My Hot Wife's Double Life - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

The room stood eerily empty except for Sophia sprawled across the bed. Completely nude, she was working a pink toy between her legs with slow, deliberate movements.
When my foot connected with the door, it flew open with a bang. Sophia shrieked and threw her arms over her face. "Jesus, Ethan! What the hell? Ever heard of knocking?"
"I—uh—" My face burned like I'd stuck it in an oven. "Emily said she was here. Wanted to surprise her. Shit. I'm... I'm just gonna..." I backpedaled so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet.
Downstairs, fate decided to twist the knife deeper as I collided with Sophia's husband. "Hey Ethan! Stick around for a drink?"
"No thanks! Emily's not here. Gotta go find her." My voice cracked like a teenager's.
"Need a ride somewhere?"
"God no!" I practically sprinted out the door, the mental image of his wife's naked body seared into my brain. Please don't let her tell him, I prayed silently. Future barbecues would be unbearably awkward.
Outside, the crisp air slapped some sense into me. Emily's lie unraveled in my mind like cheap yarn. If she wasn't at Sophia's... where the hell was she?
My fingers trembled as I dialed. Five rings. Six. Seven.
Finally, her breathless voice answered. After some verbal dancing, the truth tumbled out. "Baby, I'm sorry. I was showing a property to a male client and didn't want you worrying. Nothing happened, I swear!"
The anger drained from me. "Where are you? I'm coming to get you."
"Near Central Park. Can't get a cab. Was about to walk home in these death traps." Her resigned sigh traveled through the phone.
When I pulled up, there she stood—Manhattan's most beautiful sight with her designer heels dangling from one hand. Her delicate feet glowed an angry red from the concrete's abuse.
"You're killing me, Em." I scooped her up, my chest aching. "Should've called me hours ago."
"Mmm, that's why I love you." She nuzzled into my neck.
At home, I ran a basin of warm water. As I massaged her feet, angry red patches on her knees caught my eye. "What happened here?"
Emily's cheeks flushed pink. "Because someone keeps making me kneel on hardwood floors? They were red all morning. My coworkers totally noticed. So humiliating."
Oh. Right. Last night's adventures flashed through my mind.
Since The Incident, I'd been dodging Sophia like she carried the plague. Yet she kept showing up at my place, acting like nothing happened. But the way her eyes lingered... something wasn't right.
If a woman like Sophia needed battery-operated assistance, maybe her husband really was firing blanks. Almost felt bad for the guy.
Sunday arrived faster than a subway train.
Emily had been transparent about her plans, so I wasn't sweating it. My agenda? Twofold: keep tabs on my wife, and schmooze potential investors about reopening the factory.
At six sharp, Lucas rolled up in his obnoxiously expensive car. "Big property launch tonight, bro. Got your back. Plenty of thirsty real estate ladies." He winked like a sleazy cartoon character.
"Yeah, sure." I forced a smile.
Let's be clear—I'm no saint. But I'm no cheater either. Emily's my ride or die.
Lucas launched into his usual toxic spiel: "Gotta sample the buffet while you're young, man. Variety's the spice of life, am I right?" He nudged me like we were sharing some profound wisdom instead of his sad midlife crisis talking.