LOGINThen, through the warped blur of water, a strong arms wrapped around my middle, and dragged me upward. My head broke the surface with a violent gasp that tore through my chest.
I coughed, choking up water as he hauled me toward the edge. “Whoa! Damn… she really went under!” “I didn’t think she’d panic that hard—” “Is she okay?” Their voices came in fragments, floating above me as he propped me up on the pool ledge. My throat burned and my hands were shaking so hard I couldn’t even grip the tile at first. And then… Laughter. Actual fucking laughter. I turned, water streaming down my face, vision blurring with tears and chlorine. He was laughing. They all were. “Oh my God,” one of the girls giggled, covering her mouth like she was trying to hide it but failing miserably. “You really freaked out.” “She looked like someone threw a cat in the pool,” one of his guy friends added, sending another wave of laughter through the group. Ha. What a bunch of lunatic’s. They were insane. They had to be. I stared at him—my boyfriend—waiting for him to look horrified, apologetic, SOMETHING. But he was still grinning with them like a fool, like the whole thing was nothing more than a hilarious accident. “Are you fucking crazy?” I yelled, my voice breaking from inhaling water. “What is wrong with you?! I told you—I told you not to do that!” The smile slid off his face, replaced by surprise… then irritation. “Oh, come on,” he said, water dripping off his chin. “It was supposed to be fun. You’re overreacting.” “Overreacting?” I choked out, clutching my chest as another cough racked through me. “I almost drowned!” “You weren’t going to drown,” he scoffed. “I was right next to you. Calm down.” “Yeah, Thea,” one of the girls chimed in, flipping her wet hair over her shoulder. “It was just a joke.” “Take it easy,” another guy added, raising his drink. “He didn’t mean anything by it.” “Seriously,” the girl from earlier said, eyebrows raised in disbelief, “you’re ruining the mood.” Ruining the mood. Ruing the goddamn mood??! My mouth hung open as I stared at them. At him. At all the faces staring back at me like I was the problem. Like my fear was an inconvenience. Like my panic attack was bad fucking manners. “I told you I was scared,” I whispered, voice trembling from something that wasn’t the cold anymore. “I begged you to stop.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “You always make everything such a big deal.” Was he actually listening to himself right now? I shook my head and stood up. I won’t stand another second of their dismissive eyes, their judgment, and disgusting laughter. With shaky legs, soaked clothes clinging to my body, and hair dripping down my back, I started to walk away. “Thea… wait,” he called out behind me. But I didn’t. I didn’t look back and I sure as hell didn’t slow down. Someone else called after me too—maybe one of the girls, maybe one of the guys. “THEA!” But their voices only made my throat tighten even harder. I headed toward the house, my wet sandals slapping loudly against the pavement, water trailing behind me like a path of humiliation leading straight through the backyard doors. The coolness of the house hit my skin instantly, sending chills through me. I kept walking, past the kitchen, past the living room, heading straight for the hallway that led to the bedrooms. I just needed a moment to fucking breath. A place to drown quietly in my own embarrassment without an audience. But as soon as I stepped into the hallway, my soaked clothes dripped water on the tile… And my foot slid. It happened so fast I didn’t even have time to brace myself. My leg shot forward and the floor rushed up to meet me. The impact knocked the wind out of me, pain shooting through my elbow and hip as I smacked against the cold ceramic tile. I lay there. Stilled, as everything came rushing in. The first sob that came tore out of me so violently it surprised even me. Then another. And another. Soon I was shaking, curled on the cold tile floor with water pooling under me, mixing with tears as everything scattered inside me. I pressed my forehead against my arm and let myself cry because there was nothing left in me to hold it back. I cried for the fear I felt underwater. I cried for the way he laughed. I cried for how small I felt, how foolish, how invisible. I cried because the one person who was supposed to protect me had shoved me right into the thing I feared most. And I cried because, deep down, I knew something in our relationship had shifted today. Maybe forever. I didn’t know how long I lay there on the floor, trembling, my hair clinging to my cheeks, wondering how pathetic I must look—and how nothing could possibly make me feel any more pathetic than I already did. Until I heard the front door creak open. My head shot up instinctively. And I froze immediately. Standing in the entryway, framed by the afternoon sunlight spilling in behind him, was Mr. Gage… Noah’s father. Still in his suit from work. One hand holding a sleek leather suitcase while the other was tucked into his pocket. My heart dropped. “Oh my fucking God,” I whispered to myself before I could stop it.I should’ve known, honestly. The second the car slowed down in front of that familiar brick building with the little brass plaque and the fake “laundry service” sign, a cold knot twisted in my chest. A speakeasy bar??The tires crunched over gravel as he parked, and before I could even reach for the handle, he was already stepping out, walking around the front of the car and opened my door.The air hit me first when I stepped out—cool and faintly perfumed with that mix of smoke and citrus the place always had. Like the scent clinged to the walls and refused to leave, even when the staff scrubbed everything down at dawn.I leaned a bit closer to him before I lost the courage.“Hey, Noah…” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “You know your dad doesn’t like you coming here. You’ll get into trouble.”He stopped. Just for a second. It was a tiny pause—so small that anyone else would have missed it. But I didn’t. “That’s if he knows.” His voice sounded almost bored. He turned his head
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・By the time I finally dragged myself out of bed, washed my face, and forced something resembling an outfit on, my nerves were already on edge. The house felt unnervingly quiet as I headed downstairs, every step echoing a little too loudly. I kept expecting to run into Mr. Gage in one of the hallways, but each one was empty, as if the whole place were holding its breath.Halfway to the front door, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Noah: “Outside.”I swallowed and stepped outside, the sunlight pouring over me.Its brightness felt almost mocking while laughter floated from the car by the driveway, and my stomach sank at the sight of how many people were already crammed insideThe front passenger door sat open, and in the seat I’d always assumed was mine was a girl I didn’t recognize—pretty, with warm skin, glossy lips, and hair styled perfectly for a casual outing. For a heartbeat, I froze. A month ago, maybe even a week ago, I would’ve walked right up, forced a teasing
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ I didn’t remember falling asleep. The last thing I remembered was lying on my bed, replaying everything that happened. But at some point exhaustion must have drowned everything out, because the next sensation I recognized was the feeling of someone gently shaking my shoulder. “Thea, dear?” I groaned into my pillow before my brain even processed the voice. It wasn’t Noah. It wasn’t Mr. Gage. It was softer, older, warm in that maternal way only women who ran entire households seemed to have. When I finally blinked my eyes open, the blurred outline of the housekeeper came into focus. She stood beside my bed holding a small laundry basket, her expression apologetic as if she hated waking people even when it was her job. “Sorry to disturb you, dear,” she said with a kind smile. “I need to clean your room.” For a moment I just stared at her, confused. My brain felt thick, heavy, fogged by sleep in a way it never was. I rubbed my eyes and pushed myself up until I wa
I shut the door of the guest room so quietly it barely clicked, then leaned my back against it like the wood could hold me upright when my legs didn’t want to anymore. The hallway had been cold but my room felt colder. Or maybe that was just me, skin fever-hot and trembling, every nerve ending screaming for something I’d been denied twice within five hours. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes until I saw sparks. Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry again! But the tears were already there, burning behind my eyelids, because I was so turned on it actually hurt. My clit felt swollen, rubbing against the seam of my shorts with every tiny shift of my hips and sending jolts I had to bite down on a whimper. I was disgusting. I was pathetic. I was losing my fucking mind. I slid down the door until my ass hit the carpet, knees pulled up to my chest again, the same position I’d started the night in. Full circle. Only now I was worse off than before. Now I knew exactly what Gag
I expected him to question me. To demand why I was here, why I knocked at his door in the middle of the night with my pulse in my throat. But Mr. Gage didn’t ask a damn thing. He just looked at me with those dark eyes for a long, quiet moment, and then he stepped forward and kissed me. Just like that. Not even giving me enough time to inhale. His mouth claimed mine, and the noise that slipped out of me wasn’t dignified at all… It was a low, hungry moan I didn’t even recognize as my own. His hand came up to the back of my neck, guiding me, angling me, deepening the kiss like a man who had been starving for years and had finally been handed a meal, and I melted so fast I could barely hold my own weight. Fuck…. The way this man kissed me. My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt and pulled him closer like I couldn’t bear even an inch of space between us. I felt alive and ruined all at once. “Fuck!” I cried out as his hand slid up under my thin T-shirt, his
I pulled my knees back to my chest and pressed my forehead against them, trying to breathe around the lump in my throat. Tomorrow Noah would act like everything was fine. He’d kiss my cheek at breakfast, call me babe in front of his friends, and I’d smile because I had nowhere else to go. I was the broke girlfriend living in his father’s house, the one whose own mother had stopped taking her calls. To put it plainly, I couldn’t afford pride. But tonight, in the dark where I know nobody could see me, I let myself admit the truth I’d been choking on for weeks: I wasn’t angry at Noah for flirting with other girls by the pool. I was angry because he’d stopped flirting with me. Wasn’t that just outright pathetic. I covered my face with my hands and exhaled shakily. Sleep, I told myself. Just sleep before you start crying again like an idiot. But a Ding broke the silence. At first I ignored it, assuming it was my phone, but when I glanced across the room and saw my own device lying







