An Accusation

Slick with sweat and limp with ecstasy, Athena collapsed back into the bed, her mind befogged by the mind-blowing sex with Ewan.

Her slender form was still severely racked by the spasms of her strong release. And her earlier smouldering rage had subsided significantly.

Athena knew if she prolonged campaigning for her separation from Ewan, that she might never really leave him.

Yes, the sex was that good. It was one thing she wouldn't fault Ewan for. He was good in bed, so good that it numbed her of her thoughts most times, probably why she had remained in this marriage this long. But no more.

Within seconds of their shared orgasm, Ewan had untangled, disengaged, and distanced himself from her, lying on his back next to her with laboured, ragged breathing.

Even after all this time, his words—which were usually wrenched from him at his climax—remained suspended in the air between them and continued to cause more pain than was necessary.

"Give me a son, Athena..." 

With those five words, he inevitably killed the afterglow, destroyed the intimacy of the moment and relegated the act into nothing more than a biological imperative. 

After three years of the same, Athena had finally realized that it would never change. It had taken the events of today to tell her that.

That's why she held strong to her own five words! 

They were words that had been on the tip of her tongue since he had met her in the bedroom after sending Fiona home two hours ago; words that had coated her mouth when he had plunged into her; words that she could no longer swallow back, no matter how much it killed her to say them.

She sat up naked, her body still trembling, and drew her knees to her chest. She wrapped her arms around her legs, pressed her cheek to her knees and watched as his breathing steadied; his own shaking was subsiding slightly.

Ewan lay spread-eagled, also magnificently nude. His eyes were shut but she knew he wasn't asleep. No, he would take a few moments to compose himself before heading for the shower, where she always imagined him frantically scrubbing her scent and touch from his bronzed skin.

She could no longer contain the words and they spilled from her lips with desperate earnestness.

"I still want a divorce, Ewan. I won't demand for anything else. Please, just let me go." Please let me and your child go.

Ewan tensed, every single muscle in his body went as tight as a coiled spring, before he turned his head to meet her watchful gaze. His eyes were hooded and his upper lip curled mockingly.

 "But I thought you loved me, Athena. You reveled me with that in the early months of our marriage…" He taunted with exquisite cruelty and Athena lowered her eyelids, trying to mask the shaft of pain in his words. 

When she was sure she had her emotions under control, she once again lifted her eyes to his dark gaze. 

"Not anymore," She managed, hoping the lie sounded convincing. "Things change." 

"What things?" Ewan rolled onto his side and propped himself up onto his elbow, resting his head on his hand. 

"Feelings, and I've changed." Athena answered softly.

Ewan chuckled. A snide chuckle, which caused her to flinch more than words would. 

And just when she thought he wouldn't answer her again, she heard him speak, coldly.

"Maybe for you… I actually don't care…" Ewan shrugged. "But like I told you earlier today; no son, no divorce. That isn't hard now to grasp, is it?"

 "Fiona would be happy to carry your son. Why don't you get married to her? You seem to love her." Athena asked, burying her face in her knees, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

"I wish. But it isn't Fiona that holds the treasure..." Ewan answered. "This is the last time we will discuss this." He added, before getting up and walking, naked, to the en-suite bathroom, where she believed he dutifully scrubbed her scent off his body.

Athena heard the shower start moments later and took a few seconds to compose herself, swiping the hot tears from her face with the backs of both hands before dragging on a gauzy peignoir and heading toward the kitchen to make herself a hot drink.

While she was sitting on a bar stool, sipping her hot chocolate fifteen minutes later, she felt Ewan's presence behind her and the hairs in the nape of her neck stood on end. His aura was colder than usual. What happened now?

"What is the meaning of this, Athena? Who is this man?" He asked with a voice of steel, gently dropping a phone in front of her, before fisting his hands by his side.

Athena furrowed her eyebrows as she stared into his phone. Her eyes widened in unbelief when she saw herself, no, definitely not her, in the arms of a naked man on a bed. It looked so intimate, so real, that she almost baffed. 

Her eyes then strayed to the sender of the message. It was Fiona. She scoffed.

"That's not me. It's edited. Nice work though, by Fiona, the best friend."

She commented flippantly, about to take up the cup for a sip of hot chocolate, when Ewan gently stopped her midway—by placing his hand on the cup, or rather, on her hand on the cup.

Athena jerked involuntarily, her hand leaving the cup, as if his touch had burned her, causing the cup to fall to the ground and break in pieces. Ewan never touched her, unless they were in bed. 

Her eyes traveled to Ewan, when he took the next stool to hers, confused when she saw the whirl of emotions there. 

There was anger, there was confusion, and there was…she didn't want to believe it, didn't want to admit it, but there was hurt too, and jealousy—if she wanted to humor herself. 

But why would he feel that way? Ewan hated her; he reminded her of that on a daily basis, either by his sparse words, or his cold actions.

"You can talk to me, Athena. For one, I know this wasn't edited. So, tell me, Athena, who is this man?"

"That is not me, Ewan. I have never cheated on you before. You should ask your best friend where she bought the image from rather." She stated, her hand flying to her stomach, when Ewan pounded his right fist on the table angrily. 

She had never seen him like this, had never seen him crack like this. Seeing her with another man must have unsettled him greatly. If she had known about this secret earlier…she might have gone out often with her best friend, Gianna.

"Do you take me as a fool, Athena? Fiona can never lie to me! Why would she? I gave you a chance to redeem yourself, either by a truth or a lie, yet you chose to deny the picture completely. You think it a joke to taint my reputation? Do you know this is all over the socials??" Ewan shouted at Athena in rage, losing control of himself for the first time, not understanding why she would cheat on him, not understanding the exact reason why he was shouting.

Didn't she love him? He queried himself for the second time today. What has changed? 

Athena stood up then, drawing strength from the baby in her womb, not believing that he would believe such farce, yet knowing that he would always choose Fiona over her, at every turn. "Ewan, that is not me." 

"I think I have seen enough of your body, Athena, to know if you are the one. Put on a dress, wife. We are going to see your father. Seems you will be getting that divorce after all." Ewan spoke, his voice re-attaining its cold and aloof quality, his emotions congealing once more into ice.