His Moans Weren’t for Me

It was a blissful Saturday afternoon.

I’d been sleeping since last night, and when I finally opened my eyes, the time was already past 1 PM. I had worked an overnight shift at the office, so sleeping in this weekend was my own little reward. But between my alarm buzzing nonstop, birds chirping outside the window, and my phone blowing up with reminders—I had no choice but to wake up.

My calendar kept screaming at me like an excited toddler: “Fifth-year anniversary with Ethan!”

I smiled, stretching lazily as I reached for my phone. The lock screen lit up with the picture of me and Ethan—my boyfriend of five years. We’d taken that photo last summer. He had his arm around me, and I had my head buried in his neck, laughing like a fool. That picture had been my wallpaper for as long as I could remember.

I unlocked the phone, only for another wave of sweetness to hit me—my home screen wallpaper. That one had my bestie, Mia. My soulmate in female form. We’d been friends for almost eight years now, roommates for the last two.

We met during grade school, went to the same university, graduated together, and stayed together while we both worked. I love that girl. She’s my other half. I call her Hubby and she calls me Wifey. Corny, right? I know, but it’s our thing. We’re inseparable.

Still smiling, I opened my messages—half expecting Ethan to have sent me a cute anniversary paragraph, or even a voice note.

But… nothing.

No message. No missed call.

I blinked. Maybe network issues? Or maybe he was planning a surprise?

Hope whispered in my ear, and I clung to it.

I got out of bed and headed straight for Mia’s room. She wasn’t just my best friend; she was also my roommate. Our apartment was small, but it was filled with laughter and secrets and love. I pushed her door open, expecting to see her scrolling on her phone or humming to some R&B song.

But the room was empty.

“Hubbbyyyyy!” I called out, dragging the word with a grin. No answer.

I went to the kitchen and found a small note stuck on the fridge, written in her bubbly handwriting:

"Wifey, I saw you were having a good rest and didn’t want to wake you. It’s the weekend, and your husband needed to step out to finish what I couldn’t complete yesterday. I’ll be back in the evening. I made a little breakfast for you. Please eat and don’t starve. I love youuuu! (With a drawing of smiling nd love emoji)"

I laughed and pressed the note against my chest. “Awwwnnn, this girl will not stop busting my head.”

I decided to freshen up in case Ethan was planning something for later. Maybe a surprise lunch date or a small party? My hopeless romantic heart was already making up scenarios.

I brushed, bathed, and did a quick skincare routine. Then I slipped into a short, cute shirt-dress and added a touch of lip gloss. My hair was still slightly curly from the rollers I’d used the night before. I combed it out gently, looked at myself in the mirror, and whispered:

“Emery Scott, you are too fine. Like… unreasonably fine.”

I blew myself a kiss and winked at my reflection.

I sat down in our tiny living room and ate the breakfast Mia made, still waiting—half-impatiently—for Ethan to text or call.

But again… nothing.

My chest sank a little.

Maybe he was also waiting for me? Maybe he thought I’d show up at his place and surprise him instead?

The idea made sense. We’d always had a playful thing about guessing each other’s moves during anniversaries. Without overthinking, I stood up, grabbed my handbag, and headed to his apartment.

I knew his security code by heart. 0718—our anniversary date. I was the one who set the code as that.

The moment I stepped inside, the silence was too still. Too… quiet.

But my heart fluttered when I noticed a red high heel sitting by the edge of the couch. My eyes widened.

He bought me shoes?

I smiled and stepped into one of them.

It was tight. Like really tight. I hissed a little but managed to squeeze my foot in.

“Hmm… maybe he guessed my size wrong,” I muttered with a small laugh. “I’ll just wear it around. It’ll expand.”

I kicked the heels off and started walking barefoot toward his bedroom. That was when I heard it.

A soft sound.

A moan.

Faint at first… but then louder.

“Ahh… ehn… uhm…”

My steps slowed. I froze. My brain started spinning, trying to justify what I was hearing.

Is he watching a movie? I smirked to myself. It must definitely be a movie.

“These modern movies ehn… they don’t even have filter again.”

But then the moans came again—louder, deeper. They didn’t sound like N*****x.

They sounded like sex.

Real, live sex.

One of them moaned his name so loud I nearly dropped my bag.

“Ethan!”

My stomach clenched. Something hot and cold passed through my chest at once. I crept closer, every step heavier than the last. The closer I got, the more real it became. The bed creaked. The moans grew faster.

I stopped breathing.

Then I heard it.

His voice.

Ethan, roaring like a lion and sweating like a Christmas goat.

I rushed forward and pushed the door open—and behold, I saw it.

A female figure, hands pressed against the wall, moaning so loud the walls could hear. And behind her… my boyfriend of five years—Ethan—thrusting into her like a man possessed.

Her voice rang out, sharp and high.

“Ethan! Oh, Ethan!”

I stood there, frozen. The room spun.

Then… their eyes locked with mine.

All three of us stilled.

But it was already too late.

The betrayal had already happened.

I just hadn’t seen her face yet.