Lukas by Carian Cole, now you can read online.
IVY
“BABY, I MISS YOU SO MUCH,” his voice is raspy with strained desire.
I press the phone to my ear, my heart pounding, a thin sheen of sweat spreading over my skin.
“I miss you, too, more than ever.” My fingers tighten around the phone.
“Just wait ’til I get my hands on you tomorrow night. You’d better get a lot of rest tonight because you’re going to need it. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’re not gonna be able to walk ’til Monday.”
My breath catches and I cover my mouth with my hand. Tomorrow night. Friday night.
“Oooh . . . let’s just forget dinner and spend the night in bed.”
“Mmm, baby, I like the way you think,” he sighs into the phone. “I better go now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I love you.” My stomach twists into a knot.
“I love you, too, babe,” he says back.
The words are so familiar to me; he’s said them to me thousands of times. But this time, he’s not saying them to me, and that’s not my voice saying it back. I have said them, many times. But not this time.
This time, there’s someone else hearing and saying those words with my husband.
I wait for him to hang up before I gently press the end button and put the phone back in its charger next to the bed, my hand trembling so violently that I almost drop it. Hot tears burn in my eyes and spill down my cheeks. Grabbing a tissue from the nightstand, I dab my eyes and run for the master bathroom as I hear him coming down the hall toward our bedroom.
I sit on the edge of the bathtub, trembling, my mind racing, trying to somehow make sense of what I just heard. It must be some sort of mistake. Or a joke. I did not just hear my husband on our telephone, at midnight, telling another woman he loves her. He’s going to see her tomorrow night.
He misses her.
He loves her.
She loves him.
He’s going to fuck her hard.
I lurch toward the toilet and vomit up eighteen years of trust, devotion, commitment, and love.
Now all I have is lies.