Just yesterday, I was the happiest girl in the world. Now, I watch my husband, Jaxson Kingston—star defenseman for the Thunder Bay Titans—flirt with fans after a game. The man who has been my everything since we were sixteen just gave me an ultimatum: agree to an open marriage, or he’ll leave.

He wants his freedom. He says it will be good for us. But the scent of cheap perfume and alcohol on him tells me he’s already started. “Have you made your decision?” he spits cruelly. “Divorce or open marriage?”

I still hear him whistling up the stairs after he set the rules—seven-month trial, total discretion, date night once a week—then disappeared for good.

“By April we’ll reassess,” he promised, pecking my hair.

My heart is shattered. I’m alone in our big, empty house, clinging to memories of a man who no longer exists.

———————

September

Amelia

Just yesterday, I was the happiest girl in the world. My life felt complete and uncomplicated-well, as uncomplicated as it can be when you're married to a famous pro hockey player. Now, not so much.

Tonight, I'm watching my husband, Jaxson Kingston, Jax for short, play one of his best games ever. As the star defenseman for the Thunder Bay Titans, he's a confident strategist on the ice.

Even though it's just a preseason exhibition game for charity, it's intense. The Titans are up against the Steel Port Ice Hawks, their biggest archrivals. When these two teams meet, you can feel the energy in the packed arena. They're playing like it's a playoff battle, not a charity match.

This game is for TrueNorth's Hockey Camp for Kids. TrueNorth isn't just a cold-weather clothing line; they're one of Jaxson's paid sponsors and are all about supporting the upcoming generation. The proceeds will cover camp fees for kids who can't afford them.

Sitting in the stands used to fill me with pride, especially when Jaxson's strong body plowed into opponents, dominating the rink. But tonight, my stomach sinks as I watch the women scream for his attention.

He skates to the group gathered at the designated fan zone during a break. He's laughing, flirting, accepting pecks and touches, autographing photos, and even signing a few body parts. I want to throw up.

He's a confident, attractive man, and this morning, he asked me for an open marriage. We've been together for five years and married for two. And now, he's telling me he'll leave if I don't agree.

He's been my high school sweetheart since we were sixteen. I've never been with anyone else, and I love him so much! I'm devastated.

After the show, Jax put on following the game last night, I just left. Usually, I'd hang around and talk to Jax and the guys on the team to congratulate them, but I didn't have it in me. So, I went home without a word.

Jax's side of the bed next to me is unwrinkled and cold. Again, he didn't come home. On nights like this, he claims he stays over with some of the guys for the after-party. It's always been a point of contention in our marriage. He wants to go; I want him home. He doesn't care and ignores my feelings. Other married players don't take part in the all-nighters, so why does he feel the need to?

I've attended a few of the after-parties and noticed that some women dress provocatively, trying to attract attention. They don't have to try hard with a bunch of rowdy, drunk, adrenaline-charged men. It's like a kid in a candy store.

I'm not clueless. If Jax isn't already cheating on me, he's eagerly pushing for an open marriage to fulfill his own desires. He knows I've only ever been with him, and the thought of being intimate with anyone else is utterly unappealing. I would never cheat on him; the idea of an open marriage disgusts me. It's just another way he selfishly disregards my feelings.

I'm unsure what to do, so I pick up my cell phone to see if he called, but there's nothing. No missed calls, no messages. He could be dead in a ditch somewhere, or I could be for all he knows. He didn't even check to see if I made it home last night. I look at his location, and of course, it's turned off.

Blowing out a huge breath, I pull myself up in bed and head to the bathroom for a shower. It's time to start my day. While Jax is a hockey player, I'm a professional ice skater. He and I started young in our hometown of Montreal. We both cut our teeth on the ice, our fathers were NHL players, and we grew up skating.

While Jax followed in both our fathers' footsteps to play hockey, I pursued my dreams of dancing and ice skating. Although Jax has developed his career, mine has been put on hold. Fortunately, to support his job, we need to live near ice rinks, which Thunder Bay has in abundance. So even though I have had to set my career goals aside, I practice new routines whenever Jax is otherwise occupied. He wants me to be a stay-at-home wife, completely dependent on him, so I must hide the fact that I still pursue it.

He wasn't always so controlling, but since we got married, he seems to have become more insecure about me for some reason and holds me back in every aspect of my life.We used to talk about having babies, but now he brushes me off, saying we're too young or that he's too busy to devote time to children. Yet, here I am, alone in this big, fancy house with no one. Even in the off-seasons, he stays so busy with endorsements and charity work that I'm always left alone.

I'm so thankful for my friends, Nita and Shelly, who are my constant companions. Even though Jax doesn't know it, he doesn't want me to have friends or go out because they are single and would be a bad influence. I'm not sure where that comes from, considering his all-nighters with his single friends, drinking, and who knows what else. But I better not be caught dead in the produce section talking to my friends. I just think he has a double standard.

And it's not like I have family I can call or talk to either. Mom was one of Dad's groupies, so she disappeared after I was born. I grew up with a few nannies. Dad was a womanizer who often kicked them out after sleeping with them. I think that's why I'm so averse to opening my marriage, aside from the thought of sharing my husband.

Dad remarried just after I graduated from high school, to a woman who never really accepted me. We visit at Christmas, but it's surface-level. Polite, distant. More like acquaintances than family.

Jaxson and I started dating when we were sixteen and got married two years later, right after graduation. Now I'm twenty-one, and it appears my marriage might be coming to an end.

I hear the garage door engage and look out the window to see Jaxson pull in. What do you know? He found his way home , I think sarcastically.

"Melia?" he calls as he enters the room. "Hey, baby." He reaches for me, but I pull away.

"Eww, Jaxson!" I nearly gag as the cloud of cheap perfume, intercourse, and alcohol hits me. "You stink. I really don't want to have to take another shower."

"I didn't have a change of clothes," he snaps, looking offended, then waves me off. "Anyway, we need to finish the conversation about opening our marriage."

"Given how you smell, it seems like you've already started. Why should we even discuss it?" I quip, tears welling up, but I fight to hold them back. I don't want him to do me any favors by feeling sorry for me. If he can't stay faithful to me because he loves me, without manipulation, I'm not sure I want to still be in this marriage.

"Well, I've been trying to talk some sense into you for a month now," he fires back haughtily. "Have you made your decision? Divorce or open marriage?" he spits cruelly.

His words sting. I close my eyes and turn back to the sink. I wish my heart would just let go. He's all I have left, and I love him so much. I can't imagine my life without him.

He grabs my shoulders as if to hug me, pulling me closer. "Melia, you know it's you I love. Let's just get this out of our systems, okay?"

I jerk away once again.

"Listen, baby, it's the start of the season," he says, his tone softening. "I promise that by the end of April, we'll talk about it again and figure it out. If you're still not on board, we'll close it up. Okay?"

"Fine! Take a shower! You stink!" I snap, frustration getting the best of me.

He pecks my head and laughs. "You won't regret this, baby. You'll see. It'll be good for us to experiment so we can appreciate what we have."

"Okay," I choke out, relieved that I sound normal.

"Before I go shower, let's set some rules. Will that make you more comfortable?"

I just stare at him. Nothing will make me comfortable in this situation, I think, but I don't voice it because it's clear he doesn't care. He wants to have his cake and eat it too. I have no say in the matter.

I nod in agreement.

"First of all," he begins, sitting down at the table and pulling me with him. As I take a seat across from him, he reaches for my hands, but I quickly place them in my lap. "A seven-month trial period-from October to April, during the season. I've a lot of road games this year anyway."

He dips his head and peers into my eyes with that cajoling look of his. Little does he know, it doesn't affect me at all right now. As much as I love him, this slimy, cake-eater side of him is nauseating.

"Second," he continues, "we'll talk every day and have date night once a week, just the two of us."

Date night. I've been asking him for months to take me out, but he hasn't been able to pull himself away from his friends long enough to do it.

"Third, discretion," he adds. "We can't allow reporters to get hold of any rumor fodder.

"Then you need to stop parading around with your women after the games like you do."

"That's just fans, Melia," he urges. "I have to do that for them. It's my job."

Nice. I haven't heard that excuse before , I think sarcastically. "I don't see any of the other married players acting like you do."

"Okay. While we conduct this fun little experiment, I'll refrain from entertaining the fans like I do in public." He grins. Yeah, I know exactly what that means. It'll be private now. It probably already is.

"Anything else?" I ask, my tone surly, but he ignores it. I'm not sure he even realizes the hurt he's inflicting. It doesn't register because he couldn't care less.

"I think we've got it hashed out, baby," he says, pecking my head again as I quickly move away. He doesn't notice anything; he's too darn thrilled. "If anything comes up, we can just talk it out."

He starts upstairs toward our bedroom, whistling and taking the steps two at a time. I hear the shower kick on, and then he begins singing. Haven't seen him this happy in months.

Bile rises in my throat, and I race to the small powder room just in time to heave up anything left in my stomach. Then, the tears begin. Quietly, I slide to the floor, sobbing softly at the pain in my chest. Jaxson has ripped my heart in two and left me bleeding out emotionally.

I don't know how long I stay on the floor; until I hear Jaxson calling my name.

"Amelia, where are you?"

I clear my throat, trying to sound as normal as possible. "In the powder room."

"Oh," I hear him approach the door. "I'm... uh... going to play golf with the guys," he stammers.

I shake my head. Still with the lies. You'd think he'd had enough of women last night, wouldn't you?

"Okay."

"See ya later, baby," he says.

That was a month ago, and I haven't seen him since.