One Weekend with the Billionaire Chapter 52

*Julia*

I hear the alarm going off and brace myself. I’ve lain awake for most of the night, not able to sleep. Thinking about Braxton, dreading Jeff’s fury. He said very little to me last night, which was unusual and unsettling. Normally, Jeff doesn’t hesitate to let me know when he is upset with my choices, but last night, his silence was deafening.

Now, I expect the same routine we’ve gone through every morning for as long as I can remember. Jeff pushing my clothes aside, climbing on top of me, taking a few minutes to do his business, and then getting up to go to work.

Instead, things are different this morning, and I don’t know what to think of it. He rolls over and looks at me, his head propped on his hand, his elbow on the pillow. “Do you want to have sex?” he asks me, still half asleep.

I look at him, wondering what will happen if I say no. I don’t want to say yes, that is for sure, but then, he’s literally never asked me this question before. It’s as if he thinks all of those times before when he just climbed on top of me, like I was a doll or a prop or something, I was giving him my consent, like I wanted that to happen. If I say no, will he do it anyway? If I say no, will he get mad and hit me? If I say no… what will happen?

I have to say no. I definitely do not want to have sex with him. Not now. Maybe never again. In the hundreds of times we’ve had sex, I’ve wanted to only a handful of times, and it’s been years since I’ve been attracted enough to Jeff to want to have sex with him, but then, it’s not as if he’s been trying to get me in the mood or has even cared if I am turned on in the last year and a half, certainly not in these morning trysts.

I hesitate, not because I am unsure but because I don’t want to anger him. Still, when I speak, it is with resolve. “No,” I say quietly.

He is wide awake now. Jeff drops his eyes to the bed and then shrugs. “Probably had enough of that this weekend, huh? I bet the rich guy has a massive dick.”

“Jeff….” I begin but there isn’t anything I can say. He isn’t quite angry yet, maybe because he’s just building up to it, but he gets up from bed and heads to the shower, still muttering under his breath about how his wife is fucking his boss, and how she’ll never want to have sex with him again now because his dick is too small and he doesn’t have enough money to do anything about it.

Tears fill my eyes as I hear the water turn on and think about all of the things I want to shout at him. What about the fact that he signed the contract first? That he knew that I would be in a position where I’d be tempted to sleep with Braxton? Not that he even knows for sure that I did--but I wouldn’t deny it. Thoughts of being in Braxton’s arms, of what it is like to wake up next to him, come to mind. There’s no question I would want to have sex with Braxton if it were him propositioning me, but he would never just blurt it out like that. Braxton would’ve told me how beautiful I am, kiss me, get me ready, and then carry me off to a place where I would never want to return from. No, Braxton would never groggily ask me if I want to have sex the way that Jeff just did. He would never have to.

I decide to get up and get dressed while Jeff is in the bathroom so he doesn’t change his mind and decide we’re having sex anyway. It’s a little early to make his breakfast, so once I am wearing one of my old outfits, I go into the kitchen and fix some coffee--for myself. I will get his breakfast together, too, like I always do, but I will not bend over backward to make sure that he has absolutely everything that he needs like I always have before. He is an adult, not a child.

I can’t stop thinking of Braxton. Even as I fry Jeff’s eggs and make his toast, I am thinking about what Braxton might be doing right now. I imagine him in the dining room, eating breakfast, reading the paper, sipping coffee. I wonder if he is thinking about me and hope that he is.

When Jeff walks in, he is still angry. I slide his plate on the table and set down his coffee. “Wow, look at this,” he says in a sarcastic voice. “I guess my wife didn’t forget how to cook eggs while she was in the mansion.”

I say nothing, only walk out of the room, thinking he can handle the rest of this himself. I stand in front of the window in the living room, listening to him continue to go on about me and Braxton, saying all sorts of cruel things I am doing my best to ignore. When he’s done eating, he grabs his things and walks out the door, slamming it behind him, and I start to cry again, knowing I need to see Braxton soon.

As soon as I am sure Jeff won’t be coming back, I rush to my hiding spot and find the phone, praying Braxton answers.