After The Kiss

SOPHIA'S POV

I needed to get out of there. The air in Darcy's family home felt thick with secrets, and every minute I stayed made the guilt twist deeper in my gut. "I need to get back to college," I said, forcing a smile as I zipped up my bag. "I have tons of things to do. I'm sorry for not staying as much as I wanted."

Darcy frowned, folding her arms across her chest like a barrier. She looked so much like her father in that moment, stubborn, unyielding. 

"We agreed you would stay to meet my mom," she said, her voice edged with disappointment as she stared at me like I had done the most hideous crime.

I cleared my throat, the sound awkward and guilty. God, how could I explain? I'd slept with Eric, her own father—the man whose dick had created the life that birthed her into this world. Okay, that phrasing was messed up even in my head, but the betrayal burned. 

I was the worst kind of friend, the kind who crossed lines that should never be touched. "I'm sorry," I murmured. "I'll make it up to you. I promise."

She nodded, stepping forward, and before I could pull away, her lips were on mine. 

What started as a simple goodbye kiss turned steamy fast—her hands in my hair, my body pressing against hers. It was wrong on so many levels, but in that moment, it felt like defiance.

"Take this to your room or something," Eric's voice cut in from the doorway, sharp and irritated.

I smirked against Darcy's lips, pulling back just enough to glance at him. Good. He was pissed. That was exactly what I wanted after everything. This was perfect payback for the mess he had dragged me into.

"Same place," Eric added, his tone shifting to something almost casual, like he hadn't just interrupted us. "I could drop you off if you want."

I snapped my head up, disapproval flaring hot. No. No, no, no. I didn't want to be in the same car as him, breathing the same air, pretending like our nights together hadn't happened. "I'm good," I said flatly. "I'll catch a ride share."

Darcy gave me one last hug, her eyes lingering a little too long, and I bolted before things could get more complicated.

Back at college, the dorm felt like a sanctuary. 

Darcy and I shared the space—bunk beds, posters of indie bands, the faint smell of instant noodles and lavender from her diffuser, but even here, Eric haunted me. 

He was my professor, for God's sake. Our affair had started innocently enough, a late-night office hour turning into coffee, then more. But now? It was toxic. I couldn't keep doing this, especially not with Darcy in the picture.

I decided that day to cut it off. No more stolen glances in lecture halls, no more secret texts. I wanted to reject him clean and clear. But Eric refused to let go. The next class, he cornered me after everyone left. "Sophia, we need to talk," he said, his voice low, eyes pleading.

"There's nothing to talk about," I replied, grabbing my notebook. "It's over."

"It's not," he insisted, stepping closer. "You can't just walk away."

Watch me, I thought, but I didn't say it. Instead, I started ignoring him. In lectures, I would sit in the back, avoiding eye contact. I would slip out before he even finished his closing remarks, leaving him mid-sentence about economic theories or whatever the hell he was droning on about. It was petty, but it felt necessary.

I could see it wearing on him. His lectures grew disjointed… he would pause mid-thought, staring at the door where I'd vanished. His face looked haggard, dark circles under his eyes like he wasn't sleeping. 

Part of me felt a twisted satisfaction, let him suffer like I was. But another part wondered if he was realizing something deeper. Love? Obsession? Whatever it was, it made him desperate.

A week later, it all came crashing down. I was in the dorm, sprawled on my bed with textbooks scattered around me, when Darcy burst in. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing a little ragged. "Sophia, can we talk?" She asked, shutting the door behind her.

"Sure," I said, sitting up. "What's up?"

She paced for a moment, twisting her hands. Then she stopped, facing me. "I... I need to tell you something. I've been holding it in for so long." Her voice trembled. "I'm gay. And… and I want to be with you. Like, in a relationship."

My heart dropped. Darcy? My roommate, my friend—Darcy's confession hit like a freight train. I'd sensed her lingering looks, the way she'd brush against me, but this? "Darcy, I..." I started searching for words. 

"I'm flattered, really. But I don't feel that way about you. We're friends. Best friends. I can't, I had just  moved on with what you had said about you wanting your father to feel you had settled in properly.” Her face crumpled.

"Please, Sophia. Just think about it. We've been so close, and that kiss before you left... it meant something."

"It was a goodbye," I said gently, standing to hug her. But she pulled back, her breaths coming shorter, sharper.

"No, no," she whispered, clutching her chest. "I can't... I can't breathe."

Panic attack. Shit. Darcy was asthmatic and it was fucking severe, the kind that could spiral fast into her dying.

Her face turned pale, breaths escaping her lips as she doubled over. 

"Inhaler," I gasped, rummaging through her nightstand. I found it, pressed it to her mouth, but she was hyperventilating now, tears streaming. "Darcy, breathe. In and out."

She shook her head, collapsing to the floor. "Please... don't reject me... I need you..."

The door creaked open, I hadn't heard the knock. Eric stood there, his face mortified.

He must have come to see me, but now he was frozen, overhearing everything. His daughter, confessing her love to me… the same girl he had been sleeping with. Well just once or twice… The irony was cruel.

"Dad?" Darcy wheezed, spotting him. But her attack worsened, her lips tinting blue. I grabbed my phone, dialing emergency, but she clutched my arm. "Sophia... say yes... please..."

In that moment, with her gasping for air, her eyes pleading, I broke. "Okay," I whispered, holding her. "Okay, I'll be with you. Just breathe."

Paramedics arrived minutes later, stabilizing her with oxygen and meds. Eric hovered in the background, silent, his eyes meeting mine only once. 

And it was filled with a mix of betrayal and heartbreak. He slipped out before they took her to the hospital for observation.

That night, alone in the dorm, I curled up on my bed, sobs wracking my body. I had cut off Eric, ignored him, pushed him away. And now? I'd accepted Darcy out of fear, pity… whatever you call it when someone's life hangs in the balance. 

But deep down, I knew the truth… I loved Eric. 

The realization hit like a storm, his persistence, his misery these past weeks. Oh my goodness, it wasn't just lust. It was real for him too.

But what now? Darcy thought we were together. Eric had heard it all. And me? I was trapped in the middle, the architect of my own disaster.

The next day, Darcy was back, beaming despite the fatigue. "You meant it, right?" She asked, snuggling against me on the couch.

I nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah." Lie. But her attack had been so severe, the doctors said stress triggered it. I couldn't risk that again.

Classes resumed, but Eric was a ghost. He lectured mechanically, avoiding my gaze. I wanted to explain, to tell him it was a mistake, but how? "Hey, your daughter had a panic attack, so I fake-agreed to date her"?

Weeks blurred. Darcy and I ‘dated,’ held hands, movie nights, chaste kisses that felt hollow. She was happy, her asthma stable. Eric? 

He looked like hell, thinner, distant. I overheard him canceling office hours, saw him staring at photos on his phone—probably family pics, including Darcy.

One evening, he showed up at the dorm again. Darcy was out grabbing food. "Sophia," he said, voice raw. "I heard everything that night. I... I realized how much I love you. Seeing you with her… it kills me."

"Eric, don't," I whispered, glancing at the door. "It's complicated."

He stepped closer. "Leave her. Be with me."

"I can't. Her attack and she's your daughter. You cared about your happiness more than hers?"

"Sophia!" Darcy's voice from the hall. She walked in, takeout bags in hand, freezing at the sight of her dad. "What are you doing here?"

Eric straightened. "Just checking on you both." His eyes lingered on me, a silent plea.

As he left, Darcy turned to me, suspicious. "What was that about?"

"Nothing," I lied again.

But inside, I was unraveling. I had rejected Eric to protect us all, but now love pulled me back. Darcy clung tighter, her confessions turning possessive. And Eric? He'd fight for me, I knew it, even though his fight would be against his own daughter.