serena

your eyelids feel puffy, swollen from the tears shed last night and the ones that you haven’t let fall today. the mediation has gone on for nearly two hours already and noticing your distress, your legal team called for an early recess.

you never wanted it to come to this. that’s what you continue thinking, as you pad out into the hallway that leads to the restrooms and the elevator back to the lobby. if you’re honest with yourself, where you stand now was purely inevitable. you’ve sat in denial for years and today is merely the culmination of what feels like a lifetime of burying your head in the sand.

you’re trying to prioritize the rational components of your divorce like salvaging your financial independence, the house you made a home, any sense of dignity left in your weakened body. heeseung hasn’t made it easy. you knew he wouldn’t. if you thought he’d be an understanding, compassionate life partner, then you wouldn’t have waited this long. you wouldn’t have needed to involve lawyers.

despite trying to keep a level head, you’ve been an emotional wreck. it’s understandable given the nature of the proceedings but it doesn’t help that heeseung has never made anything easy for you. he knows exactly what buttons to push and as much as he became obsessed with figuring out which ones made you crack, you became addicted to breaking for him.

the building’s air conditioner is on too high for your comfort, shoulders hunching forward as you shiver. you’ve been chewing skin off your lower lip since you got up, without even realizing. the taste of blood meets the tip of your tongue but it’s irrelevant to your senses. the air is stale and it stings in your nose when you breathe, sensitive from crying so much over the last few days.

you hear a door creak open, panic fluttering in your throat and your chest feels tight all of a sudden. you start towards the washroom, seeking privacy. you have an hour to compose yourself and you realize taking a few deep breaths in the hallway isn’t going to be enough.

‘running away again?’ he calls for you and you know it’s him without having to turn your head. yet, you do. you spin around, stopping in your tracks. you’ve been staring at him all morning, or rather, trying not to. yet without the conference table separating you, it feels different. the visceral ache in the pit of your stomach returns, nausea and longing so tightly intertwined that you can’t tell the difference anymore.

you wish you didn’t feel the urge to walk towards him but you know you’re not strong enough to run the other way. he makes the choice for you, like he’s always done, closing the distance with fewer steps than it would’ve taken you. his palm cups your elbow with the exact amount of force someone would use on a wife who he knows isn’t brave enough to draw attention to herself. heeseung’s other hand finds the nape of your neck, fingers curling as if to hold you there, but you both know different. you won’t try to flee.

‘why’re you crying?’ he purrs, shifting to cup your cheek instead, thumb swiping away a tear that slipped. a flaw in your poorly constructed armour. ‘this doesn’t have to change anything, baby, you’re still mine. just say the words, i can make this all go away.’ he soothes, letting go of your elbow to grab your waist, his fingers sinking into the softness there.

you swallow a whimper, forearms pressed towards your chest and fists curled, resisting the urge to lean into him and reciprocate his touch. ‘you’re not supposed to talk to me…’ you murmur. your legal team advised you against contacting your husband in any capacity, much less interacting with him directly. you shouldn’t be alone with him, especially not like this.

the scent of his cologne wraps around you like a cage as he dips his head, nose brushing the curve of your cheek. your nerves feel like they’re on fire. his grip on your waist tightens, his breath feels hot on the sensitive skin of your neck like he’s succeeding in crawling back under your skin. maybe he never left.

‘we don’t have to talk,’ he smirks against your neck, you can feel it, his firm chest colliding with the swell of your breasts as his hips press flush into yours. your nails dig into your own palms, squirming in his grasp because your desire to accept his touch is greater than your will to push him away. you hate yourself for it.

heeseung’s lips part, pressing an open mouthed kiss right below your ear. tingles race down your spine, face heating up as he does it again, dragging towards your jaw. ‘see, we’re not talking.’ he whispers into your mouth as he kisses you, slowly at first. his tongue swipes along your lower lip, the tang of your skin and the salt of his saliva merge. your stomach churns and your fingers spread out, palms splaying across his chest before sliding upwards to loop your arms around his neck.

your brain feels blank. the discomfort in your diaphragm melts into your lower abdomen as your fingers interlock behind his head, trapping yourself against him. when he pulls back for a moment, his exhale becomes your inhale as he tilts his head to connect your mouths again. ‘heeseung…’ you whimper. his tongue down your throat silences your protests briefly.

his hand glides from your waist to wrap around your back, holding you tighter against him. he shifts his feet, pushing you towards the wall so your back rests flush against it. his fingers tangle in your hair, the kiss growing hungrier as his teeth sink into your bottom lip. he grabs your thigh and lifts it slightly towards his hip, opening you up to him a fraction more. the hardness of his erection pressing into your core snaps you back to reality. pain, hurt, and a pinch of rational thought flood your mind, planting your palms against his chest and pushing hard. he barely budges.

‘we can’t do this, hee, i can’t do this’ you protest, a surge of emotion rising in your throat as tears well in your eyes again. you want to, more than anything. you want him to hold you again, to cling to him and never let go but the knowledge of what he did rests heavy between you, the scales forever tipped in his favour.

his grip in your hair tightens, pain blooming where the strands pull tight and you wince audibly, eyes squeezing shut as your nose scrunches in response. ‘is this about her?’ he barks like an accusation, as if he’s not the one responsible for ‘her’.

‘god, you love punishing me.’ he patronizes, eyes rolling and the disgusting flicker of annoyance that crosses his features reminds you who you’re dealing with. who you expected to treat you with love and respect, to uphold the vows he read off a page full of words he didn’t write as your mind had wandered to the conversation you’d had with your parents the night before. a boy. not a man.

‘supposed to be mine..’ you whisper, dark lashes drooping with moisture, unable to meet his gaze as you bare your deepest wound for him to see. it’s still fresh, still bleeding, and you don’t trust he won’t stick the knife right back into it.

‘what?’

your heart clenches. he knows, he just wants to hear you say it.

‘s-supposed…’ your breath shudders, shamefully. ‘be me.. you gave it to her.’

you can’t say it. pregnant. your tongue can’t form the word. it nauseates you. you barely knew her name, let alone who she was. seven digits, one paragraph. ‘just thought you should know.’ funds gone from your bank account. you’d been willing to look the other way. the money is heeseung’s, he’s the one who earned it, his name is on the statements. you’d nearly gotten it off your mind when the notification came through on your phone, every word following the previous making your pulse race higher and your heart sink lower.

heeseung’s nostrils flare he takes a slow, controlled breath as though he’s trying to contain his anger. a reaction he shouldn’t be allowed to have, yet does, because if he’s denied something, that just makes him want it more. you’ve already heard him plead his case. he said he did the ‘right’ thing by sending her money for the procedure. he said he’s the one that convinced her. he said he didn’t tell you because he didn’t want to hurt you, that he hates the way she handled it. that you didn’t deserve that.

‘i know, baby.’ he says, and it catches you off guard. you’re used to accusations, to threats, not wisps of validation buried in layers of manipulation and displaced blame. it tastes sour, but still, you swallow.

‘it should’ve been yours.

—

there’s only the sound of heavy breathing and rustling clothes as heeseung pins you against the inside wall of the bathroom stall. his fingers find the fly of your trousers, undoing the top button first before dragging the zipper down fast.

the tips of his digits glide along the seam of your panties, grazing the heat of your folds hidden beneath. he groans against your neck, pressing firmer until his fingertips part your slickness. he circles your clit once, twice, applying more pressure until your breath shudders and what was left of your composure cracks.

‘hee…’ you moan, eyelids fluttering as he dips lower to tease your velvet entrance.

‘baby… you’re so wet for me…’ he whispers in awe. you feel warmth rush to your face, squirming as he lowers the hand that was holding your waist to your hip. his grip tightens there, halting your movements as he pushes his middle finger just slightly into you.

even through the haze of your arousal, you remember why you’re here. not because you love heeseung, not because you need him more than anything, even though those both might be true. you’re here because he broke an oath, at least once that you can prove, and you found yourself unable to look past it. the wound too deep to heal on its own when he keeps opening it back up every time he looks at you.

‘we don’t have time..’ you mumble, reminding him that you’ve been fooling around for who knows how long during a timed recess.

‘yeah,’ he grunts. ‘you’re right.’ this may be the first and only time you’ll hear those words come out of your husband’s mouth in that order. he flips you around so your breasts are flush with the stall. he shimmies your pants down further, attempting to part your thighs roughly with his palms but when there’s too much resistance he yanks your bottoms down to your ankles.

‘hee, wait- i-‘ your protests get caught in your throat as he pushes in, burying himself halfway. you cry out and he clamps a hand down over your mouth. his hips rock gently, easing himself in a little further before he’s able to finally bottom out. your muscles clench and burn, stretching wide to accommodate his size. your breathing is rapid against his palm, fingers curling against the thin wall as you press yourself against it tighter like you’re trying to escape his cock.

‘stop acting like you’ve never taken me before,’ he grits out, tugging your hips back with one hand so your ass bumps against his pelvis. you sob into his palm. it’s been so long and he’s hitting so deep. your toys don’t reach as far when you’re bundled in bed alone, trying to remember the times he made you feel this way and forget how he broke your heart. ‘you’re always so dramatic, fuck, i can’t…’

you imagine if he hadn’t trailed off that he would’ve said he can’t stand you. you’re left unsure whether he knew well enough to bite his own tongue or was distracted by the way your inner walls tighten around his shaft as he thrusts in, withdrawing just to watch your pussy flutter like its afraid he’ll leave it empty.

he begins to set a steady pace, shallow strokes that leave him panting and make your hips tilt instinctively backwards for more. ‘that’s it, baby, you can take it,’ every few thrusts he plunges deeper, your moans vibrating against his palm but when your cunt starts to pulse around him, he slows down again. you really hate him so much.

‘do you want it?’

you’re not sure what he means at first, mind going numb as he brings you towards the edge of release yet again just to deny you. heeseung’s nose nudges at your jawline, affectionate enough but you know him better than that.

‘yeah, you want it, don’t you?’ his fingers find your swollen clit, stroking the bud just right to make your stomach clench and your knees wobble.

‘here’s what you’re gonna do,’ he grits out between thrusts, hips slapping against your asscheeks obscenely. his rough, intentional movements grow sloppier with each pass of his cock through your pulsating channel. ‘gonna to walk back in there-‘ he muffles a groan into the nape of your neck, clearly holding himself back from reaching his peak just yet. ‘tell them… you made a mistake.’

you did make a mistake, you realize that now. you should’ve held your ground out in the hallway, should’ve never let him get you alone like this. you push back against him, his length hitting your sweet spot just right and it makes you mewl involuntarily. you’re ashamed but that doesn’t mean you can’t finish, too. you ignore his attempt at coercing you into changing your mind, your eyes falling closed as you focus on chasing your high.

‘come on, baby, we could be a family.’ he murmurs against the shell of your ear as his fingers work quicker, coaxing your climax forth a little more before they dip below where you desperately need them again.

you don’t remember why you’re fighting him anymore. your whole body yearns for what he’s been depriving you of, but you can’t even name it. you’re not sure he can ever repair what he’s broken, but you don’t think anyone else can either.

‘o-okay,’ you sob, reaching for his wrist to guide his hand back where you need. he obliges for a few brief strokes before he chooses to wrap his forearm around your waist instead, locking you in place as he fucks into you mercilessly.

‘that’s all you wanted?’ heeseung snarls in your ear as he uses your tight cunt like you’re nothing more than a hole to him. ‘you’re so fucking pathetic.’