“You’re delusional,” she said with a dismissive chuckle, glancing back toward the entranceway.
He looked at her as he leaned back in his chair with a confident smile. “The first door on your right when you walk upstairs is my bedroom. You’ll find a maid outfit in the closet.”
Her head snapped back to the table in an instant. She stared at him stone-faced for close to thirty seconds. Slowly but surely, she began to crack until her roaring laughter filled the kitchen. “Oh my God, you can’t be serious!”
Ryan continued to gaze at her with the same self-assured look that he had from the moment she first stepped inside his house.
“You think–” she laughed, barely able to speak. “You think I’m going to clean your house!? Oh my God!”
He took another sip of water, tranquil as ever.
“You’re too much!” she remarked before standing up and starting for the door. Suddenly, she stopped.
Eight Minutes Later.
She found herself standing in front of her neighbor’s upstairs bathroom mirror, adjusting her french maid outfit to show as much cleavage as possible. As good as she looked, the appearance of disbelief was vividly planted on her face. How did this happen? Why didn’t she just walk out the front door? Why didn’t she leave his house and forget all about their ridiculous conversation? Why did she stop, journey upstairs without saying a word, and retrieve the maid outfit from his closet? And it was the same outfit that she’d scolded Ashley for wearing last week! It was the very reason why her daughter was still grounded! She was such a hypocrite, but more importantly, why did all of this make her feel so good?
Was Ryan right? Were her primal urges something that she couldn’t control? Her neighbor was correct about one thing, and that was the fact that she didn’t look up to her husband in the least. In fact, she looked down on Tom, and she’d beaten herself up for years for being married to a man like him.
Her alleged soulmate behaved like a child. He didn’t even remotely resemble the type of guy who she used to dream of being with. Wasn’t that what every woman wished for? For a strong male figure to love and rely on. Someone who could lead and protect them. Someone to look up to and respect. Someone who pushed them to better their own lives. Tom didn’t do any of that, but Ryan did.
Was it his house? Or maybe it was his success? Or what about his body? Yeah, his body definitely had something to do with her lust. She respected men who cared about their own health and well-being, but there was something more–something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
It was his confidence. She fed off it. The way that he’d explained his thought process in such a calm and efficient demeanor was charming. He didn’t talk down to her, but he never showed any hint of weakness either. Every speed bump she tossed in his way was smoothly bypassed. It was like his voice had a hold over her, and she finally realized something as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror.
She was desperate for his approval.
One Hour Later.
She placed the last of her neighbor’s workout clothes in a basket next to the dryer after folding them. Over the past sixty minutes, she’d vacuumed, swept, dusted, ironed Ryan’s work clothes, and folded the large load of laundry in the dryer machine. And each time she completed a task, she strutted toward the next one with a bounce in her step.
She wanted Ryan to look at her with a sense of approval and to see her as an equal, but at the same time, she didn’t desire to be his peer. She needed him to be better than her. He was right. She sought the approval of a real man.
She carried the basket of clothes up the basement stairs before heading up even more steps on her way to Ryan’s bedroom. She decided to take a peek inside his closet after putting his garments away into their respective dresser drawers. Dress pants, dress shirts, ties, belts, suits, and dress shoes made up the right half, while casual shirts and athletic shoes filled the left side. The top shelf was for folded jeans and sweaters. It was the closet of an organized man who had his shit together. It was the polar opposite of what her husband’s closet looked like.
First off, Tom didn’t own any dress shirts or pants other than the one pair of khakis and that awful gray polo he would wear if he absolutely had to. Instead, his closet was full of childish t-shirts and scattered clothes on the floor. It was so messy and unorganized. She’d occasionally cleaned and organized it every few months throughout the first decade of their marriage, but she eventually scrapped that sporadic task due to a lack of appreciation.
A medium-size black wooden box jumped out at her as she took a peek in the lower left corner of his closet. She slid it out and looked inside, and her eyes instantly lit up. She couldn’t believe it.
It was full of the toys that Ashley told her about!
“Like anything you see?”
She turned and looked in the direction of a particular deep voice. Ryan leaned against his bedroom wall, staring at her with a t-shirt on this time. Clothed or not, she was enamored.
She lifted a ball gag from the top of the pile with a shaky hand.
“That’s a favorite,” he noted.
“Of yours?” she asked.
Ryan shook his head slowly.
“What’s your favorite?” she questioned, gazing back down into the box of toys. An unmistakable energy crawled along her skin.
“What do you think my favorite is?”
She moved a blindfold to the side to reveal a pair of steel handcuffs. Seconds later, she held them in the air. She prayed that her guess was correct.
Ryan smirked.
She was wet.
“The house looks nice,” he told her.
She didn’t have a chance to hide her smile. Honestly, she glowed with excitement. Was that all it took to bring her satisfaction? A simple compliment? It brought her so much happiness to just have someone appreciate her work. Tom always seemed to take everything she did for granted: the cooking, cleaning, and her sexual advances–it was all just expected. Married or not, she still liked validation.
“Good job,” he added.
She was six years old again. She was taken back to the days when a “good job” from her father was the highlight of her week. Male appreciation was so important to her, yet she had a complete lack of it in her life. She didn’t desire for Tom to make more money or to become an amazing conversationalist. What she truly needed was someone who made her feel like a woman, and appreciating the work a woman puts in–especially inside the home–was worthy of praise.
Her fingers trailed the length of a rugged black leather paddle inside the box of toys. She held it in the air and turned to the door to ask, “What about this one?”
Ryan was gone.
She felt his presence vanish from the room. His strong, powerful, dominant aura disappeared, and she already longed for its return. Life was so empty without him around.
She hung her outfit back in his closet after changing, and made sure to return the box of toys into the corner. One last smile was all she needed. Another “good job” would leave her with eternal joy. His appreciation would get her through another week with Tom.