Unconventional

Woman

Emilio had noticed the changes in Jennifer. Subtle at first, but impossible to ignore as time went on. She started buying new clothes—a bodycon dress caught his eye the most, hugging her figure in a way that immediately piqued his interest. She was clearly working on her weight, her body changing in ways that didn't escape his attention.

Then came the leggings. She tried to downplay it, wearing her usual oversized sweaters over them as if she could hide what she was doing. But Emilio noticed. He noticed everything. His Jenny was trying to get a rise out of him, and it was working.

He'd seen her heading to the gym in the early mornings, sneaking out before the sun was even up. He'd watched her buy makeup, more than she ever had before. And he'd seen her carefully applying it, layer after layer of that muck on her face. Last week, he told her she didn't need all that crap, but she hadn't listened. She kept doing it anyway, like she was preparing herself for someone else.

He knew what that meant. She was seeing someone. Of course, she hadn't said a word to him, but Emilio wasn't stupid. His little Jenny thought she could keep secrets.

He'd stopped paying her rent, just to see what she'd do. She didn't even know the house was in his name—he'd funneled the payments through his own LLC from the start. The place had always been hi. But she was too busy playing dress-up to notice the truth. She'd learn soon enough.

That night, Emilio sat in her living room, waiting. The lights were dim, casting shadows across the room as he sat silently, his eyes trained on the door.

Finally, the door creaked open, and Jennifer stepped inside. She closed it quickly behind her, as if trying to hide something. And then he heard her voice—soft, welcoming.

"Hey, put your shoes on the rack. Make yourself at home, and I'll show you upstairs."

Emilio's blood ran cold as a male figure appeared in the doorway behind her. He hadn't expected her to bring someone into his house. His eyes zeroed in on the guy, and his chest tightened with fury.

"Who's this?" he asked, his voice low, simmering with quiet rage. "You never mentioned we were having guests."

Jennifer froze, her face contorting with disgust. "This is enough, Emilio. Leave. I don't need you here telling me what to do."

Emilio's eyes darkened as he looked from her to the man. His voice turned to a hiss. "He needs to leave. What, you promised him you'd sleep with him? You go behind my back after everything? After all I've done for you? You don't fucking listen, Jenny. I told you what I'd do if you tried this again."

Jennifer turned to the man, desperate. "I'm not with him, he just—"

"You are my wife, Jenny," Emilio cut her off, his voice cold and firm. "He needs to get the fuck out of my house. Now."

The man, sensing the danger in Emilio's tone, raised his hands and quickly backed out the door, disappearing into the night without a word. Now, it was just the two of them.

Emilio turned his full attention back to Jennifer, his eyes burning with fury. "So this is what you do? You slap that crap on your face and think it's okay to invite men into my house? After everything I've done for you?"

"Leave, Emilio," Jennifer's voice trembled, but there was defiance in her eyes.

Before she could react, Emilio's hand flew across her face, the impact sending her stumbling backward into the wall. The sound of the slap echoed through the room, and she gasped, cradling her cheek in shock.

"You're going to do exactly what that man was about to have you do for him," Emilio said darkly, grabbing her arm with an iron grip. There was no warmth left in his voice, no patience.