He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

Roxanne looked at Richard, taking in his tall, defiant posture lit by the yellow glow of the estate driveway. There was no use arguing with him right now. He was set in his ways, and he was not going to budge.

With a quiet sigh, she walked over to the black sedan and climbed into the passenger seat.

Richard shut her door with a firm thud and turned toward the driver’s side. But before he could even take three steps across the gravel, the door of the villa swung open.

Cara appeared at the grand entrance, her face flushed red. "Richard? Are you actually leaving?" she shouted, her shrill voice tinged with sheer disbelief as her heels clicked frantically against the stone steps. "You cannot just walk away from this! You can’t leave like this!"

Richard did not slow his brisk stride for a single second. He ignored her completely, pulled open the door, and slid behind the steering wheel.

Roxanne glanced out her window at Cara, who was running down the steps, and then turned her gaze to Richard, her mind racing with a dozen thoughts at once. "Will you really not go out there and speak to her?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper in the quiet cabin.

Richard’s gaze snapped directly to her. He reached across the center console and wrapped his broad fingers around her hand, his dark eyes softening instantly. "I meant every single word when I said that you and our child are the only two people who matter to me right now," he said, his voice deep and completely steady.

Suddenly, a loud, startling thud echoed through the cabin as Cara slapped her open palm hard against the glass of the passenger window. They both turned to look at her distorted face pressed against the tinted window.

Richard let out a weary breath, peeled his eyes away from the glass, and looked back into Roxanne’s dark eyes. "About the night of the gala—" he began urgently.

"No, Richard, please don’t," Roxanne interrupted, placing her free hand on his arm to stop him. "You don’t have to justify yourself to me right now."

Richard gave a firm shake of his head. "I will not let Cara poison your mind with half-truths. You need to hear what actually happened," he insisted, his tone unyielding.

Roxanne looked at him, feeling her chest tighten. Was she truly ready to process the full details of that night? She swallowed the lump in her dry throat and offered a slow, hesitant nod.

"The night of the gala, right after you left me at the lounge," Richard began, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. "I freshened up in the private room and went straight to the gala. When I arrived, Cara was already waiting by the entrance. The very first thing I did was ask her to leave because I did not want her there."

"Why? Because you knew I was on my way there?" Roxanne asked, searching his face.

Richard shook his head. "No, Roxanne," he said gently. "Because I wanted to make it crystal clear to her that we were completely done for good. My mother was the one who invited her behind my back. She wanted Cara standing right beside me so the press would think I was seeing the daughter of one of the most powerful families in the city."

Roxanne nodded slowly, processing his words. "But there are pictures of the two of you together from that night," she pointed out, her voice calm.

"Yes, there are," Richard admitted, his tone steady and honest. "But if you look closely at those photos, you can see we were not cozy or intimate. That picture was taken by a photographer when Cara and I were talking."

Roxanne studied his face for several seconds. There was no hesitation in his explanation. No defensive twisting of facts. No attempt to hide behind technicalities. And, most importantly, nothing he was saying contradicted what she remembered from that night. She believed him.

Roxanne looked at him and let out another quiet sigh. "I just don’t want any more drama, Richard," she confessed. "And I will definitely not sit back and let your mother or Cara talk about our baby as if it is some disposable problem."

Richard nodded firmly, his strong jaw hardening into a rigid line. "I will never allow them to do that either," he declared.

Without warning, Cara slapped her palm against the heavy glass window again, the sharp sound reverberating through the car. "Open this door right now, Richard!" she screamed, her desperate voice muffled by the thick glass.

Richard ignored her frantic screaming, reached forward, and pushed the start button. "We will have this conversation at home," he murmured through clenched teeth as the engine roared to life with a low hum.

As his hand moved down to shift the gear into drive, Roxanne quickly reached out and covered his wrist. Richard paused, his dark brows furrowing in deep confusion as he looked over at her.

"Go to her," Roxanne said, her tone quiet but clear.

Richard’s face twisted into an expression of total shock. "You cannot be serious," he said, his voice laced with pure incredulity. "Why on earth would you even suggest something like that after everything we just said?"

Roxanne met his fiery gaze, her eyes remaining cool, steady, and composed. "Earlier, you asked me if I trusted you, and the answer is yes, I do," she said softly. "But now, I need you to trust me in return."

Richard stared at her, his broad chest rising and falling in deep, heavy breaths. "I trust you with my life, Roxanne, and you know that," he murmured, leaning closer. "But as your man, I think we can both agree it is high time you tell me what you are secretly planning."

Roxanne stayed silent for a fleeting second, contemplating her next words as her eyes darted to Cara, who was still banging on the window and yelling in the dark.

Then she looked back into Richard’s eyes. "What I can tell you right now is that I need your family, and especially Cara, to believe that you and I are breaking apart because of this situation."

Richard narrowed his eyes into thin slits, searching her face. "Why?" he asked, his voice rough. "I refuse to give any of them the impression that I would hesitate for a second to choose you and defend you. I love you, Roxanne, and I intend to show them that every single day."

"I know you do, Richard," Roxanne said softly, a genuine wave of warmth spreading through her chest at his fierce declaration. "All I am asking is for us to create a temporary distraction. We need to make them feel comfortable and complacent. It is the only way to end this nightmare permanently."

Richard gave a slow nod, his mind working quickly as his eyes narrowed further. "What is the actual plan?" he asked.

Roxanne glanced toward the window at Cara one last time, then met Richard’s gaze. "Cara believes the only reason I am standing between her and you is because you chose me. If she believes you’ve finally rejected me, she’ll think the obstacle has disappeared. She’ll become confident. And confident people make mistakes."

Richard’s eyes narrowed. "And you want her to make that mistake where we can see it."

Roxanne looked at him and offered a small, confident nod. "Exactly," she said. "She gave me everything tonight."

Richard frowned. "Everything?"

Roxanne nodded. "Yes, Richard. The names of every clinic and hospital on those documents. I memorized them."

Richard’s expression changed. "You think the records are fake."

"I don’t think. I intend to prove it," Roxanne replied firmly.

"Alright then," Richard said, his tone shifting from hesitation to total support. "Tell me what you need me to do."

"I just need you to play along for a short while," Roxanne explained carefully. "Make Cara put a hold on her plans and convince her that she is actually winning this war."

Richard’s gaze darted out the driver’s side window toward Cara, then snapped back to Roxanne. He exhaled a sharp, frustrated breath, his face contorting with visible disgust. "I can barely stand to look at her face," he muttered.

Roxanne reached over, taking both of his hands into her own, and looked directly into his eyes. "I know. But it is the only way."

Richard stared at her for several seconds before finally nodding. "Fine."

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