Explained for Him, Lost Him

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My husbands little songbird had him on a KPI: twelve nights a month in her bed.

This month, buried in work, he only managed eleven.

So the girl threw a tantruma full day of nothing but tears, refusing all food and drink.

And Alexander, desperate to soothe his precious bird, came begging to me, his actual wife.

"Sandra, please," he pleaded. "Just help me out. Tell her I didn't sleep with you this month. It's just one sentence."

He was right, of course. The intimacy between us had died long ago. Ever since he first cheated three years back, my body had developed a visceral, traumatic response to his touch.

Any time he tried, I would be seized by a suffocating panic.

He tried a few times. I was rushed to the emergency room a few times.

After that, he didn't dare touch me again. He still claimed I was the love of his life, the only one he truly cherished.

But he never stopped cheating.

I dialed the girls number, my voice a calm, flat line.

"Alexander is all yours now. He always will be."

When I hung up, Alexander assumed I was jealous. He tried to placate me.

"You know you'll always have a place in my heart."

But I don't want you anymore, Alexander. Weve been separated for nearly two years. The court will grant the divorce.

But the girl wasn't soothed.

She didn't believe it.

She sent Alexander packing, right back to me.

He returned looking utterly defeated, at a complete loss. He started trying to reason with me again.

I cut straight to the point.

"Alexander, what exactly do you want me to do?"

Seeing me so composed, so devoid of anger, he dropped all pretense.

"We'll get a doctor to check you. There are specialists for this."

"Don't worry," he added quickly, "I'll make sure it's a female doctor. A thorough exam. It's the only way to prove to her we haven't been together recently."

He paused, his voice softening into the gentle tone he used for a child.

"She's just a simple girl, a bit stubborn. This is the only way she'll believe it. Don't take it personally."

He raised a hand, a fond look in his eyes, as if to pat my head.

"You've always been the reasonable one. Not like her, always making a scene."

A wave of nausea churned in my stomach. I recoiled as if from something rotten, putting as much distance between us as I could. A tight band of pain squeezed my chest, and the familiar feeling of suffocation crept in.

My heart had turned to ash for him long ago, but to hear him make such a requestfor his mistresswas like a blade twisting in an old wound.

My revulsion was palpable, as if I were dodging filth. In the beginning, this reaction had wounded him deeply. But after years of it, he'd grown accustomed to it.

Now, fearing he'd make it worse, he took a step back himself.

"Just think of it as a routine check-up," he coaxed gently. "There's no need to stress."

The sickness in my gut intensified. I clutched my chest and let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

"Don't push me too far, Alexander."

"If you want to appease her, just give me a divorce! That would solve everything!"

My voice was raw with fury.

He knew he was in the wrong, so he didn't press the issue. His tone softened again. "Don't say things you don't mean. You're the most important person in my life. You always will be."

"Just calm down."

He always said that.

Always told me I was the most important, right before he went crawling back to her bed.

He was so sure of himself, so confident in his wealth and power, that he thought I would tolerate this degrading triangle. After all, I had fought tooth and nail to become Mrs. Alexander Prescott, beating out a legion of his other admirers.

He was certain I would never give up the life of luxury he provided. What Cinderella, once she's in the castle, would ever want to leave?

He didn't know that this Cinderella had already saved up enough to buy her own damn kingdom.

His phone buzzed, the special ringtone hed set just for Poppy.

The song was called "The Only One."

Even with me standing there, trembling with rage, he answered it.

I could hear Poppy's shrill, tearful voice through the phone.

"Alexander! I was eighteen when I got with you! You're a liar! A heartbreaker! You promised me!"

"You promised! Twelve times a month, and you wouldn't touch the woman at home! That was the deal for being your bird in a cage!"

"You're a fraud! We're done! I'm not giving you another chance to hurt me!"

Of all the women he kept, Poppy was the only one who wasn't afraid of him. She was the most demanding, the most spoiled.

He doted on her completely.

A year ago, when his mother passed away unexpectedly, he, as her only son, was supposed to keep vigil by her casket.

But Poppy got drunk, called him sobbing, and begged him to come to her.

And he did. He left me to keep vigil over his mother's casket while he ran off to comfort Poppy.

That night, she sent me a photo. A taunt.

Hes exhausted. Wore himself out on me all night and fell asleep. Hope youre managing things at home.

I don't know how I survived that night. The pain in my chest was so intense I thought my heart would stop.

Before Poppy, Alexander had been a devoted son.

That was the night I knew. It wasn't just physical anymore. He had given her his heart.

He loved her. Loved her enough to trample all over my dignity.

"You are the bane of my existence!" I heard him yell into the phone, his voice pulling me from my thoughts. "I've told you a hundred times, and you still don't believe me! Fine! I'll have a doctor examine her tomorrow!"

"Will you believe me then?!"

I stared at him. After my furious refusal, he had actually agreed to it, all to placate her.

Early the next morning, Poppy showed up. With a male doctor in tow.

Alexander was shocked. "No," he said, his face hardening. "No male doctors. It has to be a woman."

His jaw was tight, a flicker of jealousy in his eyes. For all his infidelity, he was still fiercely possessive of me. If I so much as spoke to another man for too long, his temper would flare. A classic case of "do as I say, not as I do."

Poppys face soured. "How do I know a female doctor isn't on her payroll? What if you two conspire to trick me?"

He indulged her, as always. "Fine. Find your own female doctor, then. Is that acceptable?"

She pouted but reluctantly agreed.

They were really acting as if I had no say in the matter.

Without a word, I walked straight up to Poppy and slapped her, hard, across the face.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" I hissed, a surge of righteous fury coursing through me. "You're a mistress, a dirty little secret! What right do you have to interfere in my marriage bed?"

To twist the knife, I added, "The reason Alexander missed your precious KPI is because he was with me seven times. The man is exhausted."

The number was a bomb. Poppys face crumpled.

"You see!" she shrieked at Alexander, tears streaming down her face. "She admits it! You're still lying to me!"

Alexander turned on me, his eyes blazing. "What the hell are you talking about? Isn't this chaotic enough for you?"

Poppy, clutching her stinging cheek, ran out of the house.

Alexander immediately chased after her.

But as he ran, he threw a final, ironic order over his shoulder to the housekeeper.

"Make sure my wife takes her medicine."

Ever since my traumatic response to him began, he'd been spending a fortune on various treatments and medications to "cure" me.

"It will get better," he would always say. "Once you're well, we can have a baby."

He didn't know I poured every single pill down the drain.

I was just counting the days until I could finally leave.

On my way to the embassy to finalize my visa, I was intercepted by Alexanders men.

I was dragged back to the villa, restrained, and forced onto a cold, hard examination table.

Five female doctors tied my wrists and ankles down.

As I struggled, one of the doctor's phones rang with a video call.

Poppy's voice filled the room.

"Make sure you check her thoroughly."

"Rest assured, Miss. We're professionals in this field."

"Poppy, you will rot in hell for this!" I screamed, thrashing against my restraints. "And you, Alexander! You'll rot right alongside her!"

I knew he was there, with her.

And then I heard his voice.

"Sandra, Poppy is pregnant. I'm thirty-five. Please don't make this difficult for me."