Not yours to love young master

Roxanne's POV

I stare at my reflection for the second time, pressing down the invisible creases on my long black dress. The back has a low plunge, reaching my waist. Reese used to love it in the first year of our marriage. I wonder if he'll notice tonight, or of that part of me is buried with the rest of what he used to love.

When I step out of our room, I hear laughter coming from down the stairs. I stop and frown. My chest pinches, the ache raw and familiar. Rese didn't say anyone was coming with us.

"Do you remember the gold bracelet you got me the last time you were home?" It is a high-pitched tone, honey-sweet. Female. Too comfortable and familiar.

"Yeah," Reese, my husband, responds. "You were all pissed that I left home in the first place, that I knew I had to pacify you when I returned. Now, look who is here."

"Right!"

Their laughter float into the air again, just as I reach the base of the stairs. Her perfectly manicured nails are splayed on his shoulders, and her blonde hair, as always, is styled to perfection.

Camilla St. James.

The ghost in our marriage.

"Oh!" She stops when she sees me, but a part of me knew she must have heard the door close when I got out of the room. "Hi, Roxanne. How are you doing today? Oh my God! You look really exquisite tonight! Love how that dress looks on you."

Compliment dipped in poison.

"Thank..."

"But don't you think the plunge behind is too low?" She slides her nails from Reese's shoulders to his forearm, pinching him slightly. "I don't know. Maybe it is what you like, and if that is the case, then you are free to wear whatever you want. Of course, as long as my best friend is fine with it."

And then, she turns to face him. "Are you fine with it, Reese?"

Reese used to trace that plunge with his mouth. First year love. First year lies.

Camilla's smile is as sharp as claws. "Too low for a married woman, don't you think?"

Heat flares up on my cheeks and suddenly, the plunge feels like a noose, wrapped tightly around my neck. The dress doesn't feel elegant anymore.

Say, nothing, Roxanne. Don't give them a show.

I squeeze my fingers so tight that my wedding band imprints a moon into my skin.

"Actually..." My husband angles his head as he regards me. He leans back a little and then sighs, like he is the victim here. "I think I see what Camilla is saying. Everyone can see the plunge even without you turning around. Doesn't exactly paint the best of reputations for a married woman."

Of course, Reese will take her side. My marriage vows must have come with fine print that states "includes one mistress disguised as a best friend."

"But you used to..." My words die as my husband glares at me.

"I don't love it anymore, Roxanne!" He snaps suddenly, cracking the air. "Can't I change what I like?"

The dress, me, everything...discarded with one sentence. My chest aches. Can love really vanish this fast, or has it been gone all along?

"Don't yell at her, Reese," Camilla croons, patting his back like he is some stray she found on the street. Like I'm the outsider here. "She is your wife and was only trying to make you happy. Excuse her honest mistake."