Perfectly Wicked

We never truly know the people we love. They smile, they kiss, they hold us close—while hiding the blade behind their back. The people closest to us are the deadliest, because they know how to love us, how to hurt us, and exactly where to strike. Nobody ever shows their true face. And when that hidden self claws its way out, it doesn’t just break your trust—it leaves blood in its wake.

"I want a divorce," Asher said flatly, his words echoing in my mind. This had to be a joke—a prank—though I couldn't figure out why he would joke about something so serious. We had been married for twelve years and had three kids together. He wouldn't leave me; not after everything we'd been through. I glanced at the vibrator and smutty novel on my nightstand, hoping he was just messing with me. He had to be.

"Ha ha, very funny. And I want a husband like my book boyfriends," I replied weakly, trying to inject humor into the situation because I didn't know how else to react. There was no way he was asking for a divorce while I sat here in our queen-sized bed, on top of white silk sheets, wearing the revealing black lace lingerie I had bought earlier that day. I couldn't even remember the last time I wore something like this, especially with my stretch marks from having three kids. I wasn't overweight, but I certainly wasn't as tiny as I used to be. I had spent all night shaving, curling my long brown hair, and doing my makeup to boost my confidence because we hadn't had sex in three months. Asher and I never went that long without intimacy, and I was starting to feel incredibly lonely. I needed my husband tonight, this was the last thing I expected.

"I'm serious, Tessa." He threw the red robe that hung by the closet door at me. "You should get dressed so we can talk about this."

Oh no. He was using my full name. He never did that. Was he really being serious right now?

"There's nothing to talk about. This has to be some sick joke, and if it's not, you're probably going through a midlife crisis. We've been together since we were fifteen; whatever the problem is, we'll work it out. Together. Just like we always do." I slipped on the robe and tied it around my waist. He sat on the bed beside me, taking my hand in his. I wanted to pull away, but I couldn't. I had fought so hard for us; I couldn't just give up. At the very least, our kids deserved better than a broken home. I promised myself they would never grow up like I did.

"That's the point. We've been together for fifteen years. That's half our lives. I'm so grateful for our children and for you standing by me all those years when I had a drinking problem. I know I wasn't good to you, and I hate myself for it. Can't you see there's too much bad between us? We can't move on from all the hurt we've been through." He furrowed his brow, a sign he was deep in thought. "We both deserve a fresh start. We both deserve more than this. We haven't had chemistry in years, and neither of us is happy."

"No, you don't get to do that," I glared at him, crossing my arms. "You don't get to assume how I feel. I stood by you through so much, Ash. I worked my ass off so you could go to law school and work at the firm while I raised the kids. I stayed with you through everything—addiction, cheating, and abuse. Maybe we don't have the most exciting life, but I was happy with it. I'm happy raising our children and taking care of our home. I'm happy having a husband who takes care of us and who I'm still attracted to after all these years. You can't throw that all away just because you think we lack chemistry. Jesus, we have a nine-month-old baby sleeping in the next room for God's sake."

His blue eyes softened slightly. "You don't need chemistry to make a baby, Tessa. We both know that. You're not happy; you're just comfortable. There's a difference. When was the last time you felt something when I kissed you? When was the last time you looked at me and got butterflies in your stomach? You love me, but you're not in love with me anymore, and that's okay."

"Stop trying to tell me how I feel! We aren't teenagers anymore," I argued, scooting to the edge of the bed to sit beside him. It took everything in me to remain calm and address this with him when I just wanted to lose my shit. I wouldn't do that though. I worked so hard to get my temper under control over the years and I wouldn't fuck that up now. "After fifteen years, it's normal for those feelings to fade. It's not worth uprooting our entire family and getting a divorce."

"What if I do feel that way again? With someone else?" He looked away, guilt written all over his handsome face.

I sucked in a deep breath, afraid to ask the next question because I already knew the answer. "Do you feel that way with someone else?"

"Yes." He didn't hesitate, didn't even bother to lie.

"Who?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.

"Jade."

His assistant. She was only twenty-one, with blonde hair and blue eyes. I should have known; she had spent the last year following him around like a lost puppy. Why couldn't he just lie to me? I never thought Asher would cheat on me again. He did once, years ago, and he regretted it for years. The realization felt like a dagger to my heart. We both made mistakes over the years, but I thought we were past all of that. We were supposed to be better than this.

"What are you saying? You're leaving me for a woman only nine years older than our son?" Everything around me moved in slow motion. This can't be real. It can't be.

"Yes."

"What in the actual fuck is wrong with you?" I couldn't hold back my anger any longer. My blood boiled. How could he do this to me? To our family?

"Tessa, I know you're hurt. I know you don't want this right now. But in time, you'll see that this is what's best for everyone." He looked me straight in the eye as he said it. He was serious. He was really asking me for a divorce. No, not asking—telling me. I didn't even have a say in this.

"What did I do wrong?" I hated that my voice cracked, but I had to know.

"Nothing," he blinked, running a hand through his short, dirty blonde hair. "We just drifted apart. I got a new apartment; I already signed the papers. It's a three-bedroom, so Carter can have his own room while the girls share one. I'll stay there tonight and come back tomorrow to get my things and talk to the kids with you."

Wow. It was really that easy for him to walk away after twelve years of marriage and three kids. We were young when we started dating, and I got pregnant with Carter straight out of high school, so naturally, we got married. Asher had a drinking problem after his dad died, and even though his family had the means to pay for law school, I had to waitress and bartend for years to support our family. Seven years ago, we moved to Astoria, Oregon, which was the best decision we ever made. My mom and best friend even moved here a couple years ago to be closer to us. I loved our home, our community, and our family. I was happy, and he was ready to throw it all away over some stupid twenty-one-year-old.

I refused to cry. I wouldn't let him see me break. I would be mature about this and hold it together until he was gone. I hated him for doing this, and I hated him even more for looking at me with such pity. There was no love in his eyes. When did he stop looking at me with love? It took everything in me not to hurl the book from my nightstand at him as he got up and walked out the door. I waited until I heard his car pull out of the driveway before I let the tears fall, my heart shattering into a million pieces.