This was the man I was supposed to marry in four days. The man I had given five years of my life to shared an apartment, planned a future, saved every penny for our honeymoon in Bali. And here he was, buried deep inside Mia, my maid of honor, the girl who had helped me pick my wedding dress last weekend.
I couldn't breathe. The whole room spun like I'd been slammed into a wall. Skin slapped against skin, wet and rhythmic, the bed creaking under them. Mia's moans were loud, filthy, desperate. "Harder, Ethan fuck, yes, just like that! Don't stop!"
He growled low in his throat, the sound primal, hungry. "You're so fucking tight, baby. So much tighter than her." Than her. Than me.
My stomach lurched. I pressed a hand to my mouth to keep from vomiting right there on the hardwood floor. Five years and he had never once sounded like that with me. Our sex had always been quick, mechanical, two minutes of awkward thrusting before he rolled off and checked his phone. I'd asked for more begged, even and he'd just sigh and say, "I'm tired, Lila. Stop being dramatic."
Now I knew why.
Tears burned hot behind my eyes, but I couldn't look away. Mia's back arched off the mattress, breasts bouncing with every brutal thrust. Ethan's hand was in her hair, yanking her head back as he pounded into her like he was trying to break her in half. She screamed his name again, legs shaking, and I watched her come actually come shuddering and soaking the sheets while he kept going, relentless.
I had never come like that with him. Not once.
My knees buckled. I grabbed the doorframe, nails biting into the wood. Humiliation flooded me so thick I could taste it. How many times had they done this? In our bed? While I was at work? While I was planning our wedding cake tasting?
The sound of their bodies colliding filled the room, obscene and endless.
Ethan's grunts mixed with her whimpers, and every single one of them carved another slice out of my heart.
"You're really fucking shameless, Ethan," I whispered, voice cracking like glass.
They both froze.
Mia's eyes flew open first. Panic exploded across her face. She shoved at Ethan's chest, trying to scramble away, but he was still inside her, still hard. "Lila-oh my God, Lila, it's not-"
Ethan's head snapped toward me. His eyes widened, but not with guilt. With irritation. Like I was the one interrupting something important. He pulled out of her slowly, deliberately, not even bothering to cover himself as he sat up on the edge of the bed.
"Lila," he said, voice flat. "What the hell are you doing home early?"
That was his first question. Not "I'm sorry." Not "This is a mistake." Just annoyance that I'd ruined his afternoon fuck.
I laughed. It came out broken and bitter. "What am I doing here? In my own apartment? Four days before our wedding?" My hands shook so hard I could barely keep them at my sides. "You're inside my best friend, Ethan. You're fucking Mia in the bed we picked out together. And you have the nerve to ask what I'm doing here?"
Mia was crying now, pulling the sheet up to her chest like that could erase everything. "Lila, please... we didn't mean for it to happen. It just.."
"Shut up," I spat. The words flew out before I could stop them. "Don't you dare speak to me. You stood beside me while I tried on wedding dresses.
You helped me choose flowers. You hugged me when I said I was nervous about the honeymoon because Ethan never makes me feel... wanted."
Ethan rolled his eyes. Actually rolled his eyes. He reached for his boxers, slipping them on like this was just another Tuesday. "Jesus, Lila.
Always so dramatic. You act like the world ends because I needed something real for once."
Something real.
The words hit harder than any slap. "Real?" I repeated, voice rising. "Five years of me loving you, supporting you, ignoring every red flag that wasn't real? Me staying even when you made me feel like I was broken because I couldn't come from two minutes of lazy sex that wasn't real?"
He stood up, towering over me, still flushed from Mia. "You want the truth? I never loved you the way you wanted. Your family's money was convenient. The wedding was convenient. But this " he gestured back at Mia, who was now sobbing into the pillow " this is what I actually want. Someone who doesn't cry every time I don't go down on her for an hour."
My cheek burned like he'd already slapped me. Tears spilled over now, hot and fast. "You bastard."
I lunged forward, hand raised, ready to smack that smug look off his face. But Ethan caught my wrist, fingers bruising. "Don't," he warned, voice low and cold. "You're embarrassing yourself."
Mia whimpered from the bed, "Ethan, let her go..."
He didn't. Instead he leaned in close, breath still smelling like her. "Go cry somewhere else, Lila. Pack your shit if you want. But don't ruin the wedding deposits. My parents already paid for half."
That was it. The last thread snapped.
I ripped my arm free, chest heaving. "We're done. The wedding is off. You can explain to everyone why the bride walked in on you balls-deep in her best friend."
I turned and ran.
Down the hallway, down the stairs, out the front door into the pouring rain. My phone buzzed in my pocket probably Mia or my mother but I didn't answer. I just kept running until my lungs burned and my heels snapped off.
I needed to forget.
I needed to disappear.
I needed someone anyone to make me feel wanted for once in my goddamn life.
The hotel district was only two blocks away. The same five-star place we'd booked for our wedding night. I laughed through the tears as I stumbled toward it, soaked and shaking.
Tonight I wasn't Lila Harper, the good girl who played by every rule.
Tonight I was going to get drunk. Blackout drunk. And if the universe was kind, I'd wake up tomorrow in the arms of a stranger who actually knew how to ruin a woman the right way.
Because Ethan never could.
And right now, all I wanted was to be ruined.