Love in lies

I stepped out of the elevator, my heart fluttering with anticipation. 

It had been weeks since I last saw Jake, my fiancé, and the ache of missing him had grown into a sharp, constant pull. 

I clutched the bottle of his favorite whiskey tighter, a peace offering and a promise for the wild night I’d planned. 

The lacy black underwear he gave me on my birthday hugged every inch of my skin, a silent reminder of the way it made him look at me, hungry, possessive, and completely undone. 

I smiled as I imagined the surprise on his face when he saw me. Tonight was going to be perfect.

The apartment was quiet as I unlocked the door. Jake’s cologne lingered in the air, rich and familiar. 

Everything was just as he liked it, neat, precise, sterile. The throw pillows were arranged perfectly, the coffee table spotless. 

I paused in the parlor, absorbing the stillness before heading upstairs. 

I wanted to surprise him, to slip into the bedroom and wrap myself around him like a gift he never saw coming. My heels clicked softly against the hardwood floors, each step echoing in the silence.

But as I neared the bedroom, my steps slowed. I heard a soft moan. Then a voice that wasn’t mine. My heart stopped mid-beat.

“Fuck, Jake,” a woman panted. “Go harder. Fuck me. Ah, yes. Hit it more, baby. I’m coming.”

The words hit me like a fist to the chest. I froze, my hand hovering just above the doorknob, shaking. 

No. No. That couldn’t be right. Not Jake. Not my Jake.

With trembling fingers, I pushed the door open. The room was dim, shadows spilling across the floor. And there they were.

My stepmother. Bent over. Jake driving into her from behind.

Her long hair spilled down her back, her body rocking with every thrust. 

Jake’s hands clutched her hips like she belonged to him, his face twisted in ecstasy. And it felt like my entire world collapsed at that moment.

The whiskey bottle slipped from my grip, smashing to pieces on the floor.

The sound startled them, Jake’s head whipped toward me, his eyes locking on mine. 

Shock registered on his face, then guilt. It flashed, just for a second, before he schooled his expression.

My stepmother turned, her lips parting, but I couldn’t speak. 

I couldn’t even breathe, my chest was tight, like someone had cinched a rope around my ribs. I just stared at both of them. 

Jake pulled out of her, scrambling to cover himself. “Anya,” he said, voice cracking. “It’s not what it looks like—”

“Not what it looks like?” I cut in, my voice shaking. “You’re fucking her? My stepmother? How could you?”

She slid off the bed, yanking the sheet around herself, eyes wide with something that looked like shame. “Anya, please, let me explain—”

“Explain what?” My voice rose, fury cutting through the hurt like a blade. “That you’ve been screwing my fiancé behind my back? That you’ve been lying to me for God knows how long?”

Jake moved toward me, arms outstretched like he thought I’d let him touch me. 

“It just happened,” he said, pleading. “It was a mistake. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“A mistake?” I laughed, the sound sharp and bitter. “This isn’t a mistake, Jake. This is betrayal. You destroyed everything.”

The room spun, I stared at the floor, the shards of glass from the whiskey bottle catching the low light like tiny knives, I felt numb. 

My stepmother stepped forward, her voice low. “Anya, I know this is hard to hear, but—”

“Don’t,” I snapped, eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare try to justify this. You crossed a line you can’t ever come back from.”

Jake’s face crumbled. “Anya, please. Let me make this right. I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

I laughed again. Broken. “Love? You call this love? You lied to me. You’ve been screwing her. How can you even say that word?”

Silence fell, thick and unbearable. I looked between them, heart pounding. 

My mind raced with questions I didn’t want answers to. How long? Before I left? Was it serious? And why her? Of all the people in the world—why her?

My stepmother looked at me, something unreadable in her expression. “Anya,” she said, voice trembling. “I never meant for it to happen like this. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Stop,” I cut her off, sharp and final. “Just stop. I don’t want to hear another word.”

I turned, my legs shaking as I stumbled for the door. 

Every step away from them felt like dragging myself through concrete, I had to get out. I couldn’t breathe in that room.

“Anya, wait,” Jake called out. “Please, let me explain.”

I paused at the door, my hand gripping the knob. I didn’t turn around. “There’s nothing to explain,” I said. “It’s over, Jake. We’re over.”

And with that, I stepped into the hallway. His voice faded behind me. The apartment door closed with a final click.

Outside, the world felt cold. Unforgiving. The weight of betrayal wrapped around me like a second skin. 

I didn’t know where I was going, or what I’d do next. But one thing was clear, my life would never be the same again.

And as I walked, the questions started to rise. How could I have been so blind? How could I have trusted them so completely? And now what? What was left for me after this?

I walked home, I didn't know how I was going to face my father. Knowing that his wife was cheating on him with my fiance, or rather ex fiance. 

I didn't think I could bring myself to tell him, I just walked. 

The distance between Jake's apartment and my house wasn't that long, so I just walked home, my mind occupied with thought. 

After about an hour and 30 minutes, I finally got home. 

I neared the door thinking about how I'd face my dad. 

Turns out there were other plans for me behind that gate.