I woke up feeling like shit—like always—but this time, the ache in my chest hit harder than usual.
"What's wrong with you, Noah..." I muttered under my breath.
Watching him leave the pizza parlor, Elara's hand wrapped around his, made my stomach twist. It felt wrong—disgustingly wrong.
That was MY moid. He was supposed to be MY trad husband.
I haven't heard a damn thing from Noah. He hasn't even looked at the message I sent.
Instead, he's wasting all his time with that stupid sister of his.
My plan's falling apart... slipping right through my hands. Fuck. I need to do something, something bigger... Something drastic.
I mulled it over for a full hour, but the only plan that stuck was to snatch him up and stash him away. When the cops inevitably rolled up, I'd coach him to say he bolted from his sister's place and ended up at mine for safety.
It seemed airtight in my head—how could it go wrong?
"I'll have to scout his house out tonight, see if I can find anything I could use to my advantage." I muttered, glancing down at my phone. Perfect. Noah should be asleep by now—he never stayed up past eleven.
My thoughts were abruptly cut off when Mom barged into my room without warning, nearly making me jump.
"Wow, that's new. Usually, you'd be jilling off to that boyfriend of yours. Nice to see you acting normal for once when I walk in."
I rolled my eyes. She caught me once—just once—and now I'm apparently some kind of chronic masturbator. Totally not true, I'm just a based Stacy that loves my future trad husband.
"Just a reminder about that boyfriend of yours—it's been, what, a week and a half?" Mom leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, that suspicious squint in her eyes. "I don't wanna be a downer, but... are you lying? He can't still be sick."
Her stare felt like a spotlight. I swallowed, forcing a shaky smile. "No, I'm not..." I said, my voice coming out weaker than I wanted. Even I didn't sound convinced.
She exhaled sharply through her nose, clearly unconvinced. "Alright, well, tell him if he can come—"
"Actually!" I blurted, my words tumbling out before she could finish. "I'm, uh, actually heading to his house right now! He just texted me—yeah, he wants me to come over and cuddle." I threw in a nervous laugh for good measure.
Mom's entire face changed in an instant—suspicion melted into pure glee. She let out this high-pitched squeal and practically launched herself at me, wrapping her arms around me so tight I could barely breathe.
"Oh my god, I'm so happy!" she cried, rocking me back and forth like I was five. "Okay, okay—just make sure you use protection, alright? Unless you two wanna give me grandkids already!"
I groaned into her shoulder, feeling my face burn. Typical Mom—never misses a chance to make things weird.
She sniffed the air, her expression twisting. Then she pulled back, fanning a hand in front of her face. "Wow... you seriously need to shower, Sara. I mean, honestly—how do you even have a boyfriend smelling like that?"
I rolled my eyes, snatching my towel off the chair. "I'm just pheromone-maxxing, Mom. Gosh, you just don't get it."
She gave me that confused mom look, somewhere between disgusted and concerned, as I stood up from the bed and stretched. A light bath would do for now—just enough to freshen up while keeping the 'pheromone aura' intact. Gotta stay pheromone-maxxing.
I turned the shower knob and waited for the water to heat up, steam slowly fogging the mirror. After a moment, I stepped in, counted to ten, and stepped right back out. That was enough. Any longer and I'd risk washing away my pheromones—my secret weapon to get Noah back.
I toweled off quickly and slipped back into the same clothes I'd worn before. They still held the faint scent of me—familiar, natural, authentic. Perfect.
When I stepped out, Mom was standing in the hallway, arms crossed, disappointment written all over her face.
"Really?" she said with a tired sigh. "Sara, whatever you've got against showers—it's not helping you."
I met her gaze, shaking my head slightly. Poor Mom. So blinded by mainstream propaganda. She'd never understand.
"Whatever, Mom. Can you drive me there? I don't feel like walking..." I said, heading downstairs. She followed close behind as I snatched her car keys off the counter and tossed them back to her.
"Can't say no to my only daughter," she laughed, jingling the keys before heading for the door.
The night air hit us as soon as we stepped outside—crisp and sharp, carrying that faint chill that clung to early autumn. Her old dark blue sedan sat in the driveway absorbing the light from the moon, the paint still holding a soft sheen from when Dad helped her buy it years ago.
I slid into the passenger seat, the cold leather making me shiver.
"Buckle up," she said, smirking as she started the car. "You got condoms, right?"
I stared at her, half-expecting her to burst out laughing. She didn't.
"Mom... let's just go," I muttered, turning my gaze toward the window.
She just chuckled, putting the car in drive. The engine hummed to life, headlights cutting through the dark street as we pulled away from the house.
"Alright then," she said, glancing my way. "Just tell me the directions, and we'll be there in no time."
And she was right — we got to Noah's house in what felt like no time at all. The difference between our neighborhoods hit me instantly. Mine looked like the trenches, all cracked pavement and flickering streetlights, while his place looked like it belonged in Beverly Hills. Even the air felt cleaner here.
"Wow," Mom muttered, eyes wide as she took in the neat lawns and polished cars. "This rich boy could probably get us out of debt..."
"Yeah, anyway..." I said, already unbuckling my seatbelt. I opened the door, the cool night air brushing against my legs. "I'll text you when to pick me up."
"Bye, Sara!" she called out as I shut the door. "Remember what I said! Condoms! Or not, I don't really care—grandkids would be nice too!"
Her voice carried just enough for me to hear but not loud enough to draw attention—though it still made me want to crawl into a hole. I waved halfheartedly as she drove off, the taillights fading into the dark suburban calm.
"Christ... hopefully I can catch the bus home," I muttered under my breath as I slipped through the side gate into Noah's backyard. The grass was damp beneath my shoes, glistening faintly under the moon light.
I crept across the damp grass toward the nearest window—his bedroom window—trying not to snap any twigs underfoot. The room was dark, empty; no sign of him anywhere. A tight knot formed in my stomach.
Where was he? Could he be...?
I edged over to the other window—the one I knew led to his sister's room—and what I saw and heard made my blood run cold, sending a strange, electric rush straight to my feet.
I stood frozen by the window, my heart pounding in my chest as I watched the scene unfold. "Fuck me harder, Elara, please, fuck me..." Noah's voice was raw, desperate, as he lay sprawled across the bed, his body trembling under her. His cock was being absolutely ravaged by Elara—my future husband's sister, the woman I despised with every fiber of my being.
Each brutal thrust from her forced a guttural moan from his lips, his eyes rolling back into his head as if he'd lost all control. The wet, rhythmic slapping of their bodies filled the room, a sickening sound that twisted my stomach. A tear slipped down my cheek, hot and bitter, as I stared at the betrayal unfolding before me.
But what I hated most—what I couldn't fucking stand—was the heat pooling between my thighs. My pussy throbbed, wet and aching, as I watched them. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, trying to fight the sick desire stirring inside me.
"Goddamn it, Elara, don't stop," Noah gasped, his voice breaking as he gripped the sheets, his hips bucking up to meet her.
"You like that, don't you?" Elara taunted, her tone dripping with smugness as she slammed into him harder, her hands pinning his wrists above his head. "Beg for it, Noah. Tell me how much you need this."
"Fuck, I need it," he groaned, his chest heaving. "I need you to wreck me."
My breath hitched, the ache in my core growing unbearable as their words seared into me. I hated her. I hated this. But I couldn't look away.