Chapter 71: What’s considered cheating?

Tom let the phone ring out the first time.

It was still ringing when the System chimed in again.

[Update available.] It announced then a familiar interface unfolded in front of him — Stella’s.

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[TARGET: STELLA MARCHETTI]

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Curiosity: 90%

Attraction: 70%

Love: 5% (+4%)

Obsession: 22%

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Status: Destabilizing

Notes: Residual effect from previous night. Emotional attachment beginning to form beyond appetite and thrill.

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"Uh?" Tom mumbled as he stared at the update. It was small but the fact that it came unexpected made him surprised and seemed like a large increment. Maybe because of what had happened the previous night.

Someone he expected to be upset was falling in love?

[Aftermath lag,]

[The body finishes first. The mind follows later. Last night left more than heat behind.] the System said, in a conversational tone.

He mumbled something unintelligent under his breath again, not knowing what to do with that information. Then the incoming call had ended, now being a missed call. After a moment he unlocked his phone and returned the call before the feeling could turn into another hesitation.

Stella answered on the first ring.

"Hello, Tom."

The brightness in her voice was so immediate it threw him. It was not the careful, elegant public tone she wore like armor. She sounded excited.

Tom’s brows furrowed in confusion on instinct. "Hey... Is everything alright?" the question tumbled out before he could stop it

"Absolutely." There was loud movements on her end then her breath went louder. ℯℯ𝘭.

"I want to take you somewhere today..." she announced.

He sat up a little straighter. "Where?"

"That’s the surprise." A small breath, then more firmly: "Clear your day. I mean all of it. And just bear in mind that you will be needed the whole day, I don’t want a rushed hour between obligations."

The request landed heavier than a casual outing. Tom rubbed his thumb along the edge of the phone. "Why?"

"Because after everything we’ve done, I feel like hosting you properly. I feel like it’s the right time to do that." Her voice lowered, not shy, just more honest. "You know... Without a fiancé downstairs or a restaurant full of eyes."

Tom’s heart jumped. He exhaled.

"I don’t think today will work." he said calmly.

"Ouch." The brightness in Stella’s voice dimmed, but it didn’t vanish completely.

"That’s disappointing. I already started putting things in place." Then, blunt as a finger to the anus, she added: "What exactly are you doing with your entire day that’s more important?"

He opened his mouth but before he could make out a word, Stella cut in smoothly;

"And don’t mention your wife."

"I know you aren’t truly married," she continued simply as if she was just complimenting a fine outfit. "You can spare us both the performance."

Tom froze for half a second. Then a dry, short laugh escaped him. Of course she knew. These women missed less than they pretended.

"How long have you known?" he asked.

"Long enough. The blogs help... With their constant evaluation of the marriage’s authenticity but they’re not required. Real marriages have a particular smell. Yours doesn’t." she replied.

"Fascinating." that was the one word Tom could produce in response.

"I thought so. So why can’t you make it?" She returned to the point without missing a step.

Tom glanced toward the closed door, then back at the empty air in front of him. "I have an outing with your fiancé. A wine evening." he divulged.

The line went quiet. After two seconds of absolute silence, Stella let out a short, but sharp huff, sounding exactly like a woman who had offered something and watched it get ranked below another man’s invitation.

"And you *want* to go?" she asked, laying emphasis on the ’want’.

Tom didn’t dress it up. "Yes." he replied bluntly.

As his response landed, the call ended so cleanly it took him a second to realize she had hung up.

He lowered the phone and stared at the darkened screen, the sudden absence of her voice leaving the room oddly still. One moment she had been arranging a whole day around him. The next, nothing.

The System chimed and almost politely, it announced;

[Host has displeased the target.]

Tom’s mouth flattened and he replied in sarcasm. "Thank you very much for the wonderful information which I didn’t even know before until you’re just telling me." he said then gritted his teeth.

[Anytime,] the System replied, entirely too cheerful, fully aware of what he did.

~~~~~~~~~~

Across the house, Sienna stood in front of her dressing mirror in a half-buttoned blouse, her makeup had been partially done... She was slow at it this morning.

The ordinary routine of preparing for work was failing to hold her attention as her mind kept spinning.

A detail from the previous evening kept returning with increasing clarity;

Stella rising from the table, Tom standing up a short while later, putting his phone to his ear and giving the excuse about network and a client. Then Stella returning flushed, with a composure that seemed to have shaken, claiming she did not feel well.

Sienna’s hands stilled on the collar of her blouse.

It was possible they had only crossed paths by coincidence. Possible. Her mind, which rarely granted comfortable possibilities when sharper ones were available, offered the other version instead: that they had met, that something had happened in that interval, that the flush on Stella’s face had not come from illness.

She scoffed under her breath at the analysis then her brain hooked on a hole in Tom’s performance.

"His phone didn’t ring..." She remembered sharply.

Anger came first.. Hot, hot. Then it tangled with something less easy, so difficult to name. Even if the marriage was contractual, even if affection had never been the foundation, the structure still existed. Publicly, legally, in the eyes of anyone who mattered for the launch, he was her husband. Her mind analysed and that only made her anger boiled hotter.

Which made Stella Marchetti’s involvement look less like private recklessness and more like an intrusion.

"Even in a contract marriage,, isn’t this still considered cheating?" she said quietly to the mirror.

The question did not ask for an answer. It arranged one.

Her eyes narrowed, a glint of mischief cutting through the anger and the mischievous part of her which was actually a bigger part of her concluded on the spot that Stella Marchetti needed a reminder that married men, contracted or otherwise, were not open inventory.

Sienna looked at her reflection in the mirror, the current outfit was correct and appropriate for the office but...

It was entirely wrong for the shape of the thought forming behind her eyes.

Sienna stripped the blouse off in one motion and walked to her wardrobe, already discarding the day’s original plan for something better suited to the confrontation she had decided to create.