exchange would not be a pleasant one and prepared himself with a few calming yoga breaths—the kind his girlfriend had taught him when they worked out together during the quarantine.

“You can do this, Deaver. Just stay calm. No matter how loud she yells. No matter what she says to insult you,” he murmured after turning the engine off, sitting in the driveway until he mustered the courage to get out.

Henry didn’t try the keypad on the door. Instead, he rang the bell to not catch Mary off guard by walking in unannounced, despite no warning of the change of heart on her end that brought him to his former home in the first place. Henry respected her privacy, though he knew she wouldn’t consider the same for him. Flashbacks of Mary storming into his bedroom at the condo while his secret lover hid in the bathroom dried out his throat, and he swallowed as the deadbolt drew back.

Mary gasped when she looked up at him, closing the door slightly in her surprise, then squaring her stance and tossing her hair off her shoulders.

“What do you want, pig?”

“I want to talk.”

“That’s what the lawyers are for,” she began to shut the door again, but Henry splayed his hand over the wood, stopping it from closing another inch.

“Mary. I’m serious. We need to talk. Inside.”

“You’re insane if you think I’m letting you in my house.”

“My name is still on the house, and you have no orders against me coming here. Please don’t make this more difficult.”

Mary studied her husband’s face for a flicker of insecurity, but there was none. The months he spent in the company of a loving woman had revitalized his confidence, and her frigid glare no longer held him hostage. Henry came to Mary prepared for anything she might have left in her repertoire of vilification. She had already accused him of hiring prostitutes, embarrassed him in front of his employees and colleagues, belittled him in the presence of their lawyers and accosted him at the condo. Mary had nothing left with which to shock him.

“Fine,” Mary conceded, stepping out of his way. “Let’s talk, Henry.”

They sat down in the kitchen, old smells embedded in the plaster reminding Henry of different times, unhappier times. His eyes coasted over the stove they had purchased at Sears, the matching refrigerator, the countertop they selected out of catalogue as they sipped sweet tea in the living room and the dark floor laminate that had caused a minor argument. Though the memories were still so vivid, Henry knew not the man who’d fallen in love with Mary all those years ago. Looking at her now, it seemed impossible that he’d had any attraction to her at all. Not enough to justify the lavish proposal he’d given her, the hundred-thousand-dollar wedding and his commitment. Yet the house still possessed the comforting warmth Henry had fallen in love with when the realtor walked them through for the first time. 

“Would you like something to drink?” She offered.

“No, thanks,” Henry lied, throat still parched from secret nerves.

“Very well. What would you like to talk about? And if you can keep it speedy, I’d appreciate it. I have an appointment in forty-five minutes.”

Henry sighed and rolled his knuckles on the kitchen table as she took the adjacent seat. “Why did you change your mind? I thought we had this all sorted out. You get the house, the Lexus, the boat and half the money from the cottage sale. It’s enough for you to retire on, Mary. Why are you coming after the condo now? And the Beamer? You don’t even like the thing.”

Mary pursed her lips. She had thought about this conversation many times in the last few days, and how it might play out, as she expected to hear from either Henry or his lawyer at any moment. What she didn’t expect was her husband to show up at the door, appearing composed and ready to have a mature discussion. But he didn’t know the truth yet, and she suspected, once she revealed it, Henry’s calm demeanour might shift.

“Did you not read the letter? I thought it was quite clear.”

A tendon in Henry’s neck pulled as he snorted and shook his head. “Infidelity. You think I cheated on you.”

“I know you cheated, Henry.”

“I’d like you to explain how you came to that conclusion.”

Mary pushed her chair out to cross one leg over the other, hands clasping around her knee as she gave a sarcastic smile. Henry rolled his eyes at the smug display, waiting for her to get comfortable.

“Witnesses. Timelines. Footage.”

“Footage?”

“After you kicked me out of the condo, I hired a private investigator.”

“We were already separated by then. You can’t hold that over me. It will never play out in court,” Henry explained.

Mary sniffed, flashing delight in her eyes at the chance to prove Henry wrong. “See, I thought so too, but then I started digging a little deeper, asking around, and lo-and-behold, I made the connection. It’s your assistant.”

Henry went pale. Mary’s smirk spread into a full-blown smile.

“Ah, there it is. You were always a terrible liar, Henry. That’s right. I know it’s her. I have irrefutable proof now.”

“No, that’s impossible. I started seeing her after we separated. And there’s no rule against me having a relationship with her. Yes, it may be frowned upon at work, but it’s not against policy.”

“You sure you don’t want that drink, Henry?” Mary asked, getting up to get herself a bottle from the fridge.

“I want you to tell me exactly how you think you have me cornered.”

Mary sat down at the table, looked at her watch, and then sighed. “Well, after I went to the condo to get some things and I saw the state of the place, that’s when I knew you had at least had a woman over. And yes, we were separated, but nobody knew at the time. You were still keeping it hush-hush. So, as I said, I hired a PI to find out if you were seeing somebody. At first, I heard nothing from the investigator. You two were diligent. But then, you slipped up in the parking lot on your way into work one morning.”

Henry knuckled the table, scoffing at what Mary had to say, though his heart hammered a dent in his chest. “That still won’t hold up. We. Were. Separated.”

Mary’s pointed smile disappeared in an instant. Her eyebrows came together, and the delight on her face melted into cold disdain. Henry saw that expression many times, suffered under the weight of it, and it always sent a shiver down his back. 

“Oh, it will hold up,” Mary assured. “Because you made one colossal mistake.”

“Is that right? What, kissing my girlfriend because I was finally happy and in love?”

“No, you nitwit. We went to the benefit. Hundreds of our friends and colleagues saw us together. Theo and his wife sat with us all night and can confirm we were very much together. Couple that with the photos of you grabbing her ass and shoving your tongue down her throat in the lot at work, and you’re screwed. Looks like cheating to anyone but you.”

“Why the hell are you doing this to me? Did I not treat you right for our entire marriage—give you everything you ever wanted and more? I made sure you got the upper-class life and all the expensive little trinkets to go along with it. I did anything you asked of me. But still, any time I have even the smallest flame of happiness, you have to snuff it out! Why are you such a... Such a fucking bitch?”

The insult echoed through the kitchen and rattled in Mary’s head. Her eyes flared. “So you admit it then? You cheated.”

“I’d been miserable for a year and a half, Mary! After trying so hard to get you to come back to me, I was bound to give up. You despised me—you still do! And even after all this bullshit, you still won’t tell me why you treated me like a doormat for all those years.”

“I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

Henry threw up his hands. “Of course, you don’t! You’re not accountable for any of this, are you? You’re just a poor little victim! You’re so opposed to me finding happiness that you had to resort to hiring some idiot to follow me around!”

“Even if I didn’t hire somebody, I already knew. I knew it was her, too.”

“Oh, yeah? And how’s that? Did you hire someone to follow her around as well?”

“Your grandfather’s pen.”

Henry tweaked his mouth to the side, fluttering his eyes and shaking his head. “What about it?”

“You never let anyone touch it. You kept it on you at all times. Even during our happiest years, you wouldn’t have parted with the damn thing. Not even if I asked to use it. The day I came into your office—after my suspicions were already high—I saw her using it. And then I remembered her face. I’d seen her before. She used to work at the hotel we always stayed at across the city. That’s where you met her.”

Henry dropped his face into his hands, sighing through his fingers. He stayed that way for a long moment; the jumbling thoughts in his head creating fuzzy chaos. Mary had succeeded. He could deny it, but Henry was sick of the lies. Sucking a breath through his nose, he finally looked back up at Mary, his eyes bleary from pushing his palms into them.

“I fucked her in that hotel. In my room. I picked her up from the bar after we drank a tonne, and I fucked her. I ate her pussy all night, and, God... She fucked me like I’ve never been fucked before. And when I went to that big conference in Paris after I asked for a divorce, I flew her out to see me there. I’ve never had my cock sucked that well before. And you know what else? I think... Once we sign the divorce papers and you take everything I’ve earned, I’ll ask her to marry me. We won’t have shit, but I know I’ll be a thousand times happier with nothing but her than I ever was having everything with you.” 

“You’re disgusting.”

“No, you’re the disgusting one! You had every chance in the world to make it right with me, but you drew out my pain like it got you off.”

A gaping silence pervaded the room. Henry felt beads of sweat emerge on his back, and he swallowed, regretting his refusal of the water Mary offered. Stunned by his brash admissions, she stared at the table as though what she would say next was written in the spalted wood. The pulse in his neck choked off any more confessions, though he longed to watch her blanch from across the table a little more. Only the humming of the refrigerator filled the silence.

Mary drew in a shaky breath. “Leave her.”

The two words bounced around Henry’s head for a second before he chuckled. “Never. I love her.”

“Leave her, and I’ll drop this. We can go back to fifty-fifty.”

Henry pushed his chair out swiftly, and rose to his feet, leaning over the table so far he came a foot away from Mary’s face.

“Fuck. You. I’ll see you in court.”