He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

Roxanne extended the wooden frame to Officer Timmons. The glass caught the sharp afternoon light. "Here is the original deed," she said, her voice dropping into a steady rhythm. "Now, please ask him to leave my house."

Officer Timmons stepped forward, his boots crunching on the gravel as he took the frame.

Christian’s gaze tracked the movement, his fingers drumming a frantic beat against his thigh. Roxanne could see the muscles in his jaw working as he tried to calculate his next move.

"No one is throwing me out of my house! Never!" Christian suddenly exploded, his chest heaving under his shirt.

The outburst shattered the quiet neighborhood street. A few onlookers shifted on the sidewalk, and even the two officers exchanged a sharp, wary glance.

Theodore let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "You’ve said that word too many times today, young man, and I think it’s time to correct you," he said, his voice ringing with absolute authority. "This house belongs to one person. Her." He pointed a firm finger at Roxanne.

Christian scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. "Oh, please! You think just because some old man says it, I’m just going to pack up and accept it? Hell no!"

"No, you won’t accept it because I said it," Theodore replied calmly, matching Christian’s heat with ice. "You will accept it because there is proof beyond a shadow of a doubt that you have absolutely no claim to this property."

"Nonsense!"

Theodore didn’t argue.

Roxanne took a deliberate step forward. She looked him dead in the eye. "Not another word, Christian. Just get off my property."

Christian’s brow furrowed as he searched her face. The smugness finally drained from his expression, leaving him looking small. "You can’t be serious, Roxy."

"Oh, I am entirely serious," Roxanne shot back, the sheer exhaustion of the last few years hardening into pure steel. "You said if I showed you proof, you’d walk away. Well, there it is. For once in your life, keep your word and leave."

Christian’s eyes flickered wildly toward the gathering crowd, then to the teenager still recording from the sidewalk. The realization was setting in. He was trapped, cornered in broad daylight in front of the entire neighborhood.

"Just give it up," Roxanne said, her voice dropping to a weary whisper.

Christian’s shoulders slumped slightly. He looked at the officers, then back to Roxanne, his expression suddenly shifting into something soft, desperate, and pleading. "Roxy, come on. You can’t honestly let them do this to me."

Roxanne shook her head, her face an unreadable mask.

Christian took a step closer, his voice dropping into a low murmur meant only for her. "Be smart about this, Roxanne. This man. He’s the real enemy here. He’s just trying to tear us apart. Why don’t we just go inside, lock the door, and talk about this like a family? Just you and me. The way it’s always been."

Roxanne looked at him. Her eyes traveled slowly down his expensive, disheveled clothes, taking in the pathetic desperation of his posture, before rising back to his face. Her heart didn’t even flutter. The old spell was completely broken.

"We will never discuss anything as a family again. This marriage is done," she said, each word hitting like a gavel. "I only want two things from you now. Sign the divorce papers and get out of my house."

Christian shook his head, a panicked look entering his eyes. "Look at me, Roxy. You don’t want this. It’s me. Your first love. The love of your life. You can’t just throw away everything we built."

Roxanne crossed her arms tightly over her chest, drawing a physical line between them. "I’m not throwing anything away," she said curtly. "You are simply facing the consequences of your own choices. There is no talking your way out of this one, Christian. We are over. Leave."

Christian’s breath hitched, his chest rising and falling rapidly. For a single, fleeting second, Roxanne prayed he would take the exit and save whatever tiny shred of dignity he had left.

But then, Christian’s face twisted into an ugly, venomous scowl. The faux-tenderness vanished, replaced by pure malice.

"No one is throwing me out of a house that belongs to me!" he spat, his voice rising to a screech. "Roxanne is my wife! That means whatever is hers is legally mine too! I am not going anywhere. This house belongs to both of us as long as that marriage stands!"

Officers Timmons and Davis exchanged a brief look of disbelief.

Roxanne just shook her head, a pit of pity opening up in her stomach. "You’re delusional, Christian. We are done. How many times do I have to say it? You have no place in my life."

"I am not delusional!" Christian yelled. He whipped around, facing the officers with a manic grin. "Ask her if we have a prenup! Go on, ask her!"

The officers looked to Roxanne.

She kept her eyes fixed solely on Christian. "Stop it," she said quietly. "You’re proving I should have left years ago."

"No, I won’t stop!" Christian shouted, sensing a loophole, his voice booming with triumph. "This house would only be yours if there were a prenuptial agreement, but we never signed one! That means this house belongs to us equally!"

Roxanne clenched her fists so hard her nails bit into her palms.

Beside her, a knowing smile spread across Theodore’s face. He reached down and popped the brass latches on his briefcase once more. The metallic snap drew every eye in the yard.

Christian’s shouting died in his throat. He swallowed hard, his fingers trembling against his slacks as he watched Theodore’s hands. "Why is he smiling? Do you think I’m bluffing?"

Theodore completely ignored him. He reached into the back pocket of the leather case and pulled out a final, blue-backed legal document. He didn’t look at Christian. He kept his eyes entirely on Roxanne, his expression softening.

"Your father wanted to dot every single I and cross every single T, Roxanne," Theodore said softly, extending the paper to her. "He wanted to make sure no one could ever hurt you. Do you remember this?"

She took the heavy paper, and the moment her eyes brushed the signature at the bottom, tears welled up, blurring her vision. "Yes," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat. "I remember. Dad made me sign this trust before the wedding. He said he didn’t want me to be blinded by love and let someone strip away my security."

"Exactly," Theodore said, turning a cold, hard gaze back to Christian. "This property was placed into a protected lineage trust before you ever muttered a single vow. By law, it can only ever be transferred to her direct heirs. It is entirely exempt from marital property. You have zero rights to it."

Roxanne wiped a stray tear from her cheek, swallowed down the lump in her throat, and handed the trust documents to the officers. Timmons and Davis scanned the pages, tracking the legal seals, and gave each other a satisfied nod.

Christian’s face went entirely white, the reality of his total defeat crashing down on him. He opened his mouth, desperate to find one last lie, one last excuse to scream into the afternoon air.

But Officer Davis didn’t give him the chance. The cop stepped across the driveway, his heavy hand clamping down firmly on Christian’s arm.

"Get off me!" Christian said, struggling.

Roxanne’s lips lifted slightly, a small smile forming. "You threw me out yesterday," she said, looking at him. "Today, I’m returning the favor."

Christian opened his mouth to reply, but she turned her gaze to Officer Davis. "Escort Mr. Westbrook off my property."

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!