MasukSageI stay on the floor long after the worst of the nausea passes.The cold tile seeps through the thin fabric of my dress, grounding me in a way nothing else can. My knees are pulled to my chest, arms wrapped around them like a shield I don’t fully believe in. My reflection stares back at me from the lower cabinet mirror eyes too wide, skin too pale, lips slightly swollen from vomiting. I look like someone who’s been caught in a storm without shelter.The sink turns on.The sound startles me enough that my shoulders jerk.Ella stands at the counter, her back to me, calmly washing her hands as if this is the most ordinary moment in the world. As if she didn’t just walk into the aftermath of something raw and humiliating. The water runs steadily, warm steam fogging the mirror above the sink.She doesn’t look at me, I watch her instead.Her movements are unhurried, precise. She dries her hands carefully, sets the towel back where it belongs, then reaches into her small clutch and pull
SageThe house smells like champagne and roses.It’s the kind of smell that should feel celebratory, warm, joyful but instead it sits heavy in my chest, cloying, almost suffocating. Every breath feels like I’m swallowing something sharp.An engagement party for Andre and Ella.Thrown by my mother. Of course she would throw them a party, lately it seemed like she used every little chance she got to throw parties. I stand at the top of the staircase for a moment longer than necessary, fingers curled around the banister, trying to steady myself before I step into the living room. Soft laughter drifts upward, familiar voices layered with gentle music. It’s small, intimate, exactly the kind of gathering my mom loves close friends, a few relatives, people who feel like family even if they aren’t by blood.I should be able to handle this.That’s what I tell myself.You can handle this. You have handled worse.I smooth my dress down over my hips, the fabric clinging a little tighter than it
SageI thought I had started to find a fragile balance in my life. Three weeks had passed since that night at the hotel, since discovering that my body had been forever changed, and I was slowly, painfully, coming to terms with it. Each day was a new battle, holding my stomach steady against nausea, keeping my mind from spiraling into panic, trying not to imagine Andre with Ella, trying not to cry in the middle of the day for a life that wasn’t supposed to exist yet.Maya had been my anchor through it all. She didn’t just drag me to the hospital she stayed with me afterward, listening to me when I sobbed, helping me through grocery runs, making me laugh when laughter felt impossible. And she had been helping me plan what I would do when the time came to tell Andre.I hadn’t decided yet exactly how, or when. I needed the courage, the right moment, the right words. But I knew it had to happen eventually. It was my reality now, and Andre deserved to know.So when I heard the knock on my
SageIt’s been three weeks. Three endless, torturous weeks since that night with Andre. And for the past two of those weeks, I have been feeling off. Sick. Exhausted in a way I can’t explain. My body feels foreign to me, like it’s betraying me from the inside. Nausea that comes in waves, fatigue that weighs down every limb, and the occasional dizziness that makes me clutch the walls just to keep standing.I had hoped it was just stress, the emotional whirlwind of everything happening with Andre, Ella, and the parties, but deep down, a part of me had been afraid it was something more. Something I wasn’t ready to face.This morning, the nausea hit harder than ever. I barely managed to get dressed before I doubled over in the bathroom, retching until my throat burned and my chest ached. Maya had been here the whole time, her hand on my back, murmuring comfort I barely registered.“Sage, you really should see a doctor,” she said gently, brushing damp strands of hair from my face. “You ha
SageI wake up slowly the next morning. This is the best I have slept for ages nows, the sunlight streaming through the hotel curtains harsh against my skin. My eyes flutter open, and for a moment, I let myself savor the warmth, the remnants of last night’s closeness, the memory of Andre curled against me. But the warmth isn’t enough to fill the sudden emptiness. I sit up, my heart thudding against my ribs, only to realize he is not here.Not a trace. The bed is cold where his body pressed against mine, the sheets tangled and empty. My chest tightens instantly, and I blink rapidly, trying to convince myself this isn’t happening, that he isn’t gone. But he is. He left.My mind races, replaying last night in painful, vivid detail. The way he had looked at me, the way he had held me, the way everything between us had shifted in the span of a few hours. It had been the best night of my life. The best night. And now it feels like a cruel trick.I bury my face in the pillow for a moment, t
Sage. “Open your legs,” he commanded and I blindly obeyed.One of his hard hands slipped around my hips to stroke the taut flesh of my butt, while the other boldly grabbed my sexin an imitation of what I had done to myself last night.The stimulating surge was too much and I visibly jerked at the direct assault. I was already soaked and ready, so his longfingers were immediately able to push away the lacy thong and slide between the wet folds into me. Then he began tothrust them in and out of me at a leisurely pace, and I began to squirm like a worm.At the same time that he angled his body to band an arm around my waist, he leaned forward, and whispered something into my ear. However, all of that was lost when suddenly, and unexpectedly, he increased his thrusts to such a brutal pace I actually felt dizzy.My upper body struggled away from him while my lower body pushed into him as he finger fucked me to within an inch of my life. I had never been used in this way before. It was







