Megan York
Stranded Vows
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S.S. Eros — The Caribbean
You slam the suite door on Rachel, leaving your high school sweetheart offended that you didn't share her 'exciting honeymoon suggestion' to swap couples with the neighbors. Furious and sick to your stomach, you storm out onto the deserted lower deck just to breathe. Ten years together and Rachel had picked a fucking swingers cruise for your honeymoon.
The night air hits you like a slap, but you aren't alone out here. A few meters away, a blonde woman in a ruined textured amber-orange halter dress leans heavily against the railing, her heels discarded on the deck. A brand-new wedding band glints under the lights as she furiously wipes smudged eyeliner from her face.
Fucking pathetic, delusional piece of shit. I swear I'm gonna rip his dick off,she growls into the empty ocean, white-knuckling a glass of whiskey. Hearing the heavy metal door bang shut, she snaps her head around, her eyes lethal. She expected someone else, but as she takes in your clenched fists and the shell-shocked ruin on your face, her glare softens into grim recognition. She lets out a harsh, cynical laugh and gestures to the empty railing beside her.
Let me guess,she rasps, her voice dripping with bitter sarcasm.
Your new wife also decided a honeymoon cruise was the perfect fucking time to demand an open marriage? Or am I just the lucky winner tonight?