Two Seats, One Sin

My wife got obsessed with cycling after we got married. She came home one night with shaky legs and flushed cheeks. Baby, you are too tired. Rest for a while before riding again. No way! This is my hobby; you can't interfere with my freedom. She snapped at me instantly. I never understood the appeal until I stepped into her cycling circle myself. Look, this is what they call double sink. That was when I learned how filthy it truly was after joining the cycling group, Lila came home later every single night. Tonight was the worst, the front door creaked open near midnight, she stumbled inside, leaning fully against the wall to hold herself up, a heavy red flush spread across her face, the obvious mark of intense physical exertion. My brows tightened into a sharp frown I had heard rumors about the toxic cycling community long before group dinners. Paired riding trips and overnight stays were standard activities, members drew random lots to share hotel rooms, always one man and one woman per room. I brought it up to Lila once. Leila, I've heard those cycling groups, they say the people there aren't always clean. Oh please. that's just internet nonsense. She never stayed out overnight, at least not that I knew of, but I had seen the paired riding videos At a company dinner last week, a drunk coworker named Ethan showed me private clips from the cycling group Men and women shared one single seat bicycle. I bet that seat is soaked through with her juices by now. Ethan smirked at me with a dirty glance. "We all know what really happens on those rides, they bike to isolated trails and the bicycle is never just a bicycle. " I used to treat it as a vulgar joke, now my chest ached with suffocating dread. I stared at her thighs, a clear, ragged hole ripped through the middle of her leggings.

A sharp buzzing ringing in my ears. I pulled her into a tight hug, my hands shaking visibly. This is amazing; I need to tell everyone. My voice was artificially loud, cold and hollow inside. Lila blushed and subconsciously covered her flat stomach with both hands. That small movement stabbed straight into my heart. I'll make a call. I spun around and walked to the balcony, hiding my fake smile instantly. I did not dial my parents; I called hers instead. My eyes burned bloodshot, hidden in the balcony shadows. We only slept together once on our wedding night. I wore protection without fail; the chance of pregnancy was nearly impossible. Ten years of chasing her, ten years of patience. She kept me at arm's length for every single year. I thought I finally got my happy ending, but reality slapped me brutally in the face. She showed me the pregnancy test without a single trace of guilt. She knew I was the desperate fool who would never doubt her. I gripped my phone hard, staring at her with icy, detached eyes.

Lila froze for a second. She followed my gaze and finally noticed the hole in her leggings. Panic flashed across her eyes for a split second. She tugged her skirt down nervously, trying to cover the damaged fabric. I was still on the phone, cheerfully inviting her parents over to celebrate the pregnancy. She exhaled in relief, convinced I had seen nothing. She left her small shoulder bag on the sofa in her frantic rush to the bedroom. I unzipped the bag slowly, my heartbeat thundering in my chest. A glaring square packaging bag sat on top of her messy belongings. It was a brand I had never used, a cold, bitter laugh escaped my throat, I held the packet and walked toward the bedroom with a dead expression.

A clear, ragged hole ripped through the middle of her. leggings. I'm exhausted. I flipped on the hallway light. A strange, faint odor lingered on her clothes, she collapsed onto the sofa. I kept my tone calm. why are you coming home so late again, we took the long trail tonight, the Lakeside outer route. I felt incredible. My knuckles whitened as I clenched my fists, incredible from cycling or something else I dared not think further Her skirt slid up slightly as she lay limp on the couch, exposing the torn leggings even more clearly Normal cycling could never tear fabric like that. And the bicycle is never just a bicycle. The words from Ethan echoed sharply in my mindI had chased Lila for 10 years; she was shy, reserved, and never even let me kiss her before our wedding one week ago. How could she betray me? Honey, I'm going to shower. She stood up unsteadily and walked toward the bathroom. Seconds later, I heard her retching. I rushed over and found her leaning over the sink. A pregnancy test stick was clutched tightly in her hand. She turned to me, eyes glinting with a strange light. The air froze completely, I stared at the two red lines, a sharp buzzing ringing in my ears.