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Billy’s POV
I heard her car before the knock. The engine cut off. Then footsteps. Slow. Like she was giving me time to change my mind. She knocked, softly.
I opened the door.
She looked wrecked. Hair in a messy bun, face scrubbed clean, eyes swollen. My old gray hoodie swallowing her frame. No makeup. Bare feet in slides. She was clutching her keys so hard her knuckles were white. We just stared at each other neither knowing what to say.
“Hi,” she whispered.
I stepped aside.
She walked in like she was entering a crime scene, eyes scanning the mess: empty beer bottles, pizza box, the couch looking like i hadn’t left it in days.
She stopped in the middle of the living room.
“I don’t know where to stand,” she said, voice cracking.
I shut the door. Leaned against it.
“Say it,” I said. My voice sounded like gravel.
She took a shaky breath.
“I fucked him. In that closet. I let him come inside me. I didn’t use a condom. I didn’t even ask. I wanted it. In the moment I wanted it so bad I couldn’t think.”
Her words hit like punches. I nodded once. “Keep going.”
“I keep replaying how hard you were,” she said, tears spilling now. “When I was on his lap. When I kissed him. When I walked in there. I told myself it was for you. That you wanted to see me like that. Desired. Slutty. Owned by someone else for five minutes. I told myself that was love.”
She laughed, a broken sound. “It wasn’t love. It was selfish. I wanted to feel reckless and powerful and I used you to feel it.”
I swallowed hard.
“Say the part you’re scared to say,” I told her.
She looked up, eyes red.
“I still get wet thinking about it,” she whispered. “About how big he felt. How wrong it was. How you were right outside. And I hate myself for it. I hate that I want to feel that again and I hate that I want you to be the one watching when I do.”
Silence rang in my ears.
I walked past her, into the kitchen. Grabbed two beers. Handed her one. She took it with trembling fingers.
I leaned against the counter. “I came three times this week thinking about it,” I said flatly. “Once to the memory of his dick swinging when he walked out. Once to the sounds you made. Once to the thong you wore that night. I hated myself every single time.”
She stared at me, tears rolling.
“I don’t know what this makes us,” I said. “But I know I still love you so much it feels like dying. And I know I’m terrified that if we do this again I’ll never come back from it. And I’m more terrified that if we don’t I’ll never feel you the way I did before that night.”
She set the beer down untouched. Took three steps toward me. Stopped just short of touching.
“I don’t want to lose you,” she said. “But I don’t know how to be the girl you fell in love with anymore. That girl feels… small now.”
I looked at her for a long time. Then I asked the question that had been eating me alive.
“Do you want him again?”
She didn’t lie.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I want the feeling again. The one where I’m so desired I stop thinking. I don’t know if it has to be him. I just know I’m scared it will be.”
I exhaled like I’d been holding my breath for ten days.
“I don’t want to share you,” I said. “But I don’t know if I can fuck you again without picturing him doing it better.”
Her face crumpled.
I stepped forward. Closed the distance. Took her face in my hands.
“I’m not leaving,” I said. “Not tonight. But we’re broken, Sara. And I don’t know if we fix this by pretending that night never happened… or by burning the whole thing down and building something new on the ashes.”
She leaned her forehead against mine.
“I’ll do whatever you need,” she whispered.
“Therapy. Rules. No contact with them. All of it. Just don’t make me live without you.”
I kissed her then. Hard. Messy. Angry. Desperate. She kissed back like she was drowning. We didn’t make it to the bedroom. I pushed her hoodie up, mouth on her neck, her tits, biting harder than I ever had. She moaned my name loud. When I slid her leggings down she was soaked. When I finally pushed inside her she was tighter than I remembered, or maybe I was just more aware of every inch because I knew someone else had been here. She wrapped her legs around me and cried into my shoulder.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Please don’t stop.”
I didn’t.
I fucked her against the kitchen counter like I was trying to erase him. Like I was trying to punish her. Like I was trying to prove something. She came first, clenching around me, sobbing my name. I followed seconds later, coming so hard my vision went white.
After, we slid to the floor. Still connected. Still shaking. She buried her face in my neck. “I love you,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
I held her tighter than I ever had. “I love you too,” I said. “And I’m fucking terrified of what that means now.” We stayed there until the beers went warm. Neither of us knew what came next. But for the first time in ten days, we were breathing the same air.
More to come……
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