He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

"Yes, Cara. I have only one condition," Roxanne repeated, her voice dripping with confidence. "Do as I say, and we can pretend none of this public mess ever happened."

A long, heavy pause stretched over the phone line.

Down on the concrete steps, Cara seemed to digest the words, her rapid breathing coming through the speaker.

Roxanne did not rush her. She was content to let the silence bleed out for as long as it took, so long as Cara surrendered in the end.

Finally, Cara’s voice cracked through the line again. "What condition?" she asked, every syllable guarded and tight with suspicion.

A small, satisfying smile curled the corners of Roxanne’s lips. She let out a sigh and leaned forward over the wide desk, resting her elbows on the polished wood. "Refute the claims," she said, her tone absolute.

"What?" Cara barked instantly, the disbelief cutting sharp through the quiet room.

"You heard me, Cara," Roxanne affirmed, keeping her tone light. "Turn around, face those cameras, and tell everyone that you lied about the entire story."

Another heavy beat of silence passed.

Then, a loud, bitter scoff echoed through the small phone speaker. "You cannot seriously expect me to do that! Tell me this is some pathetic joke," Cara spat, her voice rising an octave.

"It is my only condition. Take it or leave it," Roxanne said, her calm demeanor remaining completely unshakeable.

"Do you even realize what you are asking me to do?" Cara asked, the raw panic in her voice practically bleeding through the line.

"Yes, Cara. I am simply asking you to do the right thing for once," Roxanne replied with ironclad conviction.

"The right thing? For whom, exactly? Do you have any idea what this will do to my reputation?" Cara demanded, her voice shaking as her shallow breaths rattled the speaker.

"As I told you," Roxanne said, her eyes fixed on the city skyline outside the window, "that is my baseline. Do that, and we can discuss setting up a private meeting inside. Otherwise, you can stay right down there on the pavement."

"I am not doing it! Hell no!" Cara screamed, her breath hitching wildly as total frustration took over. "What an absolute joke!"

"Then I guess you have made your choice, and I have made mine," Roxanne said softly. "Which means we have nothing left to talk about."

"Fine! Hang up the damn phone!" Cara snapped, her voice trembling with pure fury. "You are going to regret this, Roxanne! I swear you will regret this!"

Roxanne shook her head, feeling a sudden flash of heat rise in her chest. She took a deep, steadying breath, cooling the flare of anger before it took root. She had Cara exactly where she wanted her, and she refused to lose her temper now.

"Just tell Richard that—"

Roxanne tapped the screen, cutting the line mid-sentence.

She set the phone down on the table and looked up at Richard. He stood rigid by the window, his jaw set so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek, his dark eyes searching hers for answers.

Roxanne gave him a reassuring nod and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling glass wall where he stood. Richard reached out, taking her hand in his while his other hand gently cupped her face, his touch warm against her skin.

"You handled that well," Richard murmured, his deep voice thick with protective concern. "But I hate seeing you being bothered by this. Are you sure you don’t want me to take over?"

Roxanne leaned into his touch, looking up into his eyes. "It isn’t bothering me," she said, forcing a soft smile to her lips. "I have everything completely under control."

Richard studied her face, his thumb softly tracing her cheekbone. "I am right here if you need me to step in or use any of my resources," he offered softly.

"I know. Thank you," she whispered, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

They both turned their gaze downward, looking through the glass at the plaza below. The bright sunlight illuminated the crowd of journalists swarming the wide stone steps like ants.

"I will not give anyone the power to steal my peace," Roxanne said, her voice dropping to a sharp whisper. "Never again. And Cara is about to learn what happens when she pushes me."

As if sensing their heavy gaze from the top floor, Cara suddenly snapped her head upward. Her eyes locked onto the high window, flashing with a volatile mix of wild rage and desperation.

Roxanne stared back down at her, the corners of her mouth tilting into a small smile. She turned to look at Richard, expecting to see her own victory reflected in his face, but his eyebrows were pulled together in a tight furrow.

A sudden knot of tension coiled in Roxanne’s stomach. Instinctively, she brought her hand down to rest over her lower belly, feeling the sharp spike of anxiety settle there.

She reached up and touched Richard’s forearm. "What is wrong, Richard?" she asked softly.

Richard kept his eyes fixed on the scene below, his brow pinching even deeper. "Her eyes," he muttered, his tone laced with deep concern.

Roxanne looked back out the window, watching Cara’s rigid posture on the steps. "What about them?"

Richard’s expression hardened. "I know that look. She only looks like that when she’s decided she’s got nothing left to lose," he said, his voice dropping low. "And when Cara thinks she has nothing left to lose, she becomes dangerous."

Roxanne watched as Cara tore her gaze away from the top floor window and turned her body directly toward the waiting press pack. Her heart gave a sudden, hard thud against her ribs.

What are you doing, Cara? Don’t do anything reckless, Roxanne thought, a sudden chill creeping up her spine.

"Roxanne, she isn’t going to back down," Richard said, his eyes wide with worry as he watched the scene unfold below. "She isn’t going to refute a single claim."

Roxanne narrowed her eyes, watching Cara raise her phone like a weapon toward the reporters. "You might be right," she said, swallowing the sudden dryness in her throat as she fought to keep her cool facade intact. "But she knows better than to ruin herself completely. And I hope I am right about her, for her own sake."

Richard’s hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, his chest heaving. He looked like a man reaching the absolute limit of his patience. Roxanne reached out to touch his arm again, but he pulled back slightly, his eyes darting to hers.

"Richard—"

"No, Roxanne," Richard cut in, grabbing her hand with an urgent grip. "I know how Cara is when she feels cornered. She is about to blow this entire situation wide open, and we are going to spend months trying to clean up the damage."

"Richard, please, just let me—"

Richard shook his head with finality, his eyes dark and resolved. "I am ending this right now."

Roxanne’s eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

"I am going down there to talk to her myself," Richard declared, his voice leaving no room for debate as he turned toward the office door.

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