Heartbreak And Wars

Aloe's POV

I knew something was wrong the moment I heard the laughter, it was coming from our matrimonial bedroom. It wasn't the warm, guarded chuckle I used to pull from Wakes on our better days either.

My fingers froze on the banister, as my pulse crawled up into my throat, pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears.

For a moment, I told myself I was imagining it, that maybe one of the staff was inside,or maybe Wakes was on the phone with a client. But then came the moan that ripped through every fragile excuse I'd been clinging to.

My Wakes was moaning, in his usual deep, and low moan, that particular tone he used when he wanted me. Only this time, it wasn't for me.

My legs moved before my brain could stop them. I pushed the door open, and immediately, my world stopped.

There he was; Wakes Savage, my husband standing shirtless by the bed, his hands gripping the hips of a woman I'd never seen before. She was perched on the edge in nothing but his dress shirt, her lipstick smeared across his mouth like a stain neither of them cared to hide.

I stood rooted at a spot, my eyes already teary. His head snapped toward me, those grey eyes locking on mine, I thought he would maybe hold shock or surprise, but it was filled with irritation, as if I'd just interrupted him signing a business deal.

"Aloe," he said flatly. "What are you doing here?"

What am I doing here? In my own bedroom?

The words I wanted to scream tangled in my throat. My chest felt too tight to breathe, my eyes already stinging. My gaze shifted to her, to the way she smirked like she'd just claimed a prize I'd foolishly left unattended.

I stepped further inside, my voice trembling. "Who... who is she?"

He didn't even blink. "No one you need to know."

The casual cruelty of it hit me harder than if he'd just shouted.

"No one I need to know? She's in our bed, Wakes!"

The woman slid off the mattress with a deliberate slowness that made my stomach twist. She walked past me without a glance.

When we were alone, he picked up his discarded shirt and began buttoning it like I wasn't even there.

"I told you not to come home early," he said.

My hands were shaking so hard I had to curl them into fists. "And you told me you loved me."

His laugh was short and humorless. "Stop being dramatic, Aloe. It's not like you've been much of a wife lately."

That one sentence didn't just hurt, it split something open in me. The last few months of distance, the cold dinners, the excuses, the way he barely touched me unless it was for appearances, it all clicked into brutal, perfect focus.

"I've been trying, Wakes," I whispered. "I've been trying so hard."

"Well, try harder," he said, brushing past