But Don't Forget I Can Open Doors Too

Elena's Point Of View The walls of the guest room seemed to close in on me, suffocating and cold. The once elegant cream-painted room was now a graveyard of my belongings. Clothes flung carelessly across the floor, my jewelry scattered like worthless trinkets, boxes turned over and emptied, heels broken.  My handbags… designer, vintage, gifts from Graham himself, dumped like trash. The staff had done their job well. They hadn’t just moved me out, they’d desecrated everything that made me feel like I mattered in this home. I sat on the edge of the bed, clutching my knees to my chest, sobbing into them. My eyes were swollen, my voice hoarse from hours of crying. How did it come to this? How did the woman Graham used to call his “forever” become the stranger crying in a guest room, hiding from the laughter downstairs? Everywhere I looked was a reminder of my downfall. The shattered picture frame of our wedding day… the very frame I’d kept by my bedside for years. I picked it up slowly, tracing the cracks across our smiling faces. A memory came to mind the one that had haunted me since yesterday. The warmth of his hand in mine. The way he looked at me as if the stars had nothing on me. “I’ll give you the world, Elena,” he had whispered during our first dance, “Just stay mine.” Tears rolled down my cheeks again. What changed? What happened to the man I married? I wiped my face roughly. “Enough,” I whispered aloud. My reflection on the vanity across the room was pitiful. Broken. Defeated. But not for long. With a sudden surge of resolve, I stood up. My legs were shaky, but my spine straightened with every breath I took. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror propped against the wardrobe. My eyes were puffy, lips cracked, hair sticking in every direction. Was this who I’d become? A shadow of myself, all in the name of love? I walked into the bathroom, splashing cold water over my face. Then I pulled out my makeup kit. Layer by layer, I rebuilt myself. Foundation to hide the sorrow. Blush to bring back the fire. Red lipstick, the same shade I wore on our first date. Black eyeliner, sharp enough to kill. I curled my hair, letting the voluminous waves fall around my shoulders like a lioness preparing for war. Then I slipped into a crimson body-hugging dress that clung to my curves like sin. One Graham hated. “Too revealing,” he used to say. Tonight, I wanted it to be. I sprayed my signature perfume, five times, no less. Let the scent linger. I grabbed my black stilettos, my clutch, and my car keys. Before stepping out, I took a long look around the guest room and muttered, “You may have thrown me here, but you’ll regret ever trying.” I locked the door behind me. My things weren’t safe… neither was my dignity, but for now, it was enough. From the top of the stairs, I could see them all, laughing. Lillian was curled up next to Graham, her bump on full display like a badge of victory. His mother sat across from them, holding a glass of wine, her face bright and joyful. A family portrait. Without me. They hadn’t noticed me yet. I straightened my posture, placed one hand on the railing, and descended the stairs like a queen reclaiming her throne. Every step echoed in the living room, and one by one, heads turned. Conversations stopped. Laughter died. Graham was the first to speak. His eyes scanned me, wide and speechless, before narrowing in suspicion. “Where are you going dressed like that?” I reached the last step, looked him dead in the eyes, and replied coolly, “That’s none of your business.” His mother’s wine glass paused mid-air. “Excuse me? You’re in my son’s house.” I slowly turned to her and gave her a smile colder than ice. “And so? He’s gotten the child he’s always wanted, right?” I gestured lazily to Lillian. “So now, I’m going to get the fun I want.” Graham stood up sharply. “What the hell does that mean?” I tilted my head, lips curling. “It means I’m going to get myself a boyfriend.” The room fell into stunned silence. “You what?” he barked. Lillian scoffed. “Well, that didn’t take long.” His mother’s face turned red with rage. “You ungrateful little…” “I wasn’t talking to you,” I snapped, my voice so sharp it cut through the air like a blade. Graham’s brows furrowed, jaw clenched. “You’re my wife, Elena.” “And you’re the man who invited your pregnant mistress into our home, into our bed,” I hissed. “Wife or not, I’m done playing the fool.” “You think dressing like that and going out will change anything?” “No. But it’ll remind you of who I was before I became the woman you tried to break.” Lillian laughed mockingly. “God, the drama. Just leave already.” I took two steps toward her. “Don’t push me, Lillian.” “Oh please. You think you scare me?” “No, but I’d love to watch you scream.” “Elena!” Graham barked, stepping between us. His mother stood up. “Don’t you dare disgrace this family!” I let out a laugh… sharp and amused. “Oh, the family that brought in the side piece while I still wear the wedding ring? That family?” Lillian leaned into Graham’s ear. “Let her go, baby. She’s just bitter.” His mother crossed her arms. “Go ahead, Elena. Walk out that door. But you’ll come back and realize you’re nothing without my son.” That one stung. It always did. Because part of me used to believe it. But I tilted my chin and forced a smile. “I’ll come back when I’m done enjoying myself. You know, since it’s open marriage now.” Graham moved fast, stepping in front of me. “You can’t leave dressed like this. You’re still my wife.” I raised a brow. “Oh, now the husband card comes out?” I pushed past him slightly, but he grabbed my wrist. “Elena,” he said, his voice deeper now. “Don’t test me.” I pulled my wrist free and stepped back. “You wanted an open marriage?” I said sweetly. “You’ve got one. But don’t forget… I can open doors too.” He blinked. Looked at me. Really looked. And for the first time since this nightmare began… something flickered in his eyes. Regret? Panic? Possessiveness? I didn’t care. I dragged my eyes down his frame, back up to his face, and let my voice drop, seductive and venomous. “Don’t worry. I’ll have fun.” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair, pacing slightly. “You’re being ridiculous.” “Oh no,” I said, flashing a dazzling smile. “I’m just getting started.” Then I turned on my heels and walked out of that house like I wasn’t burning inside.