The Morning After

I woke up to an empty bed.

For one blissful second, I thought maybe I'd dreamed it. That Jamie was still tucked safely in the spare room, that last night existed only in my subconscious where it belonged.

Then I saw the indent in the pillow beside mine. Smelled his cologne on the sheets. Felt the ache between my thighs that had nothing to do with sleep.

Not a dream.

A disaster.

I grabbed my phone. Seven missed calls from Aiden. Twelve texts.

**Aiden:** *Good morning beautiful*

**Aiden:** *Dad finally made it to Chicago. He looks exhausted.*

**Aiden:** *Said the hotel thing was a nightmare but someone helped him out.*

**Aiden:** *You awake?*

**Aiden:** *Babe?*

**Aiden:** *Starting to worry. Call me when you get this.*

The timestamps ran from six in the morning until twenty minutes ago. While I was still asleep. While Jamie's scent was still on my skin.

I typed back with numb fingers.

**Me:** *Sorry. Overslept. Long night. I'm fine.*

The response came instantly.

**Aiden:** *Thank god. Thought something happened.*

Something did happen. Something unforgivable.

**Aiden:** *Dad wants to take us to the cabin next weekend. Said he needs a break from the city. You in?*

My stomach turned to ice.

The cabin. Miles from civilization. Three of us trapped together in close quarters. Jamie and I pretending last night never existed while Aiden smiled and planned our future.

**Me:** *I have a lot of work.*

**Aiden:** *Come on. You never take breaks. It'll be fun. Just three days. Please?*

I stared at the message. At the casual way he assumed I'd say yes. At how easy everything was for him because he didn't know his world had already ended.

**Me:** *Okay.*

**Aiden:** *YES! Love you so much. Dad's calling. Talk later?*

I didn't respond. Just set the phone face-down and stared at the ceiling.

Jamie wanted me at the cabin. Wanted me close. Which meant last night wasn't enough for him either.

I should have felt relieved.

Instead, I felt hunted.

---

The shower ran scalding hot, but it didn't help. I scrubbed my skin until it burned, washed my hair three times, stood under the spray until the water ran cold.

Nothing erased him.

Jamie was under my fingernails, in my lungs, carved into my bones. One night, and he'd rewritten my DNA.

I got dressed in yesterday's clothes because I couldn't stand to put on something clean. Didn't deserve it. Made coffee I couldn't drink. Sat at the kitchen counter where he'd first kissed me and tried to remember who I was before.

That girl felt like a stranger.

My apartment looked the same. Same secondhand furniture, same textbooks stacked on the coffee table, same photos of me and Aiden on the fridge.

But everything had shifted two inches to the left. Nothing fit right anymore.

The spare room door was open. I made myself walk past it. Made myself look inside.

The bed was made. Military-tight corners, pillow fluffed, no trace anyone had slept there. But of course he hadn't. He'd been in my bed. In me.

On the nightstand sat a folded piece of paper.

My hands shook as I picked it up.

*I'm sorry. —J*

Two words. Ten letters. Worthless.

Sorry didn't undo last night. Sorry didn't make Aiden less betrayed. Sorry didn't stop me from wanting to do it again.

I crumpled the note and threw it in the trash.

Then pulled it back out and smoothed it flat.

Tucked it into my pocket where it burned against my hip.

---

Work was a blur.

The kids at the center asked me questions I couldn't answer. Marcy asked if I was feeling okay. I said yes and spent my lunch break locked in the bathroom, staring at my reflection and trying to recognize the person looking back.

She had messy hair and hollow eyes and lips that were still swollen from someone else's mouth. She looked guilty. She looked wrecked.

She looked like she'd do it all over again given half a chance.

I splashed cold water on my face and went back to work.

---

That evening, Aiden video-called.

I almost didn't answer. But ignoring him would raise questions, and questions led to conversations I wasn't ready to have.

His face filled my screen—bright smile, easy charm, completely oblivious.

"There she is," he said. "I've been trying to reach you all day."

"Busy shift. Sorry."

"You look tired."

"Didn't sleep well."

His brow furrowed with concern. Real, genuine concern for my wellbeing. The kind of care that came from someone who actually loved you.

"You work too hard," he said. "That's why the cabin trip is perfect timing. We can hike, swim in the lake, just disconnect for a few days."

"Sounds nice."

"You don't sound excited."

"I am. Just distracted." I forced a smile. "How's the conference?"

"Boring as hell. But Dad's in a weird mood, so at least that's entertaining."

My pulse stuttered. "Weird how?"

"Just... off. Quiet. He barely said two words during dinner." Aiden shrugged. "Maybe he's tired. Or maybe he met someone."

The air left my lungs.

"Someone?" I repeated carefully.

"I don't know. He just seems different. Distracted." Aiden grinned. "Would be nice if he found someone. He's been alone too long."

I dug my nails into my palm until I felt skin break.

"Yeah," I managed. "That would be nice."

We talked for another ten minutes. He told me about presentations and networking events and some investor who'd cornered him about cryptocurrency. I nodded in the right places, made appropriate sounds, performed the role of supportive girlfriend.

When we hung up, I ran to the bathroom and threw up.

---

Three days crawled by.

Jamie didn't text. Didn't call. Didn't acknowledge my existence beyond that pathetic note he'd left behind.

I told myself that was good. That distance was exactly what we needed.

But every time my phone buzzed, my heart jumped into my throat. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face above mine, felt his hands mapping my body, heard my name in his voice like a prayer and a curse.

Aiden texted constantly. Sweet messages and photos and countdown reminders about the cabin trip.

**Aiden:** *Four days!*

**Aiden:** *Three days!*

**Aiden:** *Can't wait to have you all to myself.*

Except I wouldn't be his. Not really. Not anymore.

Friday arrived too fast.

Aiden picked me up at noon, trunk already packed with supplies. He was practically vibrating with excitement, talking a mile a minute about the hiking trails and the fishing spot and how his dad had already gotten there to open up the cabin.

"He's been weird all week," Aiden said as we drove. "Barely spoke on the flight back. I asked if something happened, and he just said he was tired."

"Maybe he is."

"Maybe." Aiden glanced over. "You've been quiet too. Everything okay?"

"Fine. Just tired."

"Well, this weekend will fix that. Nothing but fresh air and relaxation."

I looked out the window and watched the city disappear behind us, replaced by trees and mountains and the kind of isolation that made secrets impossible to keep.

My phone buzzed.

**Unknown:** *Looking forward to seeing you.*

I knew that number. Had memorized it despite deleting every message.

**Me:** *We need to talk.*

**Unknown:** *I know.*

**Unknown:** *That's why I invited you.*

So this wasn't Aiden's idea. This was Jamie's. He'd orchestrated this entire trip to get me alone. To finish what we'd started. Or maybe to destroy what little was left.

I deleted the messages and turned my phone face-down in my lap.

Aiden kept talking, oblivious and happy and doomed.

And I sat beside him, watching the road narrow and the trees close in, knowing I was driving toward my own execution.

---

The cabin appeared through the pines like something out of a postcard. All wood and glass and stone, perched on the edge of a lake that reflected the sky like a mirror.

Beautiful. Isolated. Perfect for secrets.

Jamie stood on the porch, arms crossed, watching our car approach.

Even from a distance, I could feel his eyes on me.

Aiden parked and jumped out, already yelling greetings. I stayed in the car for an extra beat, gathering courage I didn't have.

When I finally stepped out, Jamie's gaze locked onto mine.

His expression gave nothing away. No warmth. No recognition. Just cold assessment, like I was a problem he needed to solve.

"Lilith," he said. My name sounded like a weapon.

"Mr. Whitmore."

"Jamie," he corrected. "We're family now."

The word tasted like ashes.

Aiden threw an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. "Isn't this place amazing? Wait until you see the inside."

He dragged me toward the cabin, chattering about the fireplace and the view from the loft.

I glanced back once.

Jamie hadn't moved. Hadn't looked away.

And the expression on his face wasn't cold anymore.

It was starving.