《Wrecking His Marriage (Short Story Collection)》全部章節：第 11 章 - 第 19 章

Madeline Pov I was already awake when I realized he was sleeping on my chest, his breaths soft and warm against my skin. He looked so beautiful in the dim light that it felt crazy, unbelievable, that I had finally done it. We had finally done it. I had felt him inside me, he had said I was perfect and beautiful, and my plan, my stupid, desperate plan, had actually worked. A dull, persistent sting throbbed in my thigh even after he’d cleaned me up last night. I carefully tucked my hair behind my ear, the movement slight so as not to disturb him, and leaned over to grab the aspirin from the nightstand. I gulped it down with a glass of tepid water, the pill scratching its way down my throat, before I settled back against the pillows, willing myself to fall asleep again. When I woke next, the digital clock on his dresser glowed 6:00 PM. The dorm closes at 10:00 PM, so I guessed I was staying the night. That fuzzy, warm fantasy was completely gone the moment a hand shook my leg, firm and

My mother invited our neighbor, Paul Macaulay, to dinner.I watch him eat his meal, a tight smile fixed on his face as he avoids my gaze, just like he always does.He’s wearing a fine pin-striped suit, but his hair is still messy, rough in that way I’ve come to know. I subtly admire the light stubble on his face, a mix of brown and grey that catches the light.He’s handsome as always, acting completely normal, keeping up the charade even though he was inside me right before he came here. His lips are still swollen from our kiss, his hair barely in place, and if I look closely, I can still see the faint smudge of my lipstick on his collar—left there in our rush, our desperation to be fast.My eyes drop to his fingers. He isn’t wearing his wedding ring, just like he promised. The sight suddenly makes me sick, and I down an entire glass of wine in one go."Be careful, Babe. You don’t want to get drunk," my boyfriend, Zayne, slowly urges me, his hand resting on my knee in a gesture that’s

He climbs up my body, his own breathing still uneven. He hovers over me, propped on his elbows, his dark eyes searching my face. I’m still floating, my limbs heavy, my mind pleasantly blank. The hum of the jet feels like a lullaby.He leans down and kisses me softly, letting me taste myself on his lips. It’s intimate, grounding.“You okay?” he murmurs, brushing a damp strand of hair from my forehead.I manage a weak nod. “More than.”His smile is tender, but there’s a familiar heat still smoldering in his gaze. The tenderness is a brief reprieve; I know him too well to think we’re finished. He is a man who takes his time, who enjoys every stage of unraveling me.He shifts his weight, his hands moving to my hips. “Turn over,” he says, his voice a quiet command.The fog of my first release clears a little, replaced by a fresh spark of anticipation. I push myself up, my body still humming, and roll onto my stomach. The bed is cool against my flushed skin. I get onto my hands and knees, f

When the flight lands in Vegas, I'm completely tired, my bones are aching and I could barely move. He lifts me up after helping me change in a knitted turtle neck dress and a jacket. I cling to him, breathing in his scent as the crew members gives us a knowing look.I know that sooner or later, we'd have to get it done with.I fall asleep at the back of the Bentley that drives us to where my parents are, he's more active than me and it makes me extremely jealous especially since he's the one that did this to me.My thighs are burning and sore, vision blurry but I can feel myself getting carried and I can hear my ringtone that comes to a stop.The next morning, I get up with a stretch. My eyes widen when I see a large frame of our wedding photo at the center of a room I recognize well. It's the room we had our wedding night in, the same hotel he took my virginity. He didn't take me to my parents.I hear footsteps approaching, then he appears from the doors with two coffee mugs in han

He looks rougher than I’ve ever seen him. The sharp, polished edges are gone, replaced by a raw, unshaven scruff and shadows under his bloodshot eyes. The refusal to sign the papers in Vegas, the no-show at the hearing—I met his stubbornness with silence. I cut all contact. My father is still a silent figure in a hospital bed. Zayne is awake, trapped in a body that doesn’t obey him, and I owe him my presence. That’s the debt I’m paying.It’s been almost a month. Gayle called off her wedding to Carlos. She said the accident made her see clearly—she never loved him. Maybe the crash gave us all a brutal sort of clarity. I don’t know. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, a nervous habit, as Paul steps back to let me into the penthouse.The space is a ghost of itself. Everything is packed into cardboard boxes, taped shut and labeled. The furniture is still here, but it feels empty, waiting. The only thing that isn’t packed, the only thing hanging on the vast living room wall, is our wedd