An Open Marriage Agreement That He Suddenly Refused To Honor Chapter 17

An Open Marriage Agreement That He Suddenly Refused To Honor Chapter 17

A partition of tinted glass separated Ethan and me inside the Rolls-Royce. He sat wreathed in lingering cigarette smoke, his expression shadowed and inscrutable.

He seemed to mumble something under his breath.

But we were too far apart, and I couldn’t make out a word.

I moved out of the house soon after.

Ethan used to stay out night after night, and I’d slowly grown used to living alone.

Lately though, he’d changed completely-coming home sharp on time every single day, like clocking in for

work.

He’d roll up his sleeves and cook as soon as he walked in, then try to sleep beside me at night with a pillow in his arms. I’d been forced to lock my bedroom door to keep him out.

Every morning, the ashtray was piled full of cigarette butts.

Ethan had always been self-disciplined, moderate with smoking.

I’d never seen him let himself unravel like this.

He started bringing up the old days, reminiscing about when we were broke, sharing a simple wrap. He’d talk

about how I used to finish work too late for the bus and was too frugal for a cab, so he’d ride a shared bike

to pick me up every night. I’d cling to him, chattering about everything that had happened during my day.

“We had no money back then, yet we were truly happy,” Ethan said, his tone soft with nostalgia.

I only found it tedious.

I’d rehashed those memories countless times over the years, both to myself and to him.

Bringing them up now felt hollow and pointless.

He truly seemed set on mending us. He handed most company matters over to his assistant and stayed

home around the clock to be near me.

Fed up with his clinging, I packed my bags and moved out for good.

Ethan didn’t try to stop me the day I left.

He only looked quietly dejected.

I was almost at the elevator when he finally spoke.

“Lila, I won’t stop you from seeing him. You can keep him as a casual fling, and I’ll turn a blind eye. Just don’t get a divorce. Please?

I’ll bear every ounce of hurt you’ve endured. Would that make it fair?”

His words came out strained, laced with quiet humiliation.

For someone as proud as Ethan, this was an unimaginable compromise.

“I can’t,” I said, turning back to face him.

“He’s dead set on marrying me.”