Chapter 177: Chapter 177

The scent of grilled fish and miso filled the kitchen.

Kyouko stood by the counter, gently arranging the dishes.

Her movements were graceful, unhurried—like always.

But inside her, everything still trembled from last night.

Haruki had been relentless.

Ravishing her for hours... and only stopping near midnight.

She could still remember the moment clearly.

Her hands braced on the sill as Haruki held her hips and moved deep inside her.

Her breath fogging the glass.

Her legs nearly giving out.

The sound of Satoshi’s car outside the gate.

But Haruki hadn’t stopped.

Whispered that he wasn’t finished.

She wanted to resist, but her body was already too lost.

She clung to him, heart racing, until he finally released inside her.

Then, with trembling fingers, she adjusted her blouse.

And walked to the front door like nothing had happened.

She pressed the gate remote.

The metal slowly slid open.

Satoshi stepped out of the car, followed by Satomi.

Kyouko stood there—waiting, like a proper wife, like a proper mother, after returning from a long trip.

"Oh, you’re home?" Satoshi said, not even looking her in the eye.

"I’m going inside. I’m tired," Satomi muttered, brushing past her without pause.

After more than two months away...

No question of how she was.

Just cold indifference.

Kyouko stood quietly by the door, her expression composed.

But inside her chest, something tightened.

She wasn’t surprised.

Twenty years of silence, neglect, had taught her what to expect.

Last night, she had been taken like a woman.

Held like someone cherished.

Loved until she forgot where she was.

Now she was back in their house.

Back to being invisible.

Inside Kyouko’s mind, the scene from last night kept replaying.

The moment Haruki took her by the window.

The heat of his body behind her.

The sound of his breath in her ear.

It should have terrified her.

But instead... it excited her.

She bit her lip , standing in the kitchen, remembering the feeling.

What if they had caught us?

Her heart fluttered just imagining it.

What would their faces look like?

If Satoshi... if Satomi... had walked in through the gate just a little earlier—

And looked up to see her, braced against the window frame, Haruki’s arms locked around her waist...

His body moving against hers...

His length buried deep inside her... right in front of them.

It wasn’t the shame that stirred her.

The wicked thrill of nearly being seen.

Nearly being exposed.

A small smile tugged at her lips.

What would Haruki do next?

Or would he push deeper?

She didn’t know the answer.

But she wanted to find out.

And that—that—was what scared her the most.

How much she wanted more.

The sound of footsteps echoed from the stairwell.

Satoshi appeared first, dressed in his usual pressed suit, adjusting his cufflinks without a word.

Satomi followed behind him in a crisp blouse and fitted skirt, her heels tapping lightly against the wooden stairs.

Kyouko glanced toward them from the kitchen, offering her usual soft smile.

"Dear. Satomi. Breakfast first," she said gently, placing the last dish on the table.

"Mm." Satoshi nodded curtly and pulled out a chair at the end of the dining table.

Satomi sat beside him without a word, glancing briefly at the spread on the table.

Rice. Miso. Grilled salmon. Tamagoyaki. Fresh fruit. All carefully prepared.

Kyouko stood behind her own chair for a moment.

Moment later, Haruki appeared.

Casual, quiet, freshly showered—dressed in a simple T-shirt and shorts.

He stepped into the dining room without a word, eyes briefly meeting Kyouko’s.

"Honey, sit down and eat," Satomi said, gesture toward the seat next to her.

Haruki gave a soft smile and nodded.

He walked to the table, pulled out the chair across from Kyouko, and sat down.

And for a moment... the house looked normal.

A family having breakfast together.

Kyouko sat quietly across from them, sipping her tea.

Far away from this table.

Haruki behind her, strong hands on her hips, moving deep and hard, his breath hot against her ear.

The creak of the stairs.

The sharp gasp from above.

Satoshi and Satomi... standing there.

She didn’t cover herself.

She turned her head back, lips parted in a smile—half challenge, half ecstasy.

See your wife, Satoshi?

The one you’ve ignored for over twenty years?

This is what you lost.

This is what I look like when someone actually wants me.

Her voice, in that wild, imaginary moment, rang in her mind:

"See this handsome young man, Satoshi?

See how hard he’s fucking your wife?"

"Mm... Haruki~ don’t stop..."

She imagined her eyes turning toward Satomi next.

Look closely, Satomi.

Your husband—yes, the one you accuse, ignore, doubt—

You threw away a rare man. Not just handsome, not just kind—

And now he’s inside me.

Now... he belongs to me.

Kyouko blinked slowly, returning to the present moment.

She reached for her cup of tea, lifted it to her lips, and took a quiet sip—unbothered, composed.

Kyouko didn’t know why...

But part of her wanted them to see.

What would they do, if one day they turned the corner—

And saw her body arching beneath Haruki’s?

Her voice trembling as he filled her again and again?

Saw her wrapped around him, bare, taken, loved?

Would they finally see what they threw away?

How two people—ignored, neglected, forgotten—found something real in each other?

She didn’t want it to stay a secret forever.

If they saw it—if they walked in and saw her riding him in the kitchen, or moaning under him in the guest room...

She wouldn’t feel shame.

She wouldn’t feel fear.

Her patience had long withered.

Her obedience, drained.

And what was left now?

Who no longer cared if she was caught.

She was finally living.