Let's Play House

Suspicious Minds

Marriage. It's usually the happiest moment in a girls life. Planning a wedding, buying a dress, walking down the aisle. But sometimes when you get married, there are stipulations. Things that they ask of you that you don't really think about, but that sit in the back of your head over time. Because once it's in your head, you can't get it out.

Elvis was your "it". The night before your wedding, your husband looked to you and asked you one small favor. He asked that if anything happened between the two of you ever, that you wouldn't cheat on him with your best friend.

At the time, that thought was unimaginable. Elvis? You saw his day to day life, and you wanted nothing to do with it. The drugs, the alcohol, the partying, the women. You weren't about to make yourself a notch under his belt. He probably didn't even think of you that way. So you agreed. Like the young, naive, girl that you were.

Ever since that day, it played in the back of your mind. "What if?" You'd think to yourself, all the questions ringing through your head. None of them seemed even the slightest bit possible, though, so you brushed it off again.

Until that day. Elvis had just played a very heavy show. The crowd was wild, and he moved like he'd never moved before. He'd invited you and your husband out for the night, but you came alone since he had to work. Typical.

The show was unlike any other, and when you met your friend backstage he smiled widely in your direction, towel draped casually over his shoulders to catch the sweat pouring from every crevis of his body. "Great show, EP," you complimented him, already knowing he'd get a big head.

"Had to impress my best girl," Elvis smirked, wrapping a sweaty arm around your waist. This wasn't the first time he'd touched you like this, it happened more and more often, but you always assumed it was just something casual. Friends can be close. Right?

"You know, I don't think I saw Priscilla out there tonight?" You thought out loud, remembering the way you'd subconsciously scanned the crowd for his wife.

"Wasn't talkin' about her darlin'," he breathed heavily, moving closer so only you could hear. "She's home tonight with Lisa." Elvis corrected a little too intentionally. "I see Y/H/N is missing tonight as well," he questioned, doing a quick look around.

"Work," you admitted, softly, trying not to make anything of it.

"Think he'd mind if I took you out for the night?" Elvis offered, keeping his eyes on yours. He knew the effect they had you, from the moment the two of you had met you'd always complimented his eyes. They could stare daggers when they wanted, but they could also fall so sweetly that you could never say no.

"Elvis," you sighed, trying not to let him win, but there was no use. "Maybe just a quick dinner," you agreed, giving in with a smile.

You should've said no. Standing in your bathroom now, and thinking back to that moment, all you could think was that you should've walked away. You should've went home, had a glass of wine, and tucked in early. But you didn't. Now here you were two weeks later with a test on your counter that was waiting to develop. God, how could 5 minutes feel like 5 years?

"Y/N?" Elvis called from the hall, wondering why you were taking so long. You were going out tonight for a double date with him and his wife. His wife. What the hell were you thinking? The two of you were both married, so what made you think this was okay?

"I'll be out in a minute, EP," your voice shook a little when you said his name, but you hoped he wouldn't catch it. Wrong.

"Y/N, is everything alrigh-" he stopped mid sentence, seeing what you were doing. You'd never seen his eyes get that big. He was practically a deer in the headlights. Scratch that. He was.

You covered your eyes as he shut the door behind himself. Out of shame, embarrassment, both? You didn't want to see him, or the results of your actions staring back at you.

"Y/N, tell me that isn't what I think it is," Elvis asked nervously, hesitating to look down.

All you could do was nod as the tears welled up in your eyes. What had you done? Why? Your husband was an amazing man. He gave you everything you'd ever wanted, and never once told you no. Why would you give it up for your best friend?

Sure Elvis was an amazing man, and you always enjoyed your time together, but you saw the way he treated Priscilla. He may love her, but he had a funny way of showing it.

When you looked down at the test the two lines gleamed back at you, and you wanted to scream. How were you going to tell Y/H/N? Would Elvis tell Priscilla? Would she even care? Would you end up alone, without your husband, or Elvis? Would you even want Elvis?

The thought raced through your head again and again, making you rethink your whole life. You did. You wanted Elvis more than anything. That day, and all the days before, and all the days since.

When your husband had kissed you that night when you got home, he welcomed you with a smile, having no idea you'd just broken his number one promise. It felt painful, disgusting, toxic. Like you didn't know if you could live with yourself and the guilt. So why did you wanna do it again?

"Y/N?" Elvis said, snapping you back to reality.

You looked up at him doe eyed, tears still damp on your cheeks. "I love you," you realized, pulling yourself together as you took in all the emotions you were feeling at once. There was an overwhelming sensation of sadness, confusion, and hope that filled every ounce of you completely.

Elvis was completely taken aback, doing a double take as if unsure if he'd heard you right. "What about...everyone?" He gestured to the door. Not just referring to your spouses but the entourage of paparazzi that came with the man as well.

"I guess we'll figure it out," you questioned, not knowing what to do. "That is, if you want to?" You realized, forgetting that you weren't the only one with a life changing decision.

There was a brief second where more than a hint of a smile filled his face, and you could see how genuinely happy he was for the first time in a long time.

Until Y/H/N opened the door to check on you and came face to face with his biggest fear. The horror that spilled from every ounce of his being made you cringe.

He was a ball of rage, as he started down the hallway toward the front door. "Y/H/N, stop!" You shouted, not knowing what to say.

He spun around in a flash, coming at you as he made himself taller to emphasize his anger; his power. "Tell me it's mine, tell me it didn't happen." He demanded, growling in a way you'd never heard him before. The two of you hadn't slept together all month, so you already knew the answer.

A whimper slipped past your lips as tears filled your eyes once more, knowing you couldn't lie. Without a second to hesitate Elvis dove between the two of, stepping in to keep him away.

"Y/H/N, the way I see this, you can either take a few steps back and walk out that door, or I can leave with her by my side. Now, if you choose to touch one God damn hair on her head, I swear I will make you regret the day you ever met me." Elvis pressed, protecting you at all cost.

"You know what 'EP'," he said sarcastically. "I will always regret the day I met you." He fought, taking off out the door as Priscilla came into view.

"Elvis," she said shakily, looking between the two of you with so much hurt in her eyes. "It's not..." she stammered. "Please tell me she isn't," she begged, body trembling with fear. "Oh God, please," she sobbed, kneeling to the floor as she tried to catch her breath.

Elvis made his way over to his wife, he wanted nothing more than to comfort her, but he knew she wouldn't want to be touched. Not by him.

She managed to raise herself to her feet as she stumbled for the exit, keeping her eyes on anything but the two of you. "Call me a cab," Priscilla demanded with no more emotion in her voice. She'd officially cracked.

Elvis' eyes met yours before letting them drift slowly to your stomach as he realized the choice he'd made. Neither of you were happy before, but it didn't deserve to end this way. Not with this much pain and suffering.

You only hoped your future would be better.