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Changed it back to the original title so it’s not so confusing for people. Catch up on the previous chapters in my profile.
Billy’s POV
Day 1 – I woke up on the couch still in last night’s clothes. I smelled like stale beer and desperately needed a shower. My phone was dead. When I finally plugged it in, 47 missed texts. 34 from Sara. The rest from Luke, Amanda, even one from Kevin that I deleted without reading. I turned the phone face-down and went for a run until my lungs burned.
Day 2- Work was a blur. I sat in meetings nodding at the right times while replaying the closet sounds on loop. At lunch I opened my phone for the first time.
Sara – I’m not asking you to forgive me yet. I just need to know you’re okay.
I typed: I’m alive. Then deleted it. Typed again: I don’t know what okay looks like right now. Sent it before I could overthink.
She replied instantly: Thank you for answering. I’ll wait as long as you need.
I hated how much that hurt.
Day 3 – I jerked off twice. Once to regular porn. Once to the memory of Sara on Kevin’s lap, the way her back arched when he whispered something. I came so hard I saw stars and then sat on the shower floor crying until the water went cold. I hated my body for wanting that image. I hated my mind for supplying it in 4K.
Day 4 – Luke showed up unannounced with a six-pack. We drank on the balcony without talking about it for an hour. Finally he said, “Kevin’s an asshole for the way he played it. But Sara’s wrecked, man. She hasn’t left her apartment since.” I nodded. Took a long pull of beer. “You gonna talk to her?” he asked. “I talk to her every time I close my eyes,” I said. Luke didn’t push but it was very comforting to have him there.
Day 5 – I found the black lace thong she’d worn that night stuffed in my jacket pocket. I sat on the bed holding it like evidence. Smelled it (pathetic, I know). It still smelled faintly like her and something muskier. It made me sick and very aroused. Then I wrapped it around my cock and came in under thirty seconds, hating myself the entire time. After, I put it in a Ziploc bag and hid it in a drawer like a serial killer.
Day 6 – I made a list on my phone notes: Reasons to leave • She fucked him raw while I stood outside like a cuck • She came out glowing • She didn’t even look sorry until she saw my face • I’ll never un-hear those sounds • Kevin’s smug smile is burned into my brain
Reasons to stay • I was hard the whole night • I never once said stop • Part of me wanted to watch • I still love her so much it feels like dying • When she said “I thought you were into it” I couldn’t honestly say she was wrong
I stared at the second list longer than the first.
Day 7 – Exactly one week since the party. I hadn’t answered a single call or text since Day 2. I opened our chat. The last thing she’d sent, four hours ago:
Sara – I keep replaying the moment I walked into that closet. I keep wishing I’d turned around. I keep wishing you’d grabbed my hand and dragged me out. I keep wishing I deserved you. I’m so sorry, Billy.
My thumbs hovered.
I typed the only thing that felt true. “I don’t know if I can get past it. But I miss you so much it’s hard to breathe. Three dots appeared. Vanished. Appeared again.
Sara – Can I come over? Just to talk. Nothing else. I’ll sleep on the couch if you want. I just need to see you. I stared at the screen until my eyes burned. Then I left her on read. But I didn’t block her. And I didn’t fall back asleep. I just laid there in the dark, waiting for morning, waiting for the next message, waiting to figure out which version of me was going to win: the one who walks away forever, or the one who’s already halfway to forgiving her because he’s terrified of a world where she isn’t in it.
More to come…..
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