Daddy's sinful pleasure

Zoella's pov

  Next Morning

   Sunlight punched through the curtains, dragging me out of my sleepy haze. 

        My head was pounding. It felt like I had been run over by a truck and abandoned by the side of the road. The pounding wasn't just physical; it was emotional, too.

        I winced, dragging the sheets tighter around my body and over my face as I stirred on the king-sized bed. 

        The first thing I noticed, besides the pounding in my head, was that I was alone.

        The second? I was very naked beneath the covers. 

        My heart skidded in my chest as I lifted the blanket slowly and peeked down at my naked frame.

        Did we...? 

        Did I?

        I sat up slowly, like my skull might fall off if I moved too fast, and took stock of the room.

        My dress from the night before was folded neatly on the armchair, like someone had cared just enough to not leave it crumpled on the floor, but not enough to stick around and say goodbye.

        There was a tray of untouched food on the table-croissants, scrambled eggs, and a steaming mug of something that no longer steamed.

        But no Julian.

         Was that even his real name?

        No note. No goodbye. Just the faint memory of him lingering in the air-his cologne and whatever the hell he did to me last night that made my thighs sore and my heart confused.

        My head throbbed as I tried to piece it together: We kissed. Or at least, I think we did. I remembered pressing against him... the feel of his mouth near my ear... his voice low and dangerous, the feel of his huge cock as I stroked it. And then-

        Blank.

        Shit. 

        I couldn't even remember if I had managed to come at least. 

        For fucks sake, Zoe. First time cheating and you don't even have a memory to savor?

        I buried my face in my hands. Had I thrown myself at him and blacked out mid-seduction?

        Maybe he stopped things before they went too far. That seemed like something a man like Julian would do. Rational, cold, and in control.

        Ugh.

        I pressed a hand to my forehead, and that's when it hit me.

        Not the memory of Julian's lips or whatever we may or may not have done.

        No.

        Liam.

        As a rusty blade shoved through my chest, the memory of him came flooding back-his mouth on Madison, his hands where they had no business being, the betrayal lighting up behind my eyes like a bomb. 

        The best friend and the fiancé. That would make a good movie title.

        My life is exploding like a poorly written soap opera.

        I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to shut out the image, but it was like trying to unsee porn. It was branded in my brain.

        God, I could still hear him.

        "Zoe, it's not what it looks like."

        Sure. Because your tongue just tripped and accidentally fell into her mouth, Liam.

        I huffed out a breath and rolled my eyes at the ceiling. "Men. Even at their worst, they're still impressively stupid."

        I climbed out of bed and got dressed in last night's dress as my mind raced with several thoughts. The top of which was.

        Where do I go from here?

        •••••

        Later That Morning.

        The cab was too quiet. Even with the radio humming low and the driver mumbling into his headset, everything around me felt... muted. 

        Like I'd been dunked underwater.

        I pressed my forehead to the window, the cool glass a small relief from the heat crawling up my neck. My hands were balled tight in my lap, my fingernails digging crescents into my palms. 

        I didn't even realize I was shaking until I looked down and saw the tremors run through me like aftershocks.

        How could he do this to me?

        A single tear slipped down my cheek, and I didn't bother wiping it away. More followed anyway, so there was no point.

        It wasn't just the cheating that hurt.

        It was the betrayal.

        Liam.

        Fiancé. Cheat. Coward. Walking cliché.

        I stared out the window, watching New York fly by. My stomach twisted as the thought of going back to that house hit me again.

        We bought it together. My name is on the documents. My money went into that place.

         My Pinterest boards picked out the damn curtains. I wasn't about to let a lying, gaslighting dickbag chase me out of my own home.

        I gave him love, patience, and loyalty.

        And he gave my best friend his body.

        A sob clawed up my throat,t and I pressed the back of my hand against my mouth to silence it. 

        I caught the driver staring at me from his rearview mirror. 

        Perhaps a crying woman who smelled like tequila wasn't what he saw every day. 

        Just then, my phone buzzed with a new message. 

        I turned it off last night. Not wanting to be bothered by the weight of phone calls or messages. 

        But now it was on, and I couldn't escape reality anymore.

         I glanced down at the phone. It was Liam. I opened it and saw the thread of messages.

        Liam: 'Zoe. Please, I'm sorry. I'm trying to reach you, but your calls all keep going to voicemail.' 9:00 pm

        Liam: 'Zo Please come home so we can talk about this. I never meant to hurt you. It was a mistake, and I was drunk. '

        10:40 pm

        Liam: 'Zoe, please i'm really worried. Please call or text back. I promise this will never happen again.'

       11:50 p.m.

        My eyes scrolled down to the most recent.

        Liam: 'Zo, please let me make it up to you. I called all night, but no response. I drove around the neighborhood, but there was no sign of you. I'm waiting outside. I love you,u please come home.' 

        7:40 am

        I turned off my phone in disgust. 

        A mistake? 

        Drunk? 

        My heart pounded so hard I thought it might give out right there in the back of the Uber. 

        But through the pain and disgust I felt, which was sharp and bone-deep, a new emotion crept in like smoke.

        Rage. 

        The nerve of that man. 

        My first reaction yesterday was to run.

         But no, I wasn't going to run.

        I wasn't going to beg him to love me again or forgive him. 

        A wicked smile crept across my lips as an idea suddenly struck me. 

        No. I was going to pretend.

        I was going to perform.

        If Liam wanted a good girl, he shouldn't have made me the villain.

        I had a plan. Oh, it was petty. It was delicious. It was me.

        First, I'd tell him I forgave him. I'd play the role of the heartbroken woman who just couldn't bear to throw everything away. 

        Who still wanted to hold onto her home and her man.

        I'd let him believe he still had me.

        And just when he relaxes and lets his guard down, when he thinks he still has me wrapped around his disgusting fingers. I'd rip the mask off and hurt him the way he hurt me, embarrass him the way he had embarrassed me.

        Let's see if that apology still tastes the same when it's laced with public shame.

        I sat straighter, smoothed my hair back like a woman with purpose.

        The car pulled into our driveway.

        And there he was.

        Waiting by the door like a sad puppy who'd chewed through his leash and knew the vet was coming.

        I wasn't leaving my house. He would be the one to leave.

        I stepped out of the car on shaking legs, wiping my face quickly with my sleeves. I didn't want him to see me broken.

        "Zoe," he breathed. "Thank God. I-I didn't know where you were. I called, I texted-I was losing my mind-"

        I kept walking. Past him and straight to the door.

        He trailed behind me like a shadow.

        "Zoe, please. I'm sorry. I was drunk, I didn't even know what I was doing. Madison came onto me. It wasn't supposed to happen-she kept saying you didn't love me anymore, and I-God, I messed up."

        I didn't respond. I didn't even look at him. My key jammed slightly in the lock. I forced it in and pushed the door open.

        Inside, it felt like the air itself had turned stale and cold. It smelled like a cheating fiancé and a backstabbing friend. 

        The home I built had turned into a battlefield overnight.

        I dropped my bag on the floor and went straight to the fridge. My throat was dry, my mouth tasted like tequila and something else I couldn't name.

        I opened the fridge, grabbed the water bottle, and poured it into a glass with hands that still trembled. I needed to feel something steady.

        Something that didn't lie or sleep with my best friend.

        Behind me, Liam was still talking. Still begging.

        "I love you, Zoe. I swear to God, I love you. Please... please don't give up on us. I'll do anything. I'll block her. I'll go to therapy. I'll never touch a drop of alcohol again. I'll-"

        I turned around slowly, glass in hand.

        His eyes were red. He looked like he hadn't slept. He looked like hell.

        Good.

        "I forgive you," I said quietly with a slow, practiced fake smile.

        His shoulders sagged in relief, but just like he realised what I had said, he blinked. "Wait, you do?"

        "Yes, Liam. I blame Madison. I always knew she wanted you." I added, my voice sickly sweet. "She came onto you, right? You were drunk, so she seduced you. So really, this is her fault. Right?"

        He nodded eagerly. "Yes-yes. Exactly. She manipulated everything." 

        Fool.

        I smiled bitterly, taking a long sip of water. "Of course she did. I should have caught her off the moment I noticed her always ogling you."

         "Yes, Zo. She wasn't to be trusted. She has always been jealous of you," he rushed out in an attempt to placate me, but all it ended up doing was make him look foolish. 

        "It's okay. Now I know better. Let's just move on."I flashed him that smile again.

        But inside, something in me snapped into place as my heart pounded in my chest, the need for revenge growing hotter.

        I would stay. For now.

        And when the time came?

        I would break him the way he broke me.

        Because one thing was certain.

        I wasn't just going to move on.

        I was going to make him wish he had moved on instead of asking for forgiveness.