You never expected it to end like that. Standing in front of your boyfriend, your voice shaking, eyes burning. “I saw you with her last night,” you had said. “Don’t lie to me—I saw everything.” And he didn’t. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, almost like it didn’t even matter. “She’s… she’s not just some girl. I’ve been with her for five months.” Your world shattered with those words. You walked out, heartbroken, mascara-streaked tears smudged down your cheeks.

Later that night, the club swallowed you whole. Music thumping, lights spinning, alcohol burning down your throat. You didn’t care anymore. Not when a stranger’s touch felt warmer than your boyfriend’s lies. You let go.

And when his lips met yours… you didn’t stop.

Now, morning creeps in, sunlight slipping between the curtains. You blink, groggy, head pounding. Your body aches, your throat dry—but it’s the warmth beside you that makes your blood run cold.

You’re naked… under unfamiliar sheets. You turn your head slowly and see him. Your ex-boyfriend’s stepfather. Panic surges through you. You clutch the blanket to your chest and begin to move, desperate to slip out before he wakes up. But then his voice stops you cold.

“Didn’t think you’d run out on me without a good morning, did you?”

You freeze mid-movement, lips parted in shock.“What… what the hell did we do?” you whisper, eyes wide.

He stretches, his muscles flexing under the sheets, eyes half-lidded as he looks at you. “Relax,” he says, voice rough.

“It’s not like we didn’t enjoy ourselves.”

“I… I was drunk,” you stammer, not meeting his eyes. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

He hums lazily. “Didn’t sound like you thought that last night.”

You glare at him, cheeks burning. “This is wrong. You’re—”

“—your ex’s stepfather. Yeah, I know.”

he finishes, lips curling.

You wrap the blanket tighter and turn away. He doesn’t stop you. But his voice follows, low and unreadable:

“Running away won’t undo it, princesa.”