Burning Desire:A Tale of Love and Betrayal

Morning came faster than I wanted it too.

The silence after Derek's departure sat heavy on my shoulders. The hum of the ceiling fan above seemed louder than ever, like a lonely song echoing through the room. I looked at the necklace he'd just given me, gold, delicate, beautiful. But it felt like a bandage over a deep, invisible wound.

Why was it always gifts and silence instead of presence and passion?

I moved toward the mirror and studied myself, my reflection staring back with tired eyes and lips that hadn't smiled for real in weeks. I was still the woman he said he loved, still the one who waited for his return, still the one he kissed like a habit. So why did I feel like a placeholder?

I touched my lips absentmindedly, remembering the faceless man from my dream. How strange, that a ghost made of fantasy could leave me feeling more desired than the man I shared my bed with every night.

Maybe I was losing myself, slowly, painfully, like a house whose foundation was beginning to crack.

The next morning, I woke to silence again. Derek was gone, just like he said he'd be. His side of the bed was cold. His scent had already begun to fade.

I rolled out of bed and reached for my phone, scrolling aimlessly. A message popped up from Allison: Still up for coffee later? I miss your chaotic energy. Actually she was replying to the 'I got a gist for you' message, I dropped her last night. Maybe she was screwing one of the many men she met at the club, that explained the late reply.

A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. She always knew how to pull me out of myself. But a small seed of guilt took root, because even though she'd warned me about Derek, I never listened. I never wanted to.

Me: Yeah. is 11 still good?

Allison: Perfect. Spill everything.

I sighed. Today, maybe I would. Maybe I'd let it all out. The sex that left me emptier, the kisses that felt like apologies, the promises that always tasted like dust. Maybe today, I'd say the things I was too afraid to hear myself admit.

I dressed in silence, avoiding anything that smelled like memory. I chose a deep wine-red wrap dress, the one that clung to my curves and made me feel like I mattered, if only to myself.

By the time I arrived at the café, Allison was already seated, stirring her matcha with a kind of elegance I'd always envied. She looked up and gave me that familiar grin, the one that saw through everything.

"Well, if it isn't the woman of the hour," she teased, gesturing to the seat across from her.

"I look like a mess," I muttered, sliding into the chair.

"No. You look like a woman who needs to say things out loud. Start talking," she said, voice softening.

And so I did. I told her about the dream. About the ache. About Derek's coldness, his distracted kisses, his promises that came wrapped in expensive guilt.

By the time I finished, her face had shifted from playful to pained.

"Jacqueline," she said slowly, "I've been trying not to say this again, but you deserve more. You deserve someone who sees you, not just the version of you that makes them comfortable. And honestly? I think Derek is already somewhere else. Maybe not physically, but emotionally...he left a long time ago."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "You think he's cheating?"

Allison didn't answer immediately. She reached across the table and took my hand. "I think you already know. And that's the part that hurts the most."

I blinked hard, trying to keep tears from falling. My phone buzzed on the table between us. A text from Derek: Landed. Talk later. Love you.

Three words that felt like a lie.

I looked at Allison. "What if I walk away and I'm wrong?"

She gave me a sad smile. "And what if you stay, and you lose yourself completely?"

The ache between my thighs was gone now, replaced with a hollowness deeper than desire.

Because it was never really about the sex.

It was about being seen.

Wanted.

Cherished.

...

"Hey, baby," Allison said, squinting into her screen, clearly searching for my face.

"Oops! Holy moly, girl, what's with the look?" she added the moment I appeared.

"Well, that's what you get when you decide to call someone this early," I replied, running my fingers through my tangled hair.

"Hope you don't give Derek a panic attack one day with that face," she laughed.

Speaking of Derek... "Where is he, by the way? Hope he's resting well from his trip?"

"You foodie," I said instead, eyeing the pack of crispy chips sitting pretty in her hand, partly as a distraction from the Derek talk.

She smiled sheepishly and shoved more chips into her mouth. I recognized that look, her usual tactic when I tried to sidestep any Derek-related conversation.

" girl....." she said, her eyes narrowing at me.

"Wh...what?" I stammered.

She kept her gaze locked on mine, waiting me out.

"Okay, okay... you win," I surrendered, voice tinged with disappointment. "He's away on another business trip."

"Again?!"

I nodded. "Yes, again."

Allison's tone shifted, her voice more serious now. "This is like the tenth business trip in the past two weeks. Why is he suddenly always traveling?"

"There's this contract the company's pursuing," I began, struggling to make the explanation sound convincing even to myself. "Since he's the branch manager, he has to be the one to convince the contractors. And besides... this trip was kind of a last-minute thing, so..."

I trailed off, hoping it sounded more logical out loud than it did in my head.

Allison wasn't convinced. "Jac, are you sure you still want to go ahead with the wedding,with all these impromptu trips?" she asked, her words laced with concern.

I let out a soft sigh. "Yes. The trips are temporary, they won't last forever. And besides... being married might actually be an advantage. Maybe it'll give him fewer excuses to disappear."

Hopefully.

"If you say so," she replied, though her voice was far from convincing.

"Yup... that reminds me. The designer called, and I have a fitting scheduled this weekend. Hopefully the final one. I want you to come with me."

I added quickly, "That is, if you're available."

"Of course I'll be available! Another trip to the wedding dress shop with my gorgeous bride-to-be best friend? Count me in. Who knows, luck might smile on me and my Prince Charming will walk in, slow-motion style."

I laughed. "A Prince Charming in a bridal store?"

Allison always said that on all dress-fitting appointments. As hopeful, and maybe desperate, as it sounded, she wasn't exactly rushing to settle down. If she really wanted to, she could've had any of the men around her. But she turned them all into nothing more than 'sex toys,' as she jokingly called them.

"Since Derek's out of town and it's Friday-TGIF," she said with a wink, fully aware that in her dictionary, Friday meant one thing: club night.

"Let me grab a cup of coffee," I said, pushing to stand.

"I'll get a glass of whiskey," she said. Honestly, it wouldn't even surprise me at this point if she had whiskey and chips for breakfast while the orange-red moon was still trying to decide whether to make room for the sun.

Then came a voice.

"Hey, sugar, Daddy needs you," a man called out from Allison's end.

My eyes widened in disbelief. I stared at her through the screen.

She just winked, slowly curling her tongue around her lips with a seductive grin.

"Who was that?" I mouthed silently.

"Daddy's waiting," the voice came again, deeper this time.

Allison sprang up from the couch like someone had just poked her with a feather. She blew me a kiss. "Morning glory calls," she whispered, cupping her boobs in her hands.

"Go away, silly head," I laughed.

"Get yourself a man," she teased with a wink.

"I have a man," I shot back.

"Naughty girl."

"Have a good day," she waved.

A smile tugged on my lips as I ended the call.

I picked up my phone and typed:

Hey, love. I haven't heard from you, hope you're okay? Please reply as soon as you can. I tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail.

Still staring at the screen, I held on to a fading hope for a reply from my fiancé, one that didn't seem like it was coming.

Then my phone buzzed with a notification. A message from Calvin that reads:

I'll pick you up in an hour.

Huh. I sighed, glancing at the time,6:15 a.m. on a calm yet quietly chaotic Friday morning.