My Husband Wants An Open Marriage by Elysian Sparrow

~~Julie~~

My husband, Ryan, is standing on the karaoke stage, making a fool of himself. His shirt is unbuttoned halfway, his tie long abandoned, and his cheeks are flushed from too much whiskey.

"And I.........will always love you....." he sings, closing his eyes.

His voice is terrible.

Standing next to him, practically glued to his side, is his secretary, Emily. Her left arm is around Ryan's waist, her fingers lightly grazing his back as she sings along. She's younger than me, at least by half a decade, all wide eyes and perfect curves, dressed in a tight, low-cut dress that makes it impossible to ignore her presence. She leans into Ryan, whispering something in his ear, and he throws his head back, laughing. He looks at her like she's the funniest person in the world.

I've never seen him this happy.

The last time I saw him this happy was on our wedding day, seven years ago. Back then, his eyes sparkled when he looked at me. Now, the light in them has grown dimmer; they're shining for someone else. 

Around me, everyone is laughing. It's the company's quarterly review party, and the employees are loose after a few too many drinks, finding Ryan and Emily's performance hilarious. But I know what they're really laughing at. They're laughing at me. The CEO's wife, sitting here while her husband practically gropes his secretary in front of everyone. The whispers, the side glances, they don't even try to hide it.

"Do you think they're going to kiss?" someone whispers behind me.

"Definitely. Bet they'll be doing more than kissing after this," someone else replies, and they both chuckle.

I turn around to look at the people talking. Young, drunk, probably high on weed too. They must be interns. Only people with zero knowledge of the company's hierarchy would make such a statement close to their employer's wife.

Or maybe they just don't care.

The girl, with messy blonde hair and red cheeks, locks eyes with me. "Hi!" she says, a little too loud. "Do you work here?"

Do I work here? My eyes narrow. She's definitely an intern. 

She's pretty, the kind of pretty that comes with youth and arrogance. The boy next to her drapes his arm lazily over her shoulders.

I don't respond. I just stare at them, cold and unblinking.

Before I can say something that would make them regret their existence, I hear my name called.

"Julie!" the voice says, drawing my attention. 

Even before I turn, I know who it is. Samantha, the vice president of marketing. We both work for Paragon Jewels, Ryan's company, the leading manufacturer of luxury jewelry in North America. Her position is just below mine, so she's one of the few who calls out my name like we're friends, even though we're not.

"Samantha," I reply, forcing a polite smile. 

"I didn't know you were here, Julie. I was just telling the marketing team we have to get you involved more!"

"Oh?" I say. "Why's that?"

"Well, you're the head of marketing, and everyone wants to meet you! You're so hard to catch these days. And besides, we never get a chance to chat at work," she says, with an overplayed wink.

Her gaze drifts to the stage where Ryan and Emily are swaying together, sharing the mic, laughing like they're on some private date instead of a work event.

"So, Mrs. O'Brien," she says, smirking, "how are you enjoying the show so far?"

She's mocking me. The fucking bitch.

I force a bright smile. "Oh, it's... fantastic," I say, struggling to keep a straight face. "I'm thrilled to see my husband's hard work is being rewarded with such... dedication from his staff."

The crowd is clapping now, giving Ryan and his secretary a standing ovation. I guess they're done with their nonsense.

But then Ryan speaks into the microphone. "Before we get down, we've got one more song for you!"

More applause. More laughter. And I just want the ground to open up and swallow me.

Samantha looks at me with pity in her eyes. "Well... umm," she says. "I'll catch up with you later."