Chapter 7: The Event

I stayed frozen on the couch long after Ryan went upstairs. My whole body still trembled. Marcus waited a few more minutes before he quietly slipped out from behind the couch. His eyes locked on mine.

“That was way too close,” he whispered.

“Get out,” I said, voice shaking. “Back door. Hurry.”

I waited until I heard the soft click before I could move again. My leggings were ruined. I rushed upstairs for a shower.

The hot water helped, but my mind wouldn’t stop spinning. I scrubbed between my legs until my skin felt raw, watching the evidence of what we’d done disappear down the drain. Guilt sat heavy in my chest.

When I came downstairs, Ryan had ordered Thai food and even set the table. He looked up and smiled, a rare sight these days.

“You really pushed yourself today,” he said as we sat. “You look different. Sweaty. Flushed. I like it.”

I forced myself to eat a few bites of salad. “Marcus works me hard.”

Ryan reached over and took my hand. “Good. Maybe this trainer money I spent isn't wasted after all.” His thumb stroked my skin. “After we eat… let’s go to bed. It’s been a long day for me, Bella.”

We ate and went upstairs to sleep but I barely slept after that close call with Ryan. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him walking toward the couch where Marcus was hiding. The next morning I moved around the house like a ghost, deleting messages and trying to act normal. Ryan didn’t say much during breakfast, but I caught him watching me a few times.

Around noon he walked into the living room while I was editing a short video for my followers.

“We got invited to a fitness brand launch event tonight,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “Big hotel downtown. They want influencers and their spouses there. We’re going as a couple.”

I looked up from my laptop, surprised. “You hate these kinds of things. You always say they’re full of fake people.”

Ryan shrugged. “It’s good for your image or whatever you call it, and I wasn't invited. Just wear something decent. Don’t embarrass me.”

His words landed heavy, but I nodded. “Okay. I’ll find something.”

The rest of the day I tried to stay busy. I filmed a quick story in my workout clothes, talking about feeling stronger and showing off a new dress I planned to wear. Comments came in fast. “You look amazing!” “Can’t wait to see how it turned out to be on you at the event!” “Who’s the lucky husband?” I replied with hearts and kept it light, but inside I felt hollow.

By six o’clock I stood in front of the mirror in a black plus-size dress. It hugged my full breasts, soft belly, wide hips and thick thighs. The fabric was smooth and elegant, with a modest neckline but still showing my curves. I added a bit of makeup and left my wavy hair down. For a second I felt good. Powerful even. Then Ryan came in.

“Ready?” he asked. He looked me up and down. “That dress makes you look bigger. Whatever. Let’s go.”

The drive to the event was quiet. I tried to make conversation once or twice.

“Think there will be good drinks there?” I asked.

He kept his eyes on the road. “Probably. Just don’t drink too much and make a scene.”

I swallowed the hurt and looked out the window. When we arrived at the fancy ballroom, lights sparkled from chandeliers. Music played softly. People in beautiful clothes laughed and networked. For a moment it felt exciting. Ryan even held my hand as we walked in. But the second we stepped inside, he dropped it.

“Do whatever you want but don't wander off,” he said. “I need to talk to some people.”

Before I could answer, he walked off toward a group of slim women in tight dresses. I stood there alone, feeling the eyes on me. My dress suddenly felt too tight. I made my way to the bar and ordered a glass of white wine. Then another.

I found a high table near the side and leaned against it, watching the room. Ryan was laughing with those women, smiling wide, touching one on the arm like he used to do with me. My chest tightened. I sipped my wine faster.

A man in a nice dark shirt walked up. He looked around thirty, with a friendly face and short hair.

“Excuse me,” he said with a warm smile. “You’re Isabella Torres, right? The plus-size fashion influencer?”

I smiled back, genuinely this time. “Yes. Hi.”

“I’m Jake. Huge fan. Your videos helped my sister so much. She’s plus-size and always felt bad about herself until she saw your content. You really make people feel seen.”

We started talking. Jake was easy to be around. He asked about my favorite brands, and how I stayed confident. I gave him the usual answers I used online.

“It’s all about loving the body you have,” I said, taking another sip. “Curves are beautiful. Strength comes in all sizes.”

He nodded, but his eyes were kind. “You okay tonight? You seem a little sad behind the smile.”

I laughed lightly and waved it off. “No, I’m fine. Just tired from alot. My husband is around here somewhere. Events like this can be overwhelming, but I love meeting people like you.”

We ordered more drinks. Time passed quickly. Jake told me funny stories about his sister trying my recipes. I laughed for real. For the first time that night I didn’t feel invisible. We talked about body positivity, social media pressure, and even some workout tips. Another glass went down smoothly.

I checked my phone. It was getting late. Ryan still hadn’t come back. The room felt warmer. My head was fuzzy.

“I should probably head home,” I said, standing up. The floor tilted a bit. “It was really nice talking to you, Jake.”

“Are you sure you can drive?” he asked, looking concerned. “You’ve had a few.”

“I’ll be okay,” I said, but my words sounded slow.

He followed me to the parking lot anyway. “Let me give you a lift. It’s no trouble. I’m completely sober.”

I hesitated, but the dizziness won. “Alright. Thank you.”

I gave him my address and climbed into his car. The seat felt comfortable. The streetlights blurred as we drove. I leaned my head against the window.

“You know,” Jake said softly, “you don’t have to pretend all the time. It’s okay to have bad days.”

I murmured something, but my eyes were already closing. The wine had hit me harder than I thought. The world faded away.

I woke up slowly, feeling warm and heavy. Something soft and wet was on my left breast. A gentle sucking sensation. My dress strap was pulled down, the bra cup moved aside. Jake’s mouth was around my nipple, his tongue circling slowly while his hand gently squeezed the heavy flesh.

I was still drunk, head spinning, body slow to respond. The car was parked right outside my house compound, engine off, lights out. Jake didn’t know I was waking up. He sucked a little harder, moaning quietly like he couldn’t help himself.

My heart started racing, but my body felt too heavy to move fast.

At that exact moment, bright headlights swept across the street. Ryan’s car pulled up behind us. He got out, phone in hand, looking annoyed. He started walking straight toward Jake’s car, squinting to see through the tinted windows.

He was only a few steps away now.

I tried to speak, but everything felt like slow motion. Probably because I had too much drink.

Ryan kept coming closer.