Elena's POV
"They told you," Daniel whispers again, his face pale. "Didn't they?"
I can't speak. My voice is trapped somewhere between shock and something that feels dangerously close to hope. The silence in the room is suffocating.
Adrian stands first. "Daniel, we had to. You've been putting this off for two weeks—"
"Two weeks?" The words explode out of me. I whip around to face my husband. "You've been planning this for two weeks and didn't say anything?"
Daniel's hands grip his wheelchair so tight his knuckles turn white. "I was trying to find the right time—"
"The right time?" I'm on my feet now, shaking. "The right time to tell your wife you want to share her with your best friends? When exactly is that, Daniel? Over breakfast? During physical therapy?"
"Elena, please—"
"No!" I feel two years of silence breaking apart inside me. "You don't get to 'please' me. You don't get to make decisions about my body, my life, without even talking to me first!"
Marcus moves closer, his voice calm. "He was scared. We all were."
"Scared?" I spin to face him. "You were scared? I've been slowly dying in this house for two years, and you were scared?"
"Yes," Marcus says simply, his gray eyes steady on mine. "Scared you'd say no. Scared you'd be disgusted. Scared we'd lose you completely."
The honesty in his voice steals my anger. I sink back into the chair, my legs too weak to hold me up.
"I don't understand any of this," I whisper. "This is insane. People don't... marriages don't..."
"Normal marriages don't," Adrian says gently, sitting back down. "But we stopped being normal the night of the accident, Elena. We've all been pretending otherwise, but we're not."
Daniel wheels closer, and for the first time in months, he really looks at me. Actually sees me. "I've been watching you disappear. Every day, a little more of you fades away. And it's my fault."
"Don't—"
"It is," he cuts me off, his voice cracking. "The accident took my legs, Elena. But I took your life. I pushed you away because I couldn't stand seeing the disappointment in your eyes every time you looked at me."
"I was never disappointed—"
"You were lonely," Daniel says flatly. "You are lonely. I see it. Adrian and Marcus see it. Hell, probably everyone sees it except you, because you're too busy being the perfect, understanding wife."
Tears stream down my face. "What did you expect me to do? Leave you? You needed me—"
"I need you happy," Daniel says fiercely. "And you're not. You haven't been for two years. So I asked myself—what do I do? Let you suffer? Let you leave? Or find another way?"
"Another way," I repeat numbly. "You mean letting your best friends sleep with me."
The words sound obscene out loud. Wrong. But also... something else. Something that makes heat pool low in my stomach, and that makes the shame even worse.
Adrian leans forward. "It's not just about sex, Elena. Though yes, that's part of it. It's about giving you what Daniel can't anymore. Affection. Touch. Intimacy. All the things a marriage needs to survive."
"And you're both just... willing to do this?" I look between them, searching their faces for signs of a joke, a trick, anything that makes sense. "Share me like some kind of toy?"
Marcus's expression darkens. "You're not a toy. You're the woman we've both been in love with for years. The woman we've watched suffer while we stood by helpless because she belonged to someone else."
My heart stops. "What?"
"I fell in love with you at your wedding," Adrian admits quietly. "Watching you smile at Daniel, I knew I'd never have that. But I wanted it. Wanted you. I buried it deep because you were my best friend's wife. But it never went away."
"I lasted six months," Marcus adds, his voice rough. "Six months of watching Daniel take you for granted. Six months of seeing you light up every room you walked into while he barely noticed. I almost stopped coming around because it hurt too much to see you and not be able to tell you how incredible you are."
I'm crying harder now, my whole body shaking. "This is crazy. You're both crazy. I'm married—"
"To a man who hasn't touched you in two years," Daniel says, and the pain in his voice mirrors my own. "Elena, I love you. I will always love you. But I can't give you what you need. And watching you wither away is worse than any injury I got in that accident."
"So you're just... giving me away?" The words taste bitter.
"No," Daniel says firmly. "I'm sharing you with men I trust. Men who will take care of you the way you deserve. Men who will worship you the way I should have been doing all along."
"And what do you get out of this?" I demand. "You just... watch? Feel noble about your sacrifice?"
Daniel flinches, but his eyes don't leave mine. "I get to keep you. That's what I get. Because if I don't do something, I know you'll leave eventually. Maybe not tomorrow or next month, but someday, you'll realize you're too young to be this unhappy. And I'll lose you forever."
The truth of his words hits me like a punch. Because he's right. I've been thinking about it. Late at night, alone in our bed, I've been thinking about what it would be like to leave. To find someone who wants me. Who sees me.
"I don't know what to say," I whisper.
"Say you'll think about it," Adrian urges. "That's all we're asking. Don't decide now. Just... consider the possibility."
"Consider letting two men seduce me while my husband watches?" I laugh, but it sounds broken. "That's what you're asking."
"I'm asking you to let yourself be happy," Daniel says. "However that looks. With Adrian. With Marcus. With both of them. I don't care, Elena. I just need you to stop dying inside."
Marcus crouches in front of my chair, his face level with mine. This close, I can see the gold flecks in his gray eyes. Can smell his cologne—something woodsy and male that makes my head spin.
"You think these feelings you have are wrong," he says softly. "The attraction. The wanting. You think it makes you a bad wife."
I can't answer. Can't admit it out loud.
"It doesn't," Marcus continues. "It makes you human. And there's nothing wrong with wanting to feel alive again."
His hand reaches up slowly, giving me time to pull away. When I don't, his fingers brush my cheek, wiping away my tears. The touch is electric. Two years without being touched like this—with desire, with tenderness—and my body lights up like it's been starving.
Which it has.
"We would never pressure you," Adrian adds. "Never expect anything. But if you wanted... if you needed..."
"We're here," Marcus finishes. "We've always been here."
I look at Daniel. My husband. The man I promised forever to. He's watching me with sad, hopeful eyes.
"You really want this?" I ask him. "This isn't some kind of test?"
"It's not a test," Daniel promises. "It's me trying to save us the only way I know how."
My phone buzzes in my pocket, making us all jump. I pull it out with shaking hands. It's a text from an unknown number:
I know what you're planning. What you're all planning. And I'm going to make sure everyone else knows too. You have 24 hours to end this, or your secret becomes public. —A Friend
The blood drains from my face.
"What is it?" Adrian asks, alarmed by my expression.
I can't speak. Can't breathe. I just hold out the phone.
All three men crowd around to read the message. Daniel's face goes white. Marcus curses under his breath. Adrian's jaw clenches.
"Who the hell knows about this?" Marcus demands. "We've told no one—"
"Someone's been watching," Adrian says grimly. "Someone knows."
My mind races. Who could know? We've only talked about this today. Unless...
"How long have you three been discussing this?" I ask slowly. "Where have you talked?"
Daniel's eyes widen. "My office. Marcus's studio. Adrian's apartment. But we were always alone—"
"Were you?" I interrupt. "Are you sure?"
The silence that follows is terrifying.
Then my phone buzzes again. Another message:
Don't bother trying to figure out who I am. Just know that I've been watching for weeks. I know everything. And if you don't end this perverted arrangement, everyone will know. Your families. Your jobs. Everyone. Tick tock. —A Friend
"This is blackmail," Marcus growls.
"This is someone who wants to destroy us," Adrian corrects.
But all I can think is: how did someone find out? And what are they going to do if we don't comply?
Daniel reaches for my hand. "Elena, I'm sorry. I never meant for this to—"
"It doesn't matter," I cut him off, my voice surprisingly steady despite the terror coursing through me. "What matters is someone knows. Someone's been watching us. And they're threatening to expose everything."
"So we end it," Daniel says immediately. "We pretend this conversation never happened—"
"No," I say.
All three men stare at me.
"No?" Daniel repeats.
I stand up, wiping my tears away. Something fierce and defiant burns in my chest. For two years, I've been the good wife. The understanding wife. The wife who sacrifices everything.
I'm done being that woman.
"No," I repeat firmly. "I'm not going to let some stranger dictate my life. We have 24 hours? Fine. Then we have 24 hours to figure out who's doing this and stop them."
"Elena—" Adrian starts.
"And then," I continue, looking directly at my husband, "we're going to have a real conversation about this arrangement. About what I want. About what we all want. Because I'm done letting other people make choices for me."
Marcus grins slowly. "There's the fire."
Daniel looks torn between terror and pride. "You understand what you're saying? If this person follows through—"
"Then we'll deal with it," I say. "Together. All of us."
Adrian nods. "Together."
My phone buzzes a third time. With shaking hands, I check it:
Wrong choice, Elena. You just made this so much more interesting. Game on. —A Friend