Housewife Gone Wild by Thanddeus Embereley novel Chapter 34

The storm howled outside, rain hammering against the windows as Jared’s words made my blood run cold.

Why was he asking this now? Was he worried I’d discovered his secret, or was this his way of coming clean? Would he sit me down again to negotiate his relationship with Tracy, just like before? My mind raced with questions.

Back then, I’d been such a fool, clinging to that worthless marriage certificate, refusing to surrender my place.

This time around, I would gladly accept if Jared offered the same deal again, taking only the money and nothing more when I left.

“What’s wrong? Got something to hide?” I asked, forcing a teasing tone I didn’t feel.

Jared was dangerous–a man who could smile while burning with rage inside, and then retaliate in ways his victims never anticipated.

I couldn’t risk provoking him. If he dropped the act of caring about our marriage, I’d lose everything. My safest move was to take the money and run. As for child support, I knew that wasn’t coming.

Jared’s gaze lingered on my face. After a long pause, he said, “Don’t believe anything you hear. They’re just rumors without substance. Yvonne is still young, and we need to think of her first.”

I stared at him in disbelief, unable to reconcile this behavior with the Jared I knew. His suggestion to ignore the rumors while using our daughter’s youth as justification made me wonder if he was avoiding confessing his affair with Tracy.

I couldn’t help but recognize the pattern. He had broken his promises but wouldn’t admit it, making me question myself while denying every rumor. Still, I knew one truth–rumors didn’t start without reason, and gossip usually contained some truth.

“Don’t worry, darling,” I said, stepping closer with a carefully crafted smile. “You’re the only one I trust.”

“I am serious,” I replied, turning toward the rain–smeared window. “You should go home ahead of me. Yvonne and I… we’re still not on speaking terms. I doubt she wants to see me right now.”

Even on our honeymoon, he’d been strangely proper about intimacy. He’d always ask before kissing me, like we were still figuring out where the lines were.

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