No Permission Needed

I looked back at Declan over my shoulder. His eyes raked over my body, lingering on the exposed skin of my legs and the tight, revealing cut of the lace. It had been years since he actually cared about my safety or my comfort. I knew the truth. He wasn't worried about me catching a chill or attracting the wrong kind of attention in the city. He only cared about his pristine image and how his wife appeared to the outside world.

"Got an issue?" I shot back. I kept my voice flat, letting the challenge hang in the air between us.

Declan scowled, his brows pulling together in obvious annoyance. But he didn't argue further. He had a limit to how much conflict he would engage in, preferring to maintain his calm, detached facade.

"No," he muttered, turning his back to head up the stairs. "Just don't stay out late."

I scoffed under my breath. Behind me in the dining room, my mother continued to fuss over Hazel at the table. She cooed softly, spooning food and wiping the corners of Hazel's mouth. Looking at the two of them, a profound sense of defeat washed over my chest. I knew I couldn't ever love my daughter like a typical, unconditional mom anymore. The betrayal ran too deep in my veins.

I grabbed my keys from the marble console and walked out the front door. The cool night air hit my skin. When I reached the sprawling garage, my eyes swept past the sensible silver Mercedes-Benz E-Class Declan had bought for me years ago. I ignored it. Instead, I walked straight to the Bentley. I slid into the driver's seat, feeling the smooth leather against my bare thighs. I fired up the engine, enjoying the deep rumble, and floored the gas. I drove out into the dark night, leaving the suffocating mansion behind. The streetlights blurred into streaks of yellow and white as I merged onto the highway, the city skyline looming in the distance. The thrum of the engine beneath me felt like a physical manifestation of my newfound freedom.

I was meeting Audrey Mercer. We were old college friends, and she had spent the last few years hustling to become a top-tier, ruthless lawyer in the city. I had recently missed her big housewarming party. Hazel had been throwing up and suffering from severe diarrhea, an exhausting ordeal that kept me awake for forty-eight hours. When Declan finally came home, he didn't offer to help. He just blamed me, claiming I had been careless by taking her to a public playground.

I pulled up to the glowing neon marquee of the downtown theater. Audrey was already waiting in the lobby, her signature leather briefcase still in hand from her long day at the firm. When she saw me, she rushed over.

"Serena!"

Before she could say anything else, I handed her a small blue velvet box. "I missed your housewarming. This is my make-good gift."

Audrey popped the lid open. A gleaming gold bracelet rested on the black satin cushion. She gasped, her eyes going wide. "Oh my God, you are so awesome!" she squealed, a massive grin breaking across her face. But a second later, she shook her head and tried to push the box back into my hands. "No, this is way too much. I can't take this."

I caught her hand and held it firm. "If we are still friends, you will keep it."

Audrey blinked, tears glistening in her eyes. She stepped forward and pulled me into a tight, crushing hug. "Thank you. I love it."

When we pulled apart, I reached into my clutch and pulled out two movie tickets. I flashed them between my fingers.

Audrey smirked, raising an eyebrow at my sudden plans. "Whoa, look at you. Did your husband and kid finally grant you a day pass?"

I smiled with steadfast confidence. "I don't need their permission," I told her, my tone leaving no room for debate. "I run my own life now."

I meant every word. In my past life, I had endured a suppressed, gutless existence. I had played the role of the obedient wife and the self-sacrificing mother, shrinking myself down until I was nothing but a ghost in my own home. I was permanently shedding that pathetic skin.

We turned and walked toward the ticket podium. The lobby was packed with a weekend crowd, a sea of chattering couples and groups of teenagers lining up at the concession stands. The smell of buttery popcorn hung thick in the air. As we moved through the throng of people, Audrey reached out and playfully brushed her hand down my back, her fingers tracing the edges of the open back of my dress.

"Sorry," she whispered, leaning in close. "I had to touch. Your back looks amazing. When did you start wearing revealing lace outfits like this? You are usually so buttoned up."

"Do I look good?" I asked, enjoying the freedom of the fabric.

Audrey chuckled. "Half the men in this lobby are tripping over their own feet trying to get a look at you. Your back is a total distraction."

"Let them stare," I murmured indifferently. I didn't care about their lingering eyes.

Audrey nudged my shoulder. "Is Declan actually okay with your bold new style?"

I scoffed loud enough for a passing couple to hear. "A guy who tries to control what his wife wears is a total loser."

Audrey burst into laughter, drawing more stares from the crowd. She covered her mouth, her eyes sparkling with amusement. We grabbed our snacks and made our way into the dark, cavernous theater.

We found our seats in the middle row. The lights dimmed, casting long shadows across the room as the movie began to play. Audrey immediately dug into her bucket of popcorn, her eyes glued intently to the massive screen. I didn't care about the movie. I leaned back into the plush fabric of the seat, taking a deep breath. For the first time all day, I had a quiet moment to process the sheer magnitude of this time-travel reality.

I was twenty-six years old again. I was young enough to turn my life around.

In my previous life, I had willingly settled for being a wealthy housewife. I had pathetically clung to the fantasy of relying on my husband and praying for a future son to secure my place in the family. I had poured all my energy into Declan. But after a woman named Chloe showed up, Declan had systematically starved me of all intimacy. He cut me off cold.

I spent my nights feeling like a desperate, starving animal, begging for scraps of his attention. I was in my twenties, my hormones surging, my physical needs undeniable. Every month during ovulation, my body ached for him. My breasts felt heavy and sensitive, my nipples tight against the fabric of my nightgowns. My vagina throbbed with a hollow, wet ache, demanding the physical release that he flat-out refused to give me. I would put on sexy, sheer lingerie, pacing our bedroom and practically begging for his touch.

But he blatantly ignored my outfits. He would look right through me, his eyes dead and disinterested, before locking himself away in his study until midnight. Then he would sleep in the guest room. I was left alone in our massive bed, a pathetic mess of sexual frustration. The ache in my clitoris would grow so unbearable that I had to slide my fingers between my own wet lips, rubbing myself to a climax in the dark, only to cry into my pillow afterward because the orgasm left me feeling even more empty and discarded. He used that sexual withholding as a weapon, a deliberate tool to control me, break my spirit, and keep me desperate for his validation.

Suddenly, my phone rattled against the lining of my purse, jarring me from the bitter, humiliating memories.

I unclasped the bag and pulled the phone out. The screen lit up in the dim theater. It was Declan.

I stared at his name for a second, feeling nothing but cold indifference. I casually tossed the phone back into my bag.

"Who is it?" Audrey whispered, her mouth full of popcorn.

"Declan," I said. "I don't want to be interrupted during the movie."

Audrey's jaw dropped in shock. She stopped chewing, staring at me as if I had grown a second head. "Serena, that is Declan calling you."

In my past life, I had treated every single one of his calls like a royal command. I used to drop everything I was doing, terrified of being labeled a bad wife or a traitor if I missed even one ring. I was terrified he would pull away further if I wasn't at his beck and call. But I was done with his manipulative games. I was done chasing a man who weaponized his own dick against me.

I propped my chin on my hand, keeping my eyes fixed stubbornly on the movie screen. "I know it is him. I am not answering."

Audrey stared at me in disbelief, but she didn't push it.

Inside my purse, the phone rang persistently. The muffled buzzing vibrated against my leg for a long, drawn-out minute before finally going quiet. A profound sense of peace settled over me. Breaking his invisible leash felt intoxicating.

A few moments later, a sharp ping echoed from my bag. A text message had come through.

I reached in and pulled the phone out one last time. I looked down at the bright screen to see a text from Declan stating that Hazel had a stomachache, she needed the hospital, and demanding to know when I could come back.