The Stranger In My Bed

Clara’ POV

I left Dr. Monroe’s office. Tears striking down my cheeks, my vision blurry.

I couldn't explain it but the knot in my chest was something too hard for me to handle.

The air outside was heavy. It's weight pressing down against my skin as if mocking the emptiness inside me.

The doctor's words kept echoing in my head…“I’m sorry, Clara. You’re not pregnant.”

And then the cycle started all over again.

That pregnancy was my last straw. My last hope in saving my marriage.

A hope I had carried like a fragile flower in my heart. Dreaming, longing for the day I’d hold a tiny life in my arms.

Thinking that Ethan’s mother would smile at me. That Ethan himself would cherish me like before.

Now that dream was gone, crushed before it even had the chance to bloom.

As the driver stopped in front of our home, I wiped my tears with the back of my hand as I steadied myself. My heart a bleeding mess. My emotions spiraling.

My hands shook as I closed the door and glanced at the house I and my family lived in.

A house that was once a prison yard for me. Same house I had fought for my marriage and succeeded. My husband gazed at me with affection. My son looked at me and smiled. Now it was worse than before.

And I didn't know how to solve it.

I walked towards the door only to find it open.

That was strange. Truly strange. Ethan had never been the type to leave the door unlocked when he left.

We both took safety precautions seriously. And this was the one thing that we both never neglected.

I paused for some seconds before stepping inside, my heels clicking softly against the tiled floor.

“Ethan?” I called, but my voice came out small, broken and weak.

No one answered.

The silence pressed on me, thick and suffocating. I could only hear the faint hum of the air conditioner. The ticking of the wall clock and nothing else.

I walked towards the hallway. My eyes scanning through the every room in the house.

Everything was in order. The throw pillows, the framed wedding picture of Ethan and me smiling like fools in love.

Nothing seemed out of place. But why did it make me feel tense. Fear. Anxiety all at once.

Moving towards our bedroom. I finally knew what was wrong.

I heard it. I doubted what I heard but I wasn't a fool. His grunts of pleasure. Her moans. The smacking of skin against another.

A mix of pleasure and something raw. I wasn't new to that sound. That was the sound I heard when Ethan claimed like the stranger I doubted. Like the new man who had graced my marriage after that same accident.

I didn't want to believe it. But then I heard his name on her lips.

“Ughhhh…. Just like that… Deeper Ethan… Faster”

My heart dropped.

Then another sound followed. A man’s voice. Deep and Familiar. Groans of a man and a woman reaching their orgasms.

“Argh, fuck me harder, Ethan.”

My blood turned cold.

No. That couldn’t be what I am thinking, I must be dreaming.

But the sounds kept coming…moans, gasps, the wet rhythm of skin slapping against skin.

My stomach twisted as my knees wobbled making me lose my balance had I not held onto the wall. The world around me seemed to stop as I pressed my trembling hand against the wall to steady myself.

“You like it, don't you? Me drilling this pussy and leaving my seed inside you. Such a slut. My slut” I heard Ethan say as his thrusts increased.

“Oh yes, baby. Just like that… Fuck me like that… Go harder!” the woman moaned back. Her whimpers filling the air.

Each sound stabbed into me like a knife. My mind screamed for me to walk away. To run far away. So far that I wouldn’t hear it…

But my body betrayed me. I moved slowly, step by step toward the door. My pulse pounding in my ears.

And then the stench hit me. Sweat, sex and cum scents filled the air.

With a shaking breath, I pushed the door open.

And what I saw made me wish I hadn't come back home at all.

Ethan. With another woman. My husband, was on top of another woman.

His back flexed with every thrust, his hands gripping her thighs. Her legs were hooked over his shoulders, her nails clawing into his skin.

They didn’t notice me at first; lost in the throws of lust and passion.

While I breathed in their betrayal.

Then Ethan turned slightly, and his eyes met mine.

He froze.

I couldn’t breathe. It all felt like a dream.

And then I saw her face.

Juliet. His Aunt, his mother's sister that babysitted him when he was a kid.

The woman I had welcomed into our home so many times. The woman who smiled politely at me was fucking with my husband.

Beneath him. Hickeys marred against her fair skin as if it were a treasure map.

I felt my breath cut short. My throat tightened until it hurt to breathe.

My mind screamed that this was a nightmare, that any moment I’d wake up…but I didn’t. It was real.

My husband's dick, buried in his aunt's pussy. My husband… His dick… Another woman… Our bed.

Ethan jerked back, pulling out from her, screaming as he was about to come, Julie immediately shouted.

Fuck!

“What the hell are doing here you bitch! Are you insane?”

I couldn't find my voice for a second, but there was no shame in Juliet's eyes.

She sluggishly reached for the bedsheet, wrapping it around herself as she stood.

Her lipstick was smeared, her hair wild, her skin flushed. She didn’t even flinch under my gaze.

“Ethan tell me this isn't true. Please” I begged. I would do anything, give up anything inorder to erase what I just saw.

But his silence made the cut of the betrayal run deep.

“What the hell is going on here, Ethan?” I screamed. Near to the brink of losing my sanity.

My voice cracked. Anger and pain the only emotions I was now capable of feeling.

“You and your Aunt. In out home. In our matrimonial bed”

I then turned to Juliet, trembling.

“And you… How could you do this? He’s your nephew for goodness sake. I trusted you. How could you do this?”

“Answer me, how long?”

Juliet rolled her eyes, struggling with her oddings as she tried to put it on as if nothing happened.

“Enough,” she snapped. “You just ruined our moment. Do you even know what you just did? We were right there…at the sweetest part, and now he’s not even in the mood anymore.”

My mouth fell open in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable,” I whispered.

“Listen to me, Clara,” Ethan cut in sharply, his voice cold, his eyes full of something I couldn’t recognize.

“I do not owe you a single explanation in my house. So don't think for a second you can waltz in here anytime you like and question me. And if I hear about this outside, I swear I’ll deal with you.”

I stared at him, whatever left of my heart shattered more. This wasn't my Ethan. This wasn't the Ethan that promised me that no matter which turn we take in the future, he would always be loyal. The stern look of disgust and anger marred on his face was all I needed to know.

This was the Ethan that survived that accident. The new man who had graced my marriage after he woke up from a coma. The Ethan who didn't give a shit.

Juliet bent to pick up her heels, slipped them on, and adjusted her blouse. She gave me a smug look as she brushed past, her shoulder knocking against mine.

The scent of her perfume filled my nose, and I nearly gagged.

Ethan followed her out, buttoning his trousers in a hurry. The door slammed behind them, leaving only silence.

I felt whatever willpower left in me evaporate as I slumped on the floor.

The pain in my chest made me feel like it would snap into two. I glanced at the sheets that were still tangled. The air still heavy with their scent. Every corner of the room felt tainted.

The tears I had been holding in broke out. The memories crashed into my head all at once. My marriage, our fights, the day I gave birth to Ryan, the day Ethan finally opened up to me. The accident, the new Ethan, the harsh one. The one who just cheated on me.

My husband had cheated on me. And worse, he acted like it was normal.

And it made me wonder, when will I ever be enough for them?