Chapter 3 #3
She tried to let it go. Tried to focus on the laundry, on prepping Jake Jr.’s uniform for practice, on the growing list of things she always handled without complaint.
But her chest felt tight. Her instincts buzzed like a static warning just under the skin.
And then there was Rachel. Her tone yesterday on the phone. Too cheerful. Too involved.
Kylee chewed the inside of her cheek and made a decision before she could talk herself out of it.
She called the sitter again.
“Hey, Lillian. Are you free this afternoon? I know its last minute, but I just need to run a quick errand. Nothing too long.”
Lillian was sweet, always eager for extra hours. “Of course! I can be there in twenty.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
By the time she hung up, Kylee was already halfway to her closet. She didn’t dress up just a sweater, jeans, and boots. Simple makeup. A spritz of perfume. She didn’t want to look suspicious. She didn't want to raise questions.
She just needed to see. To know that she was overthinking. That everything was fine. To know she could come home, laugh at herself, and let the unease finally fade. The knot in her stomach told her the truth. She just didn’t want to believe it yet.
The sky was pale and overcast, the kind of muted gray that pressed against the windshield like fog. Kylee drove in silence, the radio low, and her fingers tapping the steering wheel in a nervous rhythm.
She didn’t know what she was expecting or what she was even looking for. But stopping by the clinic with no warning felt suspicious. She didn’t want to be that wife. The one who didn’t have trust.
Still, her gut kept twisting. You’re being dramatic, she told herself for the fifth time. He’s working. That’s all.
As she passed the small café on Pine and River, she turned in without thinking. If she showed up with coffee, it wouldn’t look strange. It would look sweet and thoughtful. Like she just wanted to say hello. Like any wife would.
The warm scent of espresso and vanilla filled the tiny shop. She ordered his usual dark roast, extra oat milk, 7 raw sugars and a tea for herself.
By the time she stepped back into the cold air, cups in hand, her heart was hammering.
She hoped he’d be surprised. She hoped he’d be happy. Mostly, she hoped this would calm whatever fear was screaming just beneath her skin.
The clinic was just ten minutes away now. A straight shot down the road. Kylee had never felt less sure of where she was going.
She sat in the parking lot for a moment, the two coffees warming her hands, her eyes fixed on the door. Her heart beat faster than she wanted to admit.
You’re just dropping something off, she told herself again. You’re his wife. This is normal. And it should’ve been. But something didn’t feel normal.
She glanced at herself in the rearview mirror, hair freshly done, a bit of gloss on her lips, cheeks still holding a soft flush. She looked good. She wanted to believe that would matter.
Taking a deep breath, Kylee stepped out of the car, clutching the drink tray carefully. The air was brisk, her boots tapping softly as she made her way to the side entrance. She had the door code of course she did and punched it in without hesitation.
The hallway smelled faintly of antiseptic. The walls were calm, painted a muted gray with framed before-and-after photos lining the corridor. Everything was quiet. Too quiet for early afternoon.
The reception desk was empty.
No Rachel.
No patients in the waiting room.
She heard voices that weren't professional.
One of them was Jake’s.
The other…..
She didn’t want to name it yet.
The coffee cups trembled slightly in her hand.
She took a step closer. And then another.
Down the hall. Past the supply closet. Around the corner toward his private office the door was cracked open.
Kylee reached out with her free hand, fingers brushing the wood grain.
Inside, she heard movement.
She watched from the door that was cracked open.
She saw Jake’s hands were on Rachel’s hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he was punding into her with a rhythm that was both urgent and desperate.
Rachel's head was thrown back, her mouth open in a silent cry, her eyes squeezed shut as she rode the wave of pleasure that threatened to consume her.
The air was thick with the sounds of their passion: the creak of the desk, the slap of skin on skin, and the soft, urgent grunts that escaped Jake's lips with each thrust.
Rachel's hands gripped the edge of the desk, her nails digging into the wood as she met each of Jake's thrusts with a movement of her own.
Her body was a symphony of sensation, every nerve ending singing with pleasure.
She could feel Jake's hardness filling her, stretching her, and the sensation was almost too much to bear.
Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, and she could feel the orgasm building, a tight coil of pleasure deep within her.
"You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice rough with desire. "You like the way I'm fucking you, the way I'm filling you up."
Rachel's response was a moan, a sound that was equal parts pleasure and desperation. "Yes," she screamed.
And then, just as Rachel was on the brink, just as she was about to surrender to the pleasure, there was a sound. A loud, unmistakable sound that cut through the haze of passion like a knife. The sound of a coffee cup hitting the ground, the ceramic shattering into a thousand pieces.
Jake froze, his body rigid as he listened to the sound, his mind racing as he tried to process what had just happened. Rachel's eyes snapped open, her body going still as she realized that they were no longer alone.
The office door stood ajar, a crack of light spilling in from the hallway beyond. And standing in that crack of light was Kylee, her eyes wide with shock, her face pale as she took in the scene before her.
For a long moment, no one moved, no one spoke.
The only sound was the sound of Rachel's ragged breathing, the sound of her body slowly coming down from the edge of orgasm.
Jake's eyes met Kylee's, and in that moment, a thousand unspoken words passed between them. Words of shock, of betrayal, and guilt.
Kylee's eyes flicked to Rachel, taking in the disheveled state of her clothes, the flush of her skin, the way her lips were swollen from Jake's kisses. Slowly, her eyes narrowed, her expression hardening as the truth sank in.
"Jake," she said, her voice barely audible, but filled with a quiet intensity that made both Jake and Rachel freeze. "What the fuck is going on here?"
Rachel stepped back instinctively, tugging her dress higher over her chest, face blotched with heat and shame. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Jake stood behind her hair tousled, shirt half-buttoned, and belt dangling from the loops of his slacks. His face went pale, all the blood drained from it in a single heartbeat.
“Kylee” he started, taking a step forward.
“No. Don’t you fucking dare?” Her voice was sharper now, trembling from the weight of fury she had no room left to contain. “Her hand shook at her side, not from weakness from restraint. From holding back the scream building in her chest.
Rachel glanced at him, then at Kylee, her wide eyes darting like a trapped animal’s.
Kylee turned on her with a look that could’ve burned skin.
“Do not look at me like you’re the victim,” she snapped. “You answer my phone calls. You’ve seen pictures of my babies. And this is what you’ve been doing behind my back?”
Rachel’s face twisted not quite shame, not quite remorse. Just fear.
Kylee looked back to Jake. Her voice dropped, thick with disbelief. “I got your favorite coffee,” she whispered. “Stopped at the café. Put extra sugar in it like you like. I was on my way to surprise you. What a joke!”
“Kylee,” he said again, his tone soft, like the tenderness could rewind time. “It wasn’t what it looked like!”
Her jaw dropped slightly. Then she let out a breathless, incredulous laugh. “Are you serious right now? Is this the part where you gaslight me into thinking I didn’t just walk in on your dick inside your receptionist?”
“You couldn’t touch me for weeks, Jake,” she said, her voice breaking just slightly now, the cracks spider webbing through. “Couldn’t even look me in the eye after sex. And now I know why. Because you were fucking her!”
“It was a mistake,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”
“Didn’t mean for it to happen like this?! Your right! You didn’t mean to get caught! Was this the first time you fucked her?!”
He didn’t answer.
And that was her answer.
Rachel tried to speak again, but Kylee silenced her with a single look. “Go! Now! Before I forget I have more to lose than you do!”
Rachel gathered her things in silence, eyes downcast, and slipped out the door.
When it shut, the room felt smaller. Kylee stood in the wreckage of their marriage papers scattered on the floor, couch cushions in disarray, the ghost of sweat and sex clinging to the air.
She stared at Jake.
“This wasn’t about sex,” she whispered. “This was about you not seeing me anymore. You don’t see the woman who carried your children. Who stretches herself thin every day so you can come home to peace and warmth! You saw someone who made you feel wanted and you ran to it like a coward.”
He looked down. Guilty. Silent.
She took one last breath. It rattled. And with that, she walked out. Not crying. Not screaming. Just done. The door clicked shut behind her with a soft finality that felt louder than any scream she could’ve unleashed.
Jake stood in the silence she left behind, staring at the space where his wife had just stood where she had unraveled in front of him, not in weakness, but in fury and clarity.
He felt hollow.
His shirt was still undone, the air in the office sharp against his sweat-dampened skin. He didn’t move. The blood that had rushed to his dick earlier now thundered in his ears in a sickening rhythm.