“Hey, this is Leo, leave me a message,” my boyfriend’s voice says back to me through his voice mail. I’ve been waiting for him for the last thirty minutes, and I don’t know how much longer I can sit here by myself.

Every time I look around, it’s as if everyone is staring at me. The place is crowded, but it wouldn’t be so bad if I weren’t the only person sitting all alone in this fancy ass restaurant.

Nervously, I look down at my menu, pretending I’m trying to decide what to order when really, I already know. I’m just trying to hide the fact that I’m mortified to be sitting alone.

Where are you, Leo?

God, I hope he’s okay. It isn’t like him to blow me off. When we talked about meeting for lunch, he seemed excited. This is his favorite place to eat, and with his recent promotion at work, he wanted to come here to celebrate.

My anxiety peaks, sending my mind spinning with a number of worst-case scenarios. Something has to be wrong; he couldn’t forget. So, I call his office. The phone rings a couple of times before the receptionist answers.

“Don’s Autoworld, how may I direct your call?”

“Hey, Shira, it’s Fallon, I’m sorry to bother you, but is Leo available?”

“Hey, honey. Let me check.”

“Thanks,” I tell her, and the line clicks, sending me over to the annoying hold music the dealership uses. Shira is such a sweetie and one of the few girls that have worked with Leo I’ve liked.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything while you wait?” the waiter asks me stopping at the table.

“No, thank you. He’ll be here any minute, and then I’ll order.” The guy walks off, giving me a pitiful smile.

“Fallon, it looks like he’s out to lunch.”

“Great. Did he just leave?”

“Yup.”

“Thank you.”

We hang up, and I consider ordering for the both of us, knowing when he gets here it’ll save us time. But today, I’ve got all the time in the world. It’s one of my two days off for working this weekend. My phone beeps and I glance at the screen.

Leo: I’ve only got an hour; I want you naked in my bed!

Leo’s words make my cheeks flush. I glance around the restaurant, wondering if anyone else can sense that I’m turned on. Nope, they are all still staring at me with pity. Pressing my thighs together, I swallow and try to decide how to respond. Leo hasn’t texted me like this before, not that I’m complaining. I’m . . . I’m just overexcited, I guess. That excitement grows a bit more when my phone beeps again.

Leo: Now!

Without a second thought, I hop out of my chair like it’s on fire, rummage through my purse for any cash I have, and toss it on the table to cover the tea I ordered. Then I toss more down to cover my guilt for wasting the waiter’s time and head to the door.

Who knew a spur-of-the-moment text could turn me on so much? I hadn’t, and it’s a little embarrassing and a whole lot exciting. I actually have to force myself to walk to my car instead of run.

I put the pedal down and drive as fast and safe as possible to get to him. The traffic is light this time of day, so I make it back to our condo in record time. I slam the breaks so hard my tires squeal, cut the engine, and climb out of the car. Before I reach the door, I pull the tie from my long light brown hair and run my fingers through it. Leo loves my hair down, messy and all.

I’m so wet that my panties are drenched, but knowing Leo, he’ll have them off me in half a second.

Taking in a deep breath, I open the door and look around, but I don’t see him. There are moans coming from upstairs, and I know that means one thing—he’s watching a porno and waiting for me. Stripping naked, I leave all my clothes by the door and run my fingers through my hair one last time as I head up the stairs. The woman on the porn is really loud, and I have to admit, I like the way it makes my heart beat a little faster.

I step into the doorway, but the sight in front of me stops me cold. I grip on to the doorframe to try to steady myself, everything inside of me shakes, and I fear I’ll collapse. My breathing is unstable.

Fuck. Don’t faint.

My eyes are wide as I watch in disbelief.

There is no porno; the noises are from another woman in my bed. With my boyfriend. Leo has his face smashed against her pussy. Her fingers are knotted into his hair—just like I do, and I don’t know what to do. My voice has been stripped from me. She arches as his hands roam all over her body, and I . . . I can’t fathom this is what I’m really seeing.

How is this my reality again? Then she says, “Fuck me, Leo,” and I watch, horrified as he pulls away from her, grabs his dick, and lines it up with her pussy. He’s not even wearing a condom.

I scream, “No!” before he can slam himself into her. My throat burns and my ears ring from that one single word.

They both look over at me mortified. “What the fuck?” the woman yells and clambers toward the headboard, my headboard, pulling the comforter over her body. The comforter that Leo and I picked out together. That he told me he liked because it was the color of my eyes.

“Shiiiiiiiiiiit,” he mutters under his breath, but I hear exactly what he says.

“Yeah, ‘shiiiiiit’ is right. What the fuck are you doing?”

“It’s not what you think—”

I shake my head and storm off, realizing that I’m naked, which sends my embarrassment through the roof. It’s exactly what I think. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I should’ve known better. I’m so pissed at myself. I should’ve left him so long ago.

“Baby, please,” he begs as he follows me without bothering to get dressed first. I pull my shirt over my head, and he reaches for me.

“Don’t fucking touch me, motherfucker!” I snarl, slapping his hand away. His filthy tainted hand.

“Come on, Fallon, don’t leave. I love you, baby.”

I pull my pants on, gather my shoes, bra, and panties, shoving them into my bag and ignore him as I fight the urge to kick the shit out of him. It’s the least he deserves.

“I . . . I didn’t mean to.”

“Yes you did! You texted me instead of her, you dumbass!”

The look of utter confusion across his face as he puts two and two together pisses me off even more. “How the fuck do you accidently end up with another woman in our bed, anyway?” Rage courses through my veins, my head feels as if it’s going to explode, and I want to beat the shit out of him more than I’ve ever wanted to do anything in all my life.

“I got carried away, baby.” He tries to touch me again, and this time I push him backward.

“Yeah, you did, just like the last time. Fuck you, Leo, fuck you!” I scream and turn away from him, storming out of the condo and toward my car. With every step I take, I imagine myself beating him with the heel of my shoe, which is exceptionally pointy.

He did this to me before about a year ago and swore it was the worst mistake of his life. He said he had been drunk when it happened and begged me to forgive him. I didn’t want to, but then he dropped to his knees and promised to make it his life’s mission to make me happy.

I forgave him like an idiot, and it took me so long to get past that pain and heartache, to trust him again, but I did, and now I’m well aware it was the greatest mistake of my life.