Chapter 5: The Picture

I’m starting to leave things at his place. A hair tie on the bathroom counter. My cheap strawberry shampoo in his shower. One of my old hoodies folded on the chair because I got cold one night and he gave me his, so I left mine behind. Little pieces of me are spreading through his big, clean penthouse like I belong here.

I keep telling myself I don’t.

It’s a Thursday night. I finished cleaning early and came straight over. Noah opens the door still in his work shirt, tie loose, looking tired but happy to see me. He kisses me hello like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

We eat pizza on the couch, legs tangled, some cooking show on in the background. He laughs at something I say about a customer at the diner, and the sound makes my stomach flip.

After, we take a long shower together. Water hot, steam everywhere. His hands slide over my wet skin, soaping my back, then my front. He spends extra time on my breasts—always does—thumbs circling until I’m leaning against the tile, breathing fast.

We don’t even make it back to the bed before he lifts me, presses me against the glass wall, and slides inside slow.

I moan into his mouth. He swallows every sound, moving deep and steady, hand still cupping me like he can’t let go.

When we finish, my legs are shaking. He wraps me in a towel, carries me to bed, and holds me until we fall asleep.

I wake up in the middle of the night to my phone buzzing on the nightstand.

It’s face down, screen lighting up again and again. I reach for it, careful not to wake him.

Unknown number. A picture message.

I open it.

My breath stops.

It’s me and Noah. Last week. We’re leaving the building together late at night—his hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward his car. My head is turned up, smiling at something he said. His face is soft, in a way I’ve only seen when he looks at me.

Below the photo, a text:

Cute couple. How much does he pay you to smile like that?

My hands go ice cold. The phone slips a little. I sit up fast, heart racing.

Another message comes through.

Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe… for now.

I stare at the screen until it goes dark.

Noah stirs beside me.

“Lila? You okay?”

I force a smile, turn the phone face down again. “Yeah. Just Jess from work.”

He makes a sleepy sound and pulls me back down, arm heavy around my waist. “Come here.”

I curl into him, but I don’t sleep again.

All I can think about is that picture.

Someone saw us.

Someone knows.

And tomorrow Grandma has a check-up. She’s been talking about meeting the “kind donor” who paid for everything, wanting to thank them in person.

I press my face into Noah’s chest and try not to shake.

Because if that photo gets out…

Everything falls apart.

Grandma will know.

The world will know.

And I’ll have to admit this stopped being just nights I sold a long time ago.

To be continued…