Page 43 of Cursing My Cheating Husband

Ugh. I had to correct myself again. I needed to stop thinking of this as our home. It was her home, and I was flat broke and only allowed to stay at her pleasure.

On top of all that, a home-cooked meal every night had been a bigger production than I understood. I winced at the memory of how many times I had let her do all this work, and then left her waiting for me over cooling plates of food, while I met up with one of my other women. So many times, I hadn’t even texted her to say I was “running late.” I focused on who I was with and left Callie to handle all this on her own.

I couldn’t have at least let my endlessly loving and supportive wife know I would not be home in time for dinner? Even that had been too much for me?

I was such a goddamn asshole. Something else about these domestic tasks… they’d given me a lot of time to think about my mistakes.

There had been just one way I could picture my circumstances being worse, and it was about as pathetic a consolation as you could imagine. Lance had “only” been back six times since the first hookup, and Callie only stationed me at the end of the hall for half of those.

Not that it mattered where I went the other times. Their sex was always so loud that the sounds filled the entire house. There was no corner I could go to escape it.

The message couldn’t have been clearer: she wasn’t mine anymore.

But she still felt like mine.

As I continued wiping down the countertop, I looked at how dry and raw my hands had become over these weeks of constant housework. Duke and Ryder had even noticed the inflamed redness and asked what I had done to myself. The only lie I could think to offer them was: must be some kind of allergic reaction, no idea what caused it, just a rash.

I honestly could have cried when Ryder responded with a joke that it was really too much jerking off that was behind my chaffed hands. If only! I couldn’t believe how thorough this curse was. It knocked my dick out not only for actual sexual partners, but masturbatory fantasies of any non-Callie women as well. I’d scrolled through so much porn on my phone down in that basement, and no matter how dirty and hot the material was, it still produced no response.

Callie crossed my mind more than once during those attempts. But I pushed those thoughts away every time. I could have jerked off to her and she wouldn’t have known and it would have been such an incredible release, but giving in to that felt like surrender, and I wasn’t ready to do that yet.

Though somehow she looked hotter by the day. I couldn’t deny the temptation was building, to just allow myself to fall into fantasies of fucking her senseless…

I shook my head to snap myself out of it. As I finished the last of the hand-wash-only dishes (a month ago I didn’t even know hand-wash-only was a thing! I thought everything could go in the dishwasher!), I looked over to the living room. Callie was sprawled on the couch, deep in a book.

Our verbal interactions over the last three weeks had been limited almost entirely to her giving me commands, and me saying yes. She kept the door firmly closed to any deeper conversation.

But I couldn’t stay on the outside like this, not even talking to her, not if I was trying to win her forgiveness. If nothing else, she had to hear me actually apologize. I was sure I was going to have to apologize again and again and again, and I needed to get that process started.

I glanced in the mirror, trying to make sure my expression was as sheepish and apologetic as I could make it. My reflection looked suitably abashed. Time to swoop in. I approached the couch.

“So, Callie⁠—”

She immediately lifted a finger and shushed me, not looking up from her book. “I need to finish this chapter. Wait.”

Which took literally twenty-seven minutes. I knew, because all I could do was stand there and watch the minutes tick by on the clock. She let me stand there ignored for almost a half hour, like a total fucking jackass, as she turned the pages, alternately chuckling and gasping at whatever was happening in the story.

As I waited, text notifications buzzed silently in my pocket, and I wondered which of my tormentors it was this time. Both my dad and Gwen had blown up my phone the last few days. I was ignoring them both. I’m sure my dad just needed money again, and Gwen was still stewing about my inability to perform and telling me I owed her an orgasm. She was burying me in mean messages about how the least I could do was settle my debt by eating her out.

What was it I had found so irresistible about her again? Looking back, my whole attraction to trashy, selfish, vicious Gwen seemed idiotic to the point of derangement.

At last, my long wait ended. Callie sighed contentedly and placed the book to the side.

“Yes, Maddox?” she said through a happy smirk.

“So it’s been three weeks,” I began.

“Yes, it has. Three weeks of our new arrangement, after years of betrayal.”

This wasn’t the best start, but I plowed ahead. “And I really do want to apologize.”

“I’m sure you do,” she scoffed.

“Can I just say this please?!” I barked. Fuck, I could not take that tone with her. I had to watch myself, but standing there so long like a fucking clown really brought my frustration to a boil. I was going to have to learn better self-control in a lot of ways, apparently.

She sighed. “Fine. By all means. Let’s hear what you’ve got.” She sat up from her reclining position, looking like she was listening to a lecture in a classroom. “Go on.”

I took a deep breath and plowed in. “I really have been an idiot. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I didn’t understand what a big deal this was. I just thought, you know, guys sleep around. I kept thinking I was just being a regular man. But I was being an idiot. I made a mistake. I should have thought about your feelings. I should have been honest with you. I shouldn’t have done anything with those other women. I wish I’d appreciated you more, because I do love you. But you know the truth now, and I see that I was wrong, and I’m committed now to being the husband you deserve. I know it’ll take time, but I’m willing to do whatever you want to make you feel safe. You’re such a wonderful, kind, trusting, beautiful woman. Do you think you could ever give me another chance? You have no idea how much it hurts to have you this mad at me. It’s killing me. Could you ever try to forgive me?”