Wife Swap

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3

Rome's pov

I stumble into my house with my company on my arm. She is a petite girl with an ass that defies gravity.

As we walk in I find Athena curled up on the sofa watching Netflix in an oversize T-shirt, a long skirt, and socks. These are the clothing I always found her in at her residence, along with another awful sundress that seemed a size too big. I can guess what she is watching. Friends. I share my Netflix account with Mason and I sometimes would sneak a peek into the other accounts' profiles to see what they had on their list and shows they wanted to be notified about when they premiered. European shows are her pleasure.

She has good taste, I will give her that.

Her eyes widen when she sees me and more at my company. I then notice her eyes are red. Probably she has been crying. I look away, this is the third time I have witnessed her crying, and just like the last two. It leaves me uneasy.

"I thought you would be asleep," I speak my thought aloud.

I left in the morning early to avoid her. I was hoping to avoid her again. She makes me feel uneasy being around her.

"Sorry to disappoint you." Her voice cracks.

"Who is she?" My company asks.

"His wife." She is quick to answer with a satisfied smirk.

"You never told me you married." My company accuses.

"Does it matter?" I easily ask. "It is not like we had planned to walk down the aisle," I say annoyed that a question comes out as a nag.

"You should leave," Athena warns.

Wow, I didn't think she had even an ounce of backbone. Assumed she would never oppose anything.

"She will not do such a thing. It is my house." I dare her.

"Leave or I call the police on prostitution charges" She hoists me with my own petard. I watch her unlock her phone, her gaze never meeting mine but waiting for my next step.

"I don't want to be part of this freak show." My companion scouts away.

"Are you happy now?" I turn to her after watching the ass that would have rocked my night bang the door as it swings away.

"Do I look happy, Rome?"

My name rolls off her tongue easily and for the first time hear her say. It comes off like it has been rehearsed, edited, and presented for its final production. I find myself savoring it, I shake my head when I realize what I am doing.

She continues to give a steely look. She always has this stone look and I have never seen her smile. I can also say this is the first I am close to her for an extended time to take in her appearance. She has a tear shape face with light hazel eyes. Her lips pursed as she buries her hand in her hair, which is always in a disheveled bun as if she never combs it.

To many people, she'd be supremely desirable, and I could recognize that she's "hot", but not my type.

"Now that you have thrown it out, tell me, hazel eyes, what makes you happy?" I taught her.

She shoots me a death glare, "What can make that frown turn upside down?" The second time is sincere. I am curious how she looks when carefree with a smile adorning her face.

And I see her think hard.

"It is none of your business." She shakes her head after her resolution.

I want to throw shade at her response, but I decide against it. I scan the area, unsure of what to do; my typical nighttime routine involves unwinding in front of the TV and watching my favorite shows. Unfortunately, I only have one couch, so I don't think we can share it. I don't want to be in a tiny space where we will be near one another.

I begin to move toward my bedroom without saying anything, but she stops me by announcing that she has made supper.

"I am stuffed." I lie. I took alcohol on an empty stomach.

"I am starving and will not eat until you do. Do you want that on your conscience?" She attempts to manipulate me.

"I never said I had a conscience," I say.

"Well and good. As with an empty box, we can begin today by filling it with moral contents such as you not letting me go hungry."

I sigh in defeat, "As you wish."

She places the food on the table and sits across from me. It is pasta with meatballs. It is like she just opted for the simplest to taste the waters first.

"So what is your plan now?" I ask before tasting it

"I am not sure, I guess I will tolerate you until I can go back to my husband." She stuffs food in her mouth after saying.

She chews her food slowly her focusing solely on it.

"You are better off crying right now." I twirl my fork with spaghetti but I am not ready to eat.

"Have you? I am not the only one that got betrayed." She asks. And I have to put on the perfect face before answering. I rather not think about Esme and especially Mason, whom I considered a brother.

That shit hurts and if I invite the thoughts, it drives me into a rage that can lead to me doing something terrible.

"I am sleeping with whoever I want," I reply, feeling more empty.

"Why did you agree to this swap thing if you would just be sleeping with everyone and not trying to forgive and fix your marriage?" Her question holds no malice.

I could go reply with the long whole truth but I doubt she has healed enough to hear it.

"I didn't agree, you did. I played along to save you." I go with the short truth.

"I don't need to be saved by anybody and mostly not by you." She briefly looks up.

The way she avoids eye contact, makes me think that she is two people. The one she pretends and presents to the people and the other hidden true self.

"Ever been to an orgy?" I move to a different topic.

Her eyes grow big with surprise as she stays dumbfounded.

"It is for married couples only and I need you for a plus one," I add at the expense of her silence.

"I am not having sex with you or any other person other than my husband."

"Sex with you? Nah I am good." I shake my head in disbelief.

She is delusional to think I would sleep with her and she still wants to sleep with Mason.

"I have a reputation just so you know." She states as a matter of fact.

I look at her and shake my head. I can't see her as a freak in bed. She must belong to the missionary battalion.

"Esme had signed us up and I am not going to let the chance slip." I finally take a bite of the pasta. It is incredible.

When I look up, I find her eyes on me gauging my reaction to the food. She is such a people pleaser, living for the people's acceptance. I can not pretend not to like it and it pleases her more. I dig in for another scoop.

"Do you want to come? " I ask her after drinking water.

"Mmh?" She raises her eyebrow.

"The orgy." I remind her and the term still shocks her like the first time.

"No." She stands up with her plate.

"Your loss," I say. She keeps her back on me as she starts to wash her plate.

She puts the plate on the rack and turns to me. "I am going to sleep, when done don't leave any dirty dishes in the sink. She leaves before I inform her. I don't wash dishes and I don't do any activity related to the kitchen.

I pick up my phone to find my company for the orgy.
















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