Don’t. Say. My. Name

Janevera's Pov

“Stop here,” I told the cabman as we pulled up in front of my boyfriend Neven’s building. The car eased to a stop, and I stepped out, a smile tugging at my lips. The cabman helped retrieve my rolling luggage from the trunk, dragged it toward me, and handed it over with a polite, “Here you go, ma’am.”

I paid him, thanked him, and watched as he drove away.

I couldn’t explain the rush of excitement flooding through me. After an entire year apart, I was finally going to see Neven again. I’d been forced to leave Las Vegas for twelve long months to complete my studies, and now, at last, I was finally back.

Sighing happily, I rolled my luggage toward the building and when I reached the door, I knocked, only to notice it was already unlocked.

Strange. Neven always locked his door, whether he was home or not. He had even told me he wouldn’t be in today. Could it be… He was actually home, waiting to surprise me? Excited rushed through me as I thought of that.

Pushing the thought aside, I slowly opened the door, and that’s when I heard it. A sound drifting from the bedroom, muffled by the thin apartment walls. He wasn’t home alone.

I stepped into the living room, my gaze catching on the trail of clothes scattered across the floor, Neven’s shirt, and beside it, a silky blouse that could only belong to a woman. My heart lurched painfully when I spotted a pair of red lace panties that definitely weren’t mine.

My chest tightened, knowing fully well without a doubt now that Neven was with another woman and the knowledge made my heart ache.

I followed the trail, my heart sinking with every step. The closer I got to the bedroom, the sharper the sounds became, low and breathless moans that confirmed my worst fear that Neven was in bed with another woman.

“Oh yes, Neven… Give it to me. Oh, fuckk, yes! Please don’t stop, please,” came a familiar woman’s voice, breathless and needy.

The rhythmic clap of skin against skin followed, each muffled moan cutting deeper into my chest, twisting like a knife inside me.

My heart begged me to turn back, to run, but my feet refused, urging me to move forward instead. The pains in my chest sharpened with every step, each sound from the bedroom tearing me apart. I didn’t want to believe what my mind already knew, but the truth was undeniable, those shameless, raw noises. They sounded more like something from a cheap motel and not from this bedroom as I do not want to believe.

When I reached his door, I froze as my luggage slipped from my hand, landing with a muted thud on the carpet. The door was slightly ajar, a thin strip of warm light spilling into the dark hallway. I could hear his voice now, low and intimate, the tone he once reserved only for me, and then came hers, and I knew that voice, it belonged to Olivia.

The name made my breath hitch. My best friend since freshman year. The girl who knew every detail of my relationship with Neven, every fight, every reconciliation, every dream for our future. The same girl who had promised to “keep an eye” on him while I was gone. I just never knew this was what she meant until now.

My hands trembled as I pushed the door open just enough to see Neven, naked, moving against her as if I never existed. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

I had imagined countless ways our reunion might go, sweet, tearful, maybe even passionate but never like this. Never him betraying me in his own bed we once shared together before I left for studies.

I held my breath until the air in my lungs felt like shards of glass. My heart ached, but I couldn’t exhale, not when my eyes were locked on the sight before me, refusing to believe.

Neven was driving into her from behind, his hips snapping forward in a rhythm that made my heart twist. His bare back flexed with each thrust, sweat glistening in the dim light. Her head was thrown back, mouth open in a moan that scraped my ears like broken glass. The sheets bunched beneath her fists, the same sheets that once smelled of us. Her knees were spread wide, her body arching toward him as if she couldn’t get enough.

And his hands… God, his hand clutched her hip with a possessive familiarity, while the other braced against the bed frame, steadying himself as he moved in and out of her, animalistic and relentless, while she gasped his name again and again.

My vision blurred. The walls felt like they were closing in, and I knew I couldn’t just stand there watching another second.

I shoved the door open with every ounce of strength I had left. It slammed against the wall with a crack, shattering the rhythm of their bodies. They froze, snapping their heads toward me. The shock on their faces was instant and raw, like children caught with stolen candy still in their mouths.

Olivia's gasp sliced through the room, high and sharp, but I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. My eyes locked on him, the man who once swore he’d wait for me, who swore he’d never let another woman touch him.

Our stares collided, the silence between us screaming louder than her moans had moments ago.

“Jane,” Neven started, his voice low and panicked, scrambling upright from the bed as if the sheets had suddenly caught on fire.

I raised a hand to silence him. “Don’t,” I cut in, my voice cold and dry, refusing to hear excuses. “Don’t. Say. My. Name.” My words were ice, but my chest burned like an open wound. “So this is why you left the door unlocked?” I asked, each word dripping with venom. “To make it easier for me to walk in and see what kind of man you really are?”