Page 2 of His Nephew's Ex
The bedroom door stands open, and through it, I see movement on my white sheets. My heart stops, then starts again at double speed. Flavio’s dark hair is unmistakable against my pillowcases, his lean body moving in a rhythm that should have been ours tonight. But the legs wrapped around his waist aren’t mine. The nails raking down his chest aren’t mine. The voice crying out his name like a prayer isn’t mine.
“Oh, yes, Flavio.” The voice is breathless, familiar, yet cannot possibly be hers. “Right there, don’t stop.” She cries again.
Oh fuck, it’s definitely Astrid.
My best friend since college. The woman who helped me pick out the lingerie for this very occasion. The woman who listened to me agonize over whether tonight was the right night, who assured me that Flavio would be honored by my gift, who hugged me goodbye just hours ago with excitement shining in her blue eyes.
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” Flavio groans, his voice thick with pleasure I’ve never given him. “So much better than—”
“Better than little Miss Virgin?” Astrid’s laugh is cruel, cutting through my chest like a blade. “I still can’t believe she’s actually saving herself for you. What is this, the nineteenth century?”
The champagne bottle slips from my numb fingers.
Crystal explodes against hardwood, the sound echoing through my apartment like a gunshot. Dom Pérignon pools at my feet in apuddle of glass shards and shattered dreams, the bubbles fizzing out like my hopes for tonight.
The sounds from the bedroom stop instantly.
“What the hell was that?” Flavio’s voice questions, sharp and alert now.
I stand frozen in my hallway, the black dress and red lace I have planned for this night suddenly feeling like a costume for a play I was never meant to star in. My feet are surrounded by crystal fragments, but the pain I should feel doesn’t register. Nothing registers except the absolute silence coming from my bedroom now, and the weight of two sets of eyes I can feel staring at me even though I can’t see them yet.
“Loriana?” Astrid’s voice shakes. “Is that you?”
I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. What do you say when you catch your boyfriend and your best friend together in your own bed? What words exist for this level of betrayal?
So, Flavio was planning to fuck me and my best friend on the same bed within just a few hours of each other?
They scramble from the bed like two rats. The rustling of sheets and their frantic movements make it feel as if I am watching a movie. Within the blink of an eye, Flavio is standing before me, hastily wrapping my towel around his waist to conceal his now limp dick. His dark eyes wide with something that might either be shock or calculation or both. Behind him, I catch a glimpse ofAstrid clutching my sheets to her chest, her blonde hair wild, her face flushed with guilt and something else.
Fear.
“Bambina,” Flavio starts, his voice taking on that smooth tone I used to find charming. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
I stare at him, this man I thought I knew, this man I was ready to give everything to. The champagne continues to fizz at my feet, each bubble that pops sounding like a small death.
“Then what,” I ask, my voice surprisingly steady, “does it look like?”
2
Loriana
The champagne fizzes and pops at my feet like dying fireworks, each bubble bursting with the finality of dreams destroyed. Flavio stands there wrapped in my Egyptian cotton towel, the one I bought specifically for tonight, his dark eyes already calculating damage control. Behind him, Astrid clutches my white sheets to her chest like they might protect her from the reckoning she knows is coming.
“Well?” I cross my arms over my chest, the movement sharp enough to cut glass. “I’m waiting for this miraculous explanation of how my boyfriend fucking my best friend in my bed isn’t exactly what it looks like.”
Flavio’s jaw tightens at my language. Good. Let him be uncomfortable. Let him squirm.
“Bambina, you’re being dramatic. It was just—”
“Don’t.” The word cracks through the air like a whip. “Don’t you dare call me that. Not after what I just witnessed.”
He takes a step toward me, glass crunching under his bare feet, but he doesn’t even flinch. The man who claimed to love my vulnerability, my innocence, doesn’t feel the pain of walking through the shattered remains of my trust.
“Loriana, listen to me.” His voice drops to that smooth, practiced tone that used to make my knees weak. Now it just makes me sick. “This meant nothing. She threw herself at me, and I was drunk, and—”
“And what? Your dick accidentally fell into her waiting pussy?” I laugh, the sound hollow and bitter. “How clumsy of you.”
Astrid finally finds her voice from behind him. “Lori, I can explain—”
