BAD WIFE

Chapter {38}

A few weeks later...

Clarissa's feet dangled off the edge of the bed as she sat quietly in the dark. It was nearly 11 p.m., and the house was still and silent—exactly what she had been waiting for. That hush was her cue. It meant the kids were asleep, the house was safe, and she could finally slip away.

She lowered her feet gently to the ground and tiptoed down the hallway, careful not to creak the floorboards. When she reached Jacob's door, it was unlocked—just like always. And he was there, waiting beneath the covers of their king-sized bed, his arms already open and that familiar smile lighting up his face.

They'd been anticipating this moment all day.

"Get over here," he murmured, voice low and commanding as he reached out and tugged her onto his chest the second she climbed onto the bed.

She let out a soft whimper of contentment as her cheek pressed against his bare skin and her eyes fluttered shut. There was something heavenly about simply being wrapped in the arms of the person you love—where the world melted away, and nothing else mattered.

For a long moment, they didn't speak. He ran his fingers through her hair, and she traced the ridges of his abs, her fingertips moving in lazy, affectionate patterns.

"I have a surprise for you," he said, voice thick with mischief.

Her eyes popped open instantly. She pushed herself up and sat on her knees, palms open in excitement. "What is it? Jewelry? Or maybe plane tickets to some reclusive island for a second honeymoon?"

He chuckled and propped himself against the headboard. "Neither. Sorry to disappoint."

But as he shifted, she caught sight of something new—something wrapped in gauze and tape, placed over the left side of his chest.

Her expression changed in an instant. "What happened?" she asked, concern lacing her voice as she leaned forward, reaching for the fresh bandage. The playfulness in her eyes vanished completely.

He smiled calmly. "Why don't you see for yourself?"

With careful fingers, she peeled the tape away, revealing the swollen, slightly red skin underneath... and gasped.

There, in elegant cursive script inked above his heart, was her name.

"Oh my God..." she whispered, lifting her hand to cover her mouth in shock.

A wide, boyish grin broke across his face. He looked ridiculously proud.

"This is..." Her voice failed her. Words floated in her throat, but none of them made it out.

"I love you," he said, brushing a few strands of hair away from her eyes with gentle fingertips.

Her hand slowly lowered as tears threatened to build. "I love you too... but... you didn't have to do this."

"Did you have to do yours?" he challenged softly, referencing the tattoo she'd gotten months ago.

She shook her head shyly, eyes drifting down as she leaned in to study the fresh ink on his skin. "Does it hurt?"

He chuckled and kissed the tip of her nose. "You're too cute."

She blushed, cheeks pink and glowing. Her fingers gently traced the raised lines of her name, heart fluttering with emotion.

"It's impossible for me to wait until 11 p.m. just to be with you, Clair," he said, changing the tone. His voice was sincere now, his gaze serious. "I can't do it anymore."

She looked away.

"What are you afraid of?" he asked softly, searching her face.

She stayed quiet.