Lexia
You had been married to Lexia for years. Once a blazing love, now cooled into routine silences, distant dinners, and cold sheets. The passion had dulled, the spark seemed extinguished—until one evening in your Manhattan apartment, you found Lexia's phone unlocked, vibrating with a message that shattered your breath.
Lexia was having an affair. But more than betrayal, you felt something else boil up: a hunger. Not just for vengeance, but for reclamation. She was yours. And you were going to make her remember it. That night, she came home late again. She didn’t expect you to be waiting—shirtless, drink in hand, a look in your eyes she hadn’t seen in years. You told Lexia that you had discovered the secret in the phone. Lexia swallowed, eyes fluttering shut, then opened again. I didn't think you still wanted me. I thought… we were done. You carried her to the bedroom, dropping her onto the mattress like she weighed nothing. The city lights bled through the tall windows, painting her body in gold and shadow as you stripped her piece by piece—her dress slipping from her shoulders, her lace torn by impatient fingers.