The lies we wear

Olivia

I slumped against the passenger seat as Ryan's car cruised through the palm-lined streets of Los Angeles.

My eyelids felt heavy after a twelve-hour shift at Carter Enterprises. The quarterly marketing campaign required us all to work overtime, and as a junior marketing executive, I was stuck with weekend work.

"You still with me, babe?" Ryan glanced over, his perfectly styled dark hair catching the sunset's glow.

"Barely." I stifled a yawn. "Remind me why we're going to this party when I could be face-planting into my pillow right now?"

"Because Sophia would kill you if you missed her birthday." He reached over and squeezed my knee. "And because you look stunning in that dress I bought for you."

I glanced down at the black cocktail dress he'd insisted I wear. The neckline plunged lower than I'd normally choose, and the hemline rode high enough to make me self-conscious every time I sat down.

Ryan had shown up at my apartment with the dress in a boutique bag, eyes gleaming with anticipation as I'd tried it on.

"I still think it's a bit much for a birthday party," I tugged at the fabric, trying to cover more of my chest.

"Liv, we've been dating for two years. I know what looks good on you better than you do. Trust me, every guy at this party will wish he was me tonight."

"Is that what this is about? Marking your territory?"

"Can you blame me?" He winked as he turned onto Sophia's street, where luxury cars lined both sides.

Sophia's recently purchased triplex stood illuminated against the darkening sky, music pulsing from within. For someone only turning twenty-five, she'd done remarkably well for herself in real estate development.

Ryan found a spot half a block away and cut the engine. "Ready to make an entrance, Ms. Morgan?"

"As I'll ever be." I grabbed my purse and the gift bag containing the vintage champagne Ryan had suggested we bring.

The cool evening air hit my bare shoulders as I stepped out of the car, making me shiver. Ryan's arm slid around my waist, his hand resting dangerously low on my hip.

"See? Worth getting dressed up for." He nodded toward the house. "This place is insane."

We walked up the curved driveway where twinkling lights had been strung through the palm trees. The front door stood open, spilling light, music, and laughter onto the porch.

"Olivia! You made it!" Sophia appeared in the doorway, resplendent in a gold sequined dress. "I was starting to think you'd stood me up!"

"My work tried its best to keep me away," I laughed, accepting her enthusiastic hug. "Happy birthday, Soph."

"And Ryan, looking delicious as always." She air-kissed his cheeks. "Come in, come in! Everyone's already two drinks ahead of you."

Ryan's hand pressed against the small of my back as we entered the foyer, which opened to a massive great room where at least thirty people mingled. The space featured floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the twinkling Los Angeles skyline.

"Drink?" Ryan asked, already scanning the room.

"God, yes. The strongest thing they've got."

He chuckled. "That's my girl. Be right back."

As Ryan disappeared toward the bar setup, I heard a familiar squeal from across the room.

"Olivia Morgan, get your ass over here!"

I turned to see Emilia waving frantically from a plush sectional sofa. My best friend since college was already flushed from alcohol, her blonde hair falling in waves around her shoulders.

"Em!" I navigated through clusters of guests to reach her. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to know the bartender's life story." She stood, wobbling slightly in her heels, and embraced me. She pulled back, holding me at arm's length to examine my outfit. "Holy shit, your boobs look amazing in that dress. Did Ryan pick it out?"

I felt my cheeks warm. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only because I've known you for eight years, and you've never willingly shown that much cleavage." She smirked. "Not that I'm complaining. If I had your rack, I'd show it off, too."

"Could you say that a little louder? I don't think everyone in Malibu heard you."

"Sorry, can't help it. You're too easy to embarrass." Emilia's eyes danced with mischief as she took another sip of her drink. "By the way, have you seen our birthday girl? I swear she was here greeting people and then just... vanished."

I scanned the crowded room. "No, actually. Where did Ryan go? He was supposed to be getting me a drink."

"Maybe he's outside? I saw some people heading to the back lawn earlier." Emilia shrugged. "Or he could be sneaking a cigarette."

I narrowed my eyes. "He told me he quit three months ago. If I catch him smoking after all that 'I'm done with nicotine forever, baby' bullshit, I'll kill him myself."

"Men lie about the stupidest things. Like, just admit you still smoke and save us both the drama."

"I'm going to find him," I said, tugging at my dress, which had ridden up dangerously high. "If he's outside with a cigarette, I'm putting it on his favorite shoes."

"That's my girl." Emilia raised her glass. "I'll be right here judging everyone's outfit choices when you get back."

I weaved through the crowded living room, nodding at half-familiar faces from past gatherings. The kitchen was jammed with people mixing drinks.

No Ryan.

The back patio held a group playing some drinking games with shots and ping pong balls. No Ryan among them.

"Looking for someone?" A tall guy with a man-bun approached, his eyes dropping to my cleavage before meeting my gaze.

"My boyfriend. Tall, dark hair, probably looking smug about something."

He laughed. "Haven't seen him. But I'd be happy to keep you company until he shows up."

"Hard pass, but thanks." I turned away, irritation building. Where the hell was Ryan with my drink?

I climbed the modern floating staircase to the next floor, where the noise from the party became more muffled. The hallway was dimly lit and had several closed doors.

A sound caught my attention – a moan? A laugh? Something between the two. It was faint, coming from further down the hall.

The sound came again, more distinct this time. Definitely a moan.

Great. A couple had found a private spot to hook up at Sophia's party. How classy.

I was about to turn back when I noticed a slightly ajar door at the end of the hallway, a sliver of light spilling onto the hardwood floor. Something compelled me forward – curiosity, or perhaps a sixth sense I didn't know I had.

As I approached, the sounds became clearer. A woman's voice, breathless and urgent: "Fuck, yes, right there."

I froze. The voice was familiar.

A male voice responded, low and commanding: "You like that, don't you? Tell me how much you want it."

My stomach dropped. Ryan's voice.

I should have turned away, run down those stairs, and straight out the front door. Instead, I moved closer, pushing the door open wider.

The scene burned into my retinas like a brand. Sophia bent over her dresser; her gold dress pushed up around her waist. Ryan was behind her, his pants around his ankles, hands gripping her hips as he thrust into her.

"Harder," Sophia gasped. "Make me feel it tomorrow."

"What the fuck?" The words escaped me before I could stop them.

They both froze. Ryan's head whipped around, his eyes widening with shock.