BAD WIFE

Chapter {2}

"How do I look?" Baylee asked, turning slightly in front of the full-length mirror in Clarissa's bedroom. Her voice was casual, but her posture said otherwise—chin tilted up, hips angled just so, one hand resting confidently on her waist.

She wore a strapless black dress that shimmered under the soft bedroom lights—tight, slinky, and unapologetically bold. It hugged every curve like it was sewn onto her body, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Her toned legs stole the spotlight, long and athletic, accentuated by a pair of red six-inch heels that practically screamed look at me.

Baylee admired herself from every angle, waiting for the compliment she already knew she deserved.

But silence hung in the room.

Clarissa was somewhere else again.

Baylee sighed, turning away from the mirror. "Are you thinking about that asshole again?"

"Huh?" Clarissa blinked, snapping out of whatever mental fog she'd drifted into.

Baylee put her hands on her hips. "I said, how do I look?"

Clarissa blinked once, then replied flatly, "Good."

Baylee dropped her hands and crossed the room, sitting beside her sister at the edge of the bed. "Why don't you come out tonight?"

"I'm not in the mood."

"Exactly why you should," Baylee countered without missing a beat. "You're not going to magically wake up healed one day. You have to make it happen. Come on. Lola invited you too."

Tonight was Lola's bachelorette party—a night Baylee had been low-key dreading. But still... it was an excuse to drink, wear something indecent, and pretend like her feelings didn't exist.

"I'd spoil the fun," Clarissa murmured, her voice far away again.

"No, you wouldn't."

There was a long pause.

Then Clarissa whispered, as if finally allowing the words to escape her lips, "He said he fell out of love with me."

Baylee stilled.

Her sister still hadn't looked at her. She was staring ahead, unmoving, like she wasn't really present at all.

"He said he lied about being with Regina," Clarissa added softly.

"What?" Baylee's head whipped toward her. "Wait, what?"

"I told him I wanted to start over," Clarissa continued, voice barely above a breath. "And instead of hugging me or saying he missed me... he told me he's not in love with me anymore."

Baylee's jaw clenched. "What a loser—"

"He's not a loser," Clarissa cut in quickly. Her tone wasn't defensive, just... tired. Heavy.

Baylee threw her hands in the air. "Oh, so we're sticking up for him now? The guy who rejected your heart like it was junk mail?"

"I wasn't the best wife," Clarissa admitted with a long sigh. "There were things I should've done differently."

"I don't care what kind of wife you were. He made a commitment. To you. To the four children you carried for him. He doesn't get to clock out of love like it's optional."

Clarissa's voice was quiet. "You think that's what Mom said to Dad?"

Baylee gasped softly, caught off guard by the painful comparison. "Clair..."