He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

Roxanne reached for her phone on the nightstand, the screen lighting up to reveal the time. 9:00 AM.

A crease formed between her brows as her fingers trembled against the glass, dialing Richard’s number. The call went straight to voicemail.

Her heart hammered an erratic rhythm against her ribs.

Clutching the device tightly in her fist, she grabbed her silk robe, tied it loosely around her waist, and yanked open the door.

Stepping into the quiet hallway, a sudden wave of nausea rolled through her stomach, hot and sharp. She pressed a hand flat against her abdomen, trying to soothe the strange ache.

Where could he be? He promised he’d never leave.

She glanced down both ends of the corridor before hurrying toward the grand staircase, her steps silent against the polished floorboards. Near the landing, a staff member rushed past with a stack of fresh linens.

"Excuse me!" Roxanne called out, her voice tight with rising panic.

The maid didn’t seem to hear, disappearing around a corner without a backward glance. Panic spiked hotter in her chest.

What is happening? Did he leave? But why now, after last night? Her mind whirled, desperately replaying every touch, every quiet confession from the night before, searching for any detail or red flag she might have missed in her haze of happiness.

"Good morning, darling," Mercedes’s voice chimed from the bottom of the stairs, warm and utterly unbothered.

Roxanne froze on the bottom step, forcing a small smile onto her face. "Good morning, Mercedes. Have you seen—"

"Come with me," Mercedes interrupted, waving a delicate hand toward the eastern wing. "He’s been waiting for you."

Roxanne blinked, her hand still resting over her heart. "He’s here?"

Mercedes paused, throwing her a curious, almost amused look before turning down the grand hallway. "Of course he is."

A shuddering breath escaped Roxanne’s lips, releasing the tight knot in her chest.

As she followed the older woman toward a secluded private dining wing, the scent of fresh flowers hit her, rich, sweet, and suffocatingly thick in the morning air.

The overpowering fragrance made her stomach turn again, though she couldn’t tell if it was the perfume of the blossoms or the sheer weight of her anxiety.

Then they stepped through the arched glass doors, and the breath caught completely in her throat.

There he was. Richard stood framed by a sweeping, panoramic view of fog-shrouded mountains, looking impossibly handsome in a relaxed linen shirt and dark trousers. The morning light caught the sharp angles of his jaw, softening the corporate edge he usually wore like armor.

A radiant smile broke across her face as she hurried across the stone tiles. He met her halfway, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her just enough to pull her flush against his chest. She held onto his broad shoulders, burying her face in his neck to inhale his familiar scent.

"Sleep well? I didn’t want to wake you," Richard murmured, his dark eyes softening as he looked down at her flushed face.

Roxanne stood on her tiptoes, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. "I missed waking up beside you," she whispered, pulling back just enough to take in the room.

Brilliant, colorful blooms lined the room, filling every corner with vibrant petals. She looked back up at him, a breathless chuckle escaping her. "What is all this, Richard?"

He held her hand and led her toward a private table set with a lavish breakfast spread, fresh pastries, sparkling fruit, and steaming tea. "Last night wasn’t enough. I wanted you to wake up knowing exactly how precious you are to me," he said, pulling out her chair.

"Why?" she managed to whisper, her eyes instantly shimmering with unshed tears as she felt the effort he’d poured into making her feel cherished.

Richard sat opposite her, bringing her knuckles to his lips for a soft kiss that sent a wave of warmth straight to her toes. "To remind you how much you mean to me. And, I have another reason."

Roxanne’s heart did a flip in her chest. The air in her lungs suddenly felt thin. Is he proposing? Right now? "What reason?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the breeze rustling through the open doors.

"The last time I asked you to be with me, you were still carrying the weight of your past," Richard said softly, his gaze never leaving hers. "But now that Christian is gone and you’re finally free, I wanted to ask you properly. Without any shadows hanging over us."

A stray tear escaped, trailing down her cheek as a smile touched her lips. Off to the side, Mercedes and two staff members quietly pulled out handkerchiefs, dabbing at their eyes in unison.

Richard snapped his fingers, and a small acoustic ensemble stepped out from behind the decorative greenery on the terrace, softly plucking the strings of their guitars to begin a gentle melody.

Roxanne let out a tearful laugh, her chest heaving with overwhelming emotion. "Oh, Richard..."

He held her hand tightly across the table, his expression completely open, completely bare of any defense. "Roxanne, will you let me love you openly this time? Will you be my woman? I promise to give everything I have to keep you safe, cherished, and happy."

She sniffled, using her free hand to wipe her damp cheek. "Why do you love me so much?" she asked, her voice cracking under the weight of a tenderness she was still learning to accept.

Richard smiled, a slow curve of his lips as he pressed another lingering kiss to her skin. "Because when I picture the rest of my life, Roxanne, you’re in every single version of it."

Fresh tears blurred her vision, her breathing shallow as the immense weight of his devotion settled over her heart like a warm blanket. The fear of being unloved, of being disposable, melted into nothingness.

But before she could utter a single word, Mercedes let out a loud, shuddering sob, weeping openly into her handkerchief.

Richard and Roxanne both turned toward her, breaking into quiet chuckles.

"Keep it together, Mercedes," Richard teased softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Mercedes nodded frantically, waving them off as she wiped her face, laughing through her tears. "Go on, go on!"

Roxanne squeezed Richard’s hand, her smile brilliant. "I love being your woman, Richard. Yes. A thousand times, yes."

Richard’s face lit up with pure happiness, and he stood, leaning far across the small table to pull her face toward his for a kiss. Roxanne reached for his collar, standing on her toes to meet him, but just as their lips were about to touch, her body betrayed her.

A sharp cramp hit the pit of her stomach, and the air rushed out of her lungs.

She gasped, her face draining of all color as she slapped both hands over her mouth and bolted toward the stone balcony railing. Bending double over the banister, she threw up into the morning air, her whole body shaking.

The acoustic music ground to a sudden halt. The gentle rustle of the wind was the only sound left in the heavy silence that fell over the terrace.

Richard was at her side in a split second, his strong hands resting firmly on her trembling shoulders, his own chest rising and falling in sharp, frantic breaths. "Roxanne? Hey. Are you alright?"

Roxanne clutched her abdomen, her skin clammy and slick with cold sweat as she slowly forced herself upright. Her head spun, the misty mountain landscape spinning as her pulse hammered wildly against her throat.

She looked up at Richard’s worried eyes, her mind racing. "I— I don’t know."

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