The silence after Elias left was suffocating.
I stood frozen in the kitchen for what felt like hours, staring at the spot on the island where he had bent me over just the night before, his thick c**k buried deep inside me while he whispered filthy promises and filled me with his c*m. Now that same surface felt cold and accusatory. The house, which had once felt like a safe haven of stolen moments and tender nights, now echoed with betrayal.
My phone buzzed again in my hand. Another message from Elias:
She won’t get in the car. She’s sitting on the bench at the old pier, crying. I’m staying with her. She keeps asking how long it’s been going on. I told her the truth — that it started during festival prep and became real. She’s devastated, Zara. She feels like we both chose each other ove
