CHAPTER ONE

Rhaena’s POV

 “You’re too boring in bed.”

That was the excuse the man I loved for two years gave me when I caught him cheating.

I had come home early that day, heart full, smiling like an idiot. I wanted to surprise him. It was our anniversary. I even imagined his face lighting up when he saw me. I thought we would laugh, maybe open a bottle of wine, maybe finally feel close again.

Instead, I walked into a nightmare.

There he was.

Jake.

My boyfriend.

In our bed.

And he wasn’t alone.

There were girls with him. Two of them. Bare skin everywhere. Clothes thrown across the floor like none of it mattered. The room smelled wrong, heavy and intimate, like I had stepped into something I was never meant to see.

His hand was still on one of them when I walked in. Like he didn’t even care.

It took me a moment to breathe. To speak. My throat felt tight, like the words were stuck.

“Boring?” I finally said, my voice shaking. “You’re calling me boring?”

“Yes,” he replied, shrugging like this was no big deal. “I mean, look at them.” He pointed at the girls like they were proof. Like they were objects.

Something inside me broke.

“You couldn’t even make me come once,” I shot back. “Not once, Jake. In two whole years.”

His face turned red right away. “That’s not—”

“No,” I snapped. “Don’t interrupt me. You blamed stress. You blamed timing. You blamed me. And now you’re standing here calling me boring?”

I laughed, but it sounded ugly and sharp. “With that pencil dick?”

The room went silent.

Jake clenched his jaw. “That’s real mature.”

I stared at him. “You want to talk about maturity?” I said. “You’re naked in front of your girlfriend and two random girls, and I’m the immature one?”

I turned to the girls then. They looked awkward, uncomfortable, not nearly as confident as before.

“He’s paying you, right?” I asked.

One of them frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Because there’s no way,” I continued, my voice shaking with anger, “there’s no way he’s actually satisfying anyone. If you’re moaning, you’re faking it. Trust me. I did it for years.”

“Rhaena, that’s enough,” Jake snapped.

“No,” I said, glaring at him. “What’s enough is you humiliating me, lying to me, and then acting like I’m the problem.”

My eyes burned, but I refused to cry. Not here. Not in front of him.

“You’re not exciting,” I said quietly. “You’re selfish. And this?” I waved at the room. “This is the most honest thing you’ve ever done.”

I stepped back toward the door, my whole body shaking.

“We’re done, Jake. Don’t call me. Don’t text me.”

He scoffed. “You’ll regret this.”

I paused, my hand on the door handle, and looked back at him one last time.

“No,” I said. “The only thing I regret is wasting two years on someone who never deserved me.”

Then I walked out.

With a broken heart.

And trust I knew would take a long time to fix.

The days that followed were slow and heavy. I barely left my room. I cried until my eyes hurt and my chest felt tight, like it was hard to breathe. I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling, replaying everything over and over, trying to find where I went wrong.

I asked myself the same questions again and again.

What did I do wrong?

Why wasn’t I enough?

I had been a good girlfriend. I knew I had. I was loyal. I listened. I stayed when things got hard. I tried to be understanding even when I felt ignored. I had done everything right. Or at least, everything I thought I was supposed to do.

I had tried so hard not to end up like my mother.

She had been married four times already. Each marriage ended faster than the one before it. I remembered growing up watching her fall in love, then fall apart. I promised myself I would be different. Careful. Smarter. I told myself that if I did everything right, love would stay.

I really thought Jake was the one.

But I was wrong.

He had shown me who he really was, and it hurt more than I wanted to admit. Maybe Mum was right after all. Maybe love wasn’t real. Maybe it was just a fairytale people told themselves so they wouldn’t feel so alone.

After days of crying and feeling sorry for myself, something inside me snapped. I couldn’t stay like this forever. I was tired of feeling weak. Tired of hurting.

I grabbed my phone and opened G****e. My fingers hesitated for a second before I typed, ways to get over a heartbreak.

So many results popped up. Articles. Advice. Quotes that all sounded the same.

Then one link caught my eye.

Are you tired of hiding your desires?

I swallowed hard. My throat felt dry all of a sudden. The answer was yes. It came too fast, before I could stop it or talk myself out of it. I didn’t even have to think.

Before I could change my mind, I clicked the link.

The page loaded slowly, and then I saw it for what it was. An escort website.

Heat rushed to my face and I felt myself blush, even though I was alone in my room. My eyes skimmed the screen, taking in the pictures, the words, the promises. My heart started beating faster, and panic mixed with curiosity in my chest.

“No,” I whispered to myself. “I’m not doing this.”

I exited the site quickly and dropped my phone onto the bed like it had burned me. I stared at the ceiling, trying to calm down, telling myself that was ridiculous. That this wasn’t me. That I would never do something like that.

But the thought wouldn’t leave.

The website sat in my mind like a siren’s call, quiet but persistent. The words echoed again. Hiding your desires.

My fingers twitched. My chest felt tight. Before I could stop myself, I picked up my phone again.

And I opened the site once more.