Soulmate may be the most lengthy SS I've done so far. Anyway, I kept y'all waiting long enough. Enjoy this next part!
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"Oh, fuck." You unintentionally say out loud as your eyes shift between your fiancée to her mother and back again. You don't move right away, hoping this is simply a horrible nightmare that you'll wake up from at any moment. But when you feel Normani's body subtly shaking between you and the cool marble wall you pressed her back against, the cruel reality creeps up on you, and you whip your head back to the brunette with her leg wrapped around you.
Normani, the same woman that was moaning your name only seconds prior to the barge-in, doesn't seem to care about the current situation as much as she cares about getting off, because her cum is currently coating your fingers, her walls pulsating heavily, preventing you from escaping her grasp. Normani's face is morphed in pure bliss, and you stare at her in both surprise and mild arousal when she grips onto your wrist to prevent you from pulling out.
You hear Justine's sob, yet your eyes can't seem to stray away from Normani, your fingers that fit snuggly inside her seeming to draw out her orgasm. It's only when ice cold, wet liquid soaks the both of you that you're fully able to break from the trance.
Your fiancée observes the two of you coldly as she grips the now empty glass in her left hand, and the stony, lingering silence that settles throughout the four walls of the bathroom is enough to make anyone tremble with apprehension.
"I suggest that you leave. Now," says Justine, her voice calm, emotionless and almost robotic as the words pass her lipstick coated lips. Her eyes narrow at your co-worker, and after one lingering glance at you, Normani straightens her posture as you do the same, her bare leg brushing your clothed one as her heels click to the tile floor. In the next breath, and all too soon, she's gone, her brunette hair flowing behind her in her haste to escape. You clench your hand shut, the same one coated with Normani's essence as Justine turns her glare from the door onto you, eyes watery with unshed tears.
"We're going home. Try your best not to stuff your hand up another woman's dress on the way out of this restaurant. Are we clear?"
She doesn't wait for your response, simply turning away from you and walking out of the door immediately after her last word. Running a hand over your wet face, you step to follow, but Justine's mother, Nova, blocks your path with a light touch to your shoulder. She looks disappointed in your actions, but not as upset as Justine, to your utter surprise.
"Let her breathe for a minute, honey."
You exhale heavily, your eyes brimming with tears as your gaze shifts from the door to the older woman in front of you. "Mama Nova, I'm sorry, I--"
"I know, honey," Nova says, interrupting your stuttering with a gentle, sad smile. "You don't love my daughter, do you?"
You blink at her, too astounded to say anything in reply, so Nova continues, taking your silence as confirmation to her question.
"Life is too short to live unhappily, Y/N. If you love her, work all of this stuff out. It'll take some time for things to fall into place like they once were, but you two have made it through worse. And if you don't love Justine, tell her. Let her be free, let yourself be free. Don't keep her tied down to believe in something that's only been a fairytale. She deserves the truth. Don't you think so?"
"Yes, but--"
"No buts. Justine's a grown woman, Y/N, and so are you. You tell her the truth and let her make the decision. No more pussyfooting around with other women. You hear me?"
You swallow thickly, quickly nodding your head in agreement. "Yes ma'am."
"Good." Mama Nova nods to herself with a light smile as she turns towards the swinging door, placing her hand onto the smooth wood to push it open. "Oh, and sweetheart, please wash your hands before you leave."
Your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you clear your throat a bit too dramatically. "Y-Yes, Mama Nova. I will."
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Justine doesn't speak to you the entire ride home.
It hurts that she's ignoring you, but in the same token, you know it's what you deserve, because your hurt is nothing compared to her mortification for what you did--what you've been doing--with Normani. Seeing your soon-to-be wife or husband having sex with someone else, and in public, is enough to break anyone. Yet seeing Justine now, she looks as cool as a cucumber. Looks are sometimes deceiving though, because you know Justine when she's angry.
And damn, is she absolutely livid right now.
"Sit." Justine orders to you when the two of you make it home half an hour later. She carelessly tosses the car keys onto the grey marble coated island as she walks through the opened kitchen from the front door, not sparing even a glance your way while she saunters down the hallway and into the bedroom the two of you share. It takes you no time at all to comply to her demand, loosening your tie as you swallow nervously, your (now clean) hands slightly clammy with sweat as you try to calm your racing pulse.
Twenty minutes pass before she blesses you with her presence again, with her hair in a bonnet and her red silk robe tied around her body. Her body shampoo wafts past your nostrils.
Usually, the two of you always showered together, no matter how upset the two of you were with each other. This time though, Justine took one alone.
And honestly, you don't know how to feel about it.
Her face is now make up free, and her eyes look slightly puffy from crying, but she's still as beautiful as she's always been.
"Baby--" You start, but Justine's quick to cut you off.
"You have five minutes--and five minutes only--to explain to me why the fuck you'd go and embarrass me in front of my parents. When you're done, I'm going to bed, and you're packing your shit for the night and you're leaving this house. Do you understand?"
You sigh heavily as you squeeze your eyes shut and blink them open, nodding meekly. "Yes."
Justine eyes you pointedly as she sinks her body onto the cushioned chair in front of you, crossing one smooth, chocolate toned leg across the other as she says: "Talk."
