Page 1 of How is This My Life? (Shorts)

Elise’s POV

“Hey, babe!” Trevor, my husband, shouted as he came through the front door.

His suit jacket was hanging off his arm, and he had a hundred-watt smile on his face.

He set his briefcase down on the kitchen counter, kissing my cheek.

He always did this. He always came in and kissed me first thing.

It was just what we did after we moved in together.

“I’m gonna grab a shower,” he mumbled into my hair as he pulled me into a tight hug. “Could we go out for dinner?” I nodded, hoping I could talk to him about our vacation plans. We had been talking about finally traveling overseas before we settled down and started our family.

“I want to talk to you about something,” He called over his shoulder, a smile on his face, as I stopped prepping the salad for dinner.

I would just use it for my lunches this week.

It was my second day off that week, so I was finally able to relax and get the meal prep for the week done.

Working as a nurse and working three twelve-hour shifts, or more if I wanted some extra money, was a drain, especially because my boss had me doing them all in a row, with no days off in between.

I was thankful for having all my days off together, though.

I could get the housework and meal prep done, so we wouldn’t have to worry about that.

“Sure,” I said unenthusiastically, trying not to be irritated that plans had changed from dinner at home to dinner out.

We were supposed to be saving for so many things.

For a wedding, a baby, and our dream vacation.

We had agreed last year that we wouldn’t be spending extra money we didn’t have to.

We were both twenty-nine, and though I say he’s my husband we had never legally been married.

We had been together since we were sixteen, as head cheerleader and captain of the football team.

He got me an engagement ring when we graduated from college seven years ago.

Thirteen years together, and we were still saving for our dream wedding and honeymoon.

I had started to give up on the idea of actually marrying him within the last six or so months. He always says, ‘I don’t need the government to tell me if I'm married to you or not.’

Cue the eye roll combined with the sigh.

He’d only started saying that about seven months ago.

Before that? He couldn’t wait. He was ready and willing.

I had no idea what had changed. I finished putting away the salad.

Lost in thought, I went to our bedroom and threw on something semi-nice because we were probably going to our favorite Mexican place around the corner.

Like always. Running the mascara over my lashes, I looked at myself in the mirror.

High-waisted, fitted jeans and a black tank top with my hair up in a bun on top of my head were all I could bring myself to do.

Work had been hell, and I was hoping to relax at home.

“Ready?” He asked, coming into the living room about thirty minutes later, looking handsome in his button-down t-shirt and faded jeans.

He was always so effortlessly put together.

I grabbed my belt bag, double-checking I had everything, and out the door we went.

The ride was filled with talk of our days, and this stressful project he had at work.

He’d been spending more and more time at the office trying to get it done.

I hated how much he was away, but it felt like a necessary evil.

He was up for a promotion if this project went well.

Once seated at a secluded, two-top table at this tiny, little hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant, he leaned across the table.

I already knew what I wanted to order. It had been our spot since our first date all those years ago.

When he leaned in, I mirrored his actions.

I thought he was going to kiss me, but his face was too serious.

I leaned in, assuming since his face was set, this must be important.

“I want to talk to you about something. Something pretty serious, and it affects both of us.” I swallowed, the sudden flurry of butterflies in my stomach making me nauseous.

Just as I was about to ask, our usual waitress, Maria, silently dropped off our drinks, chips, salsa, and my large order of queso, winking at us before leaving us to talk.

I leaned back, looking at him, then at the chips.

I reached for one, hoping to stall for time because there was an uneasy feeling creeping up.

Dipping my chip in the queso, I asked the questions since he’d started in on the chips and salsa, not continuing the conversation.

“What’s going on? Are we finally planning that wedding?

” I giggled, a small smile on my face, knowing there was no way it was that.

His face scrunched in disgust at the suggestion, and I couldn’t help but be a little offended and upset by that.

I had been with this man faithfully for the last thirteen years, and the thought of a wedding made him look like that?

“I want to try an open relationship.”

I froze. The world felt like it tilted, like it was thrown off its axis.

He wanted a—what?! I stopped eating, mid-chew, and looked up at the only man I’d ever been with.

I sucked in a breath to ask what the fuck he meant when I started choking on a pointy piece of chip that just seemed to get stuck at just the right moment.

Coughing, I grabbed my Sprite, gulping it before setting it down a little harder than needed on the table.

“Excuse me?!” I shouted, not giving a damn about being in the middle of a restaurant.

Trevor shushed me, looking around as people started staring at us, staff included.

We had always been a quiet couple here, so the raised voices were an unexpected development, drawing stares from various patrons.

He leaned in over the table again before continuing to let the stupid shit fall from his mouth.

“I want to try an open relationship,” there was the ridiculous shit I simply couldn’t seem to process again, “I’ve been reading and talking to people in open relationships on reddit.

Sometimes it seems to genuinely strengthen the relationship.

We’ve only ever been with each other, so I was thinking, before we finally get married and have kids that we need to sow our oats.

See what’s out there, ya know? Try all the things we want and get the wildness out.

I was talking to my coworker, Tawnya, and—"

I put my hand up to stop him. Disgust filled my every pore.

“I’m gonna stop you right there. Tawnya? As in the only girl on your team at work? As in, the one who, last time we went out for drinks after work with your coworkers, was hitting on you right in front of me? That Tawnya? The same Tawnya who I told you has been after you for a while?” He nodded.

“Her?!” My voice was practically a shriek and had raised more than a few octaves.

“I know she’s a bit younger than us,” he continued, twisting the knife in a bit further.

I was only twenty-nine. How much younger was she?

What did she have that I didn’t? Was this really what he wanted to do?

Fuck around with other women and experiment ?

What about all of our plans? What about our future we had been building toward for thirteen fucking years?

! Had I really wasted all this time on him?

! He was still talking, going on and on, but I couldn’t hear the words through the thoughts swirling in my head.

I was pulled back to reality by his next words.

“She’s just so fun and carefree . She’s like a ray of sunshine, ya know?”

Carefree? A ray of sunshine? What the fuck was I?

! A stick in the mud? A fuddy duddy? A rain cloud?

I felt physically sick. I leaned back in my chair, all the hot air being taken from my balloon, the wind rushed out of my sails.

Was I not enough for him anymore? What the fuck happened that he thought this would ever be a good idea?

I didn’t even recognize the man anymore.

We had been together for thirteen years!

“Why?” That was all I could think to ask.

“Huh?” He looked like I caught him off guard with my question. He looked thoroughly confused.

“ Why do you want an open relationship? The real answer this time,” his eyes were as big as saucers, “You owe me that after all these years together, Trevor.”

“Honestly?” He looked stricken, torn, like I’d just asked him to spill some dirty little secret he’d been trying to keep from me, like he was trying to ‘ protect’ me from whatever pain was on its way.

I had already been crushed, my heart shattered, splintered, and bleeding out before him on the table that used to be our special date night table.

But I wanted to know. I deserved to know.

I needed this closure because I knew there was no way that I’d be able to ever stay with him.

“Because I’ve always wondered what else could be out there for us.

I’ve wanted to explore more in and out of the bedroom, and…

mainly I’ve wanted to explore and experiment with other people,” he reached for my hand, but I pulled away, tucking my hands in my lap.

I didn’t want to touch him. I didn’t want his hands on me ever again.

He wanted other people, while all I was naively thinking about was our future, and I only wanted him.

“I feel like this could be an opportunity for us to find that out, together.” He could tell he was losing me. I could feel myself dissociating. “Elise, just give it six months. If in six months, you don’t like it, we’ll get counseling, and work this out, and we’ll settle down and get married.”

Six months? For him to fuck around? He wanted to cheat, just with my approval? Pass.

Hard pass.