LOGINBeth
The office felt… different.
Not because anything had changed. My desk was still my desk. My monitor still had the sticky note Rachel slapped on last week that read “Stop opening 37 tabs, your laptop has feelings.”
But something in me had shifted.
I wasn’t dragging myself through the day. I wasn’t forcing a smile just to keep up appearances. I was actually here—in my body, in my head. Not floating somewhere behind my own eyes, dissociating every time a memory tried to gut me.
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BethThe office felt… different.Not because anything had changed. My desk was still my desk. My monitor still had the sticky note Rachel slapped on last week that read “Stop opening 37 tabs, your laptop has feelings.”But something in me had shifted.I wasn’t dragging myself through the day. I wasn’t forcing a smile just to keep up appearances. I was actually here—in my body, in my head. Not floating somewhere behind my own eyes, dissociating every time a memory tried to gut me.
StacyThe weekend was a blur of silk sheets and whispered promises.Of holding her.Of her holding me.Beth had made it clear what she wanted—needed—from me. Not just comfort. Not just reassurance. But a way to reclaim her body, her power, her pleasure. She’d said she wanted to rewrite the memory of what Tommy did with something good, something safe. And gods help me, I’d given it to her.But now it was Monday.And my stomach twisted with the kind of worry I couldn’t fuck away.Because the truth was, this couldn’t just be about erasing Tommy. Not if we were going to make it. She needed to deal with what happened. Face it. Process it. Heal.I wasn’t about to let myself become the band-aid she ripped off later.She was still asleep when I slipped out of bed. I padded into the kitchen, started the coffee, and opened my Notes app like I was prepping for surgery. • Find trauma-informed therapist • Call Beth’s leasing office • Contact realtor (options, not pressure) • Get mail forwarded
BethThe soft ding wasn’t the doorbell.It was the gate buzzer.Stacy pushed up from the bed with a muttered curse and strode over to the dresser, snatching up his phone. I watched him swipe to the camera feed—and then freeze.His jaw clenched. “It’s Adam and Rachel.”“What?” I sat up, suddenly flustered and half-naked. “Here?”He nodded, already pulling on a pair of jeans. “Yup. Guess I owe you a rain check, baby girl. You better get dressed—your bestie’s about to bust in with righteous fury.”I scrambled out of bed as he unlocked the gate. “You think she brought pitchforks?”“I think she is the pitchfork,” he muttered, buttoning his fly.By the time we made it to the front door, I’d barely thrown on one of Stacy’s oversized shirts and wiped the residual mascara smudge from under my
BethI shifted, moving carefully, deliberately, until I was settled between his legs.Stacy adjusted with me without breaking eye contact, scooting higher against the pillows, broad back braced, chest open—watching me like he already knew exactly where this was going and had no intention of stopping it.My pulse thudded in my ears.“Is this what I looked like,” I asked softly, “between your legs… when you fantasized about me?”His jaw tightened. “Pretty damn close.”I wrapped my hand around him again—warm, heavy, hard—and leaned forward slowly. My tongue traced a slow, deliberate path up his shaft, tasting him, learning him.“Did I lick you like this?” I murmured, dragging my tongue higher, savoring the way his body reacted.His breath stuttered. “No,” he said roughly. “That’s already better t
BethI woke slowly.Not with panic. Not with my heart in my throat. Just… awareness.Warmth at my back. A steady chest rising and falling beneath my cheek. An arm heavy and protective around my waist.And my hand.Still wrapped around him.Stacy’s cock was hard in my palm—thick, hot, undeniably real. It took my foggy brain a second to catch up, but when it did, heat rushed through me so fast it made my toes curl.Oh.I didn’t move right away.Didn’t squeeze. Didn’t pull away.I just stayed there, fingers curled around him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like I’d woken up exactly where I belonged.He shifted behind me, a low breath leaving his chest as his hips moved ever so slightly. The change made me suddenly aware—oh God, he’s awake—and instinct kicked in.I let go.Too fast. Too obvious.“Don’t let go on account of me.”His voice was rough with sleep and something darker beneath it. Something amused.I froze.“What?” I whispered.He chuckled softly against the bac
StacyHer breath slowed against my chest, warm and steady. One arm draped across my stomach, her leg tangled with mine, hair spilled over my shoulder.God, she looked peaceful.I didn’t deserve the way she trusted me.I wrapped my arms tighter around her, one hand gliding up her spine, just to feel her breathe. I’d never held someone like this after—not like she was breakable, but like she was mine. Not even Tommy’s mom and I was with her for seventeen years. But beneath the stillness, my mind wouldn’t shut off.Was I wrong?I’d told myself I wouldn’t cross that line. I’d tried to tell her no—you deserve time, space, healing. But the way she looked at me… the way she asked, let me choose what I feel next—and chose me?How the fuck was I supposed to deny her that?Not when she was shaking in my arms. Not when her voice cracked, asking me to help her rewrite the memory of someone else’s cruelty.Not when I’d imagined it—us—a hundred times. A thousand.And now that I had her?Now I was







