MasukBailey POVThe weekend passed in a blur of anxiety.I checked my phone every hour. Refreshing the post. Reading the comments. Watching the number of shares climb higher and higher like a countdown to something I couldn't stop.Mark called twice on Saturday. Once on Sunday. Both times he told me his father's team was working on it. Getting the post taken down. Contacting the account. Threatening legal action.By Monday morning, the original post was gone.But the damage was already done.Screenshots lived forever. Group chats didn't have delete buttons. And the people who saw it before it disappeared had already made up their minds.I walked into the academy that Monday with my stomach in knots. Kept my head down. Coached my groups. Avoided eye contact with anyone who wasn't an athlete.For most of the day, nothing happened.No stares. No whispers. No sideways glances.Maybe it hadn't reached here yet.Maybe I was safe.Then, at 4:15, my phone buzzed with a message from the front desk:
Bailey POVThat very night after Mark's race, we celebrated.Nothing fancy. A small restaurant near the hotel with dim lights and loud music. He ordered steak and I ordered pasta and we split a bottle of wine that we probably didn't need but definitely deserved.He kept looking at the qualifier results on his phone, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. Every few minutes he'd tilt the screen toward me and say "20.98" like I hadn't been the one holding the stopwatch."I know the time, Mark. I was there.""Just making sure you saw it.""I saw it.""Did you see me point at you?""The whole stadium saw you point at me."He grinned wider."Good."I kicked him under the table, but I was smiling too. The kind of smile that hurt my cheeks because I hadn't used those muscles in so long.That night, we fell asleep in my hotel room again. No sex. Just his arm around my waist, his chest against my back, and the sound of his breathing pulling me under like a lullaby.The flight home the next m
Bailey POVI woke up before the sun.Mark was still asleep beside me, his arm draped across my waist, his breathing slow and even. The hotel sheets were tangled around us, and the faint glow of early morning crept through the window.For a moment, I just lay there.Looking at him.His face was relaxed. Peaceful. The hard edges that usually sat in his jaw were gone. He looked younger like this. Softer.Then my brain kicked in.Today was the race.I slid out from under his arm carefully, grabbed my phone from the nightstand, and checked the time.5:47 AM.The men's two hundred meter heats started at 10:30. That gave us just under five hours to eat, warm up, and get his mind right.I showered quickly in my bathroom, changed into my coaching gear, and tied my hair back. By the time I came out, Mark was sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes."Morning," he said, his voice rough with sleep."Morning. How do you feel?"He stretched his arms overhead, rolling his shoulders."Good. R
Bailey POV"Your mother," I said. "I haven't heard anything about her."His grip on my hand tightened slightly, and I knew that whatever he was about to say wasn't going to be pleasant."She was a model from Europe. Deutch. Beautiful. The kind of woman who turned heads everywhere she went.""How did she meet your father?""At some athletic gala in New York. My dad was at the peak of his career at the time. Big name. Big money. Big everything. She saw an opportunity and took it."His voice was even, but there was something underneath it. Something old and bruised."They got married fast. Had me a year later. But my dad is... you've met him. He's controlling. Everything has to be his way. His schedule, his rules, his plan. She lasted four years before she couldn't take it anymore.""She left?""She took a fat cheque and went back to the Netherlands. Picked up her modeling career like nothing happened.""How old were you?""Three."The word landed like a stone dropping into water."I did
Bailey POVHe sat on the edge of my bed. I sat on the chair by the window, legs pulled up, arms wrapped around my knees.The city lights painted soft patterns across the room. Neither of us reached for the lamp."Nervous?" I asked."A little," he admitted. "Not about the race. About everything else.""What do you mean?"He was quiet for a moment, rubbing his thumb slowly across his knuckles."After tomorrow, things change," he said. "If I run well, doors open. Scouts notice. My dad gets involved in a whole new way. Everything gets bigger.""That's a good thing.""Maybe. But bigger also means more eyes. More pressure. More people watching every move I make."He looked at me."Every move we make."My chest tightened."Mark.""I'm not bringing it up to start something," he said. "I just needed to say it out loud. To someone I trust."The word sat between us like a heartbeat.Trust.Silence settled over the room. Comfortable. Heavy with things unsaid.Then he spoke again."Can you tell me
Bailey POV3 weeks later.The flight to Atlanta was two hours and fourteen minutes.I know because I counted every one of them.Mark sat beside me in business class, a seat his father had insisted on paying for. His legs stretched out in front of him, earbuds in, head tilted back against the headrest. He was wearing gray sweats and a black hoodie, and he fell asleep twenty minutes after takeoff like he didn't have a care in the world.I didn't sleep.I sat there with my clipboard on my lap, reviewing his race plan for the hundredth time, pretending the warmth of his arm resting an inch from mine wasn't making my skin tingle.This was a work trip.A competition.Nothing more.We landed in Atlanta just after noon. The air hit different the second we stepped outside the terminal. That thick, warm southern heat that wrapped around you like a blanket.Mark grabbed both our bags from the carousel before I could reach for mine."I can carry my own bag," I said."I know you can."He didn't gi
Monalisa POV.As I stared wide-eyed at the credit alert on my phone, mixed feelings swirled through my mind.A lot was going through my head and I tried to process how I felt.I was touched that he'd taken the initiative to send me money without my asking. It was such a thoughtful gesture and it wa
Monalisa POV. One minute, we were having a serious discussion, and the next minute, he was asking for sex. But as I knelt here before him, totally naked... I knew one of the reasons he'd tried to recover quickly was so he could make love to me. And to be totally honest, I wanted him too. All th
Monalisa POV. I held my breath, my body going rigid. My fingers grabbed the sheets and squeezed as I waited for him to say what was on his mind. He was quiet for long seconds, looking at me, his gorgeous grey eyes staring hard as though he was conflicted about what he was about to say next. I wa
Monalisa POV.I had no idea what I was smoking, but all I knew was that it felt good.With every drag I take, I feel my chest lighten up, and the sorrow I felt melt away."What's in this shisha?" I ask Lil Cash as I blow out a thick cloud of smoke.A smile tugged at the corner of his lips at my obv







