AVA

I discovered a pair of women’s underwear in the pocket of my boyfriend Blake’s suit. When I confronted him about it, he suggested opening our relationship. I was stunned—this was something I had never even considered before.

Just hours earlier—

We were at the wedding of Blake’s father and his second wife, Isabella.

At the altar, Isabella was preparing to toss her bouquet. A crowd of eager women had gathered behind me, buzzing with excitement and anticipation to catch it. But then, to my shock, she turned, bouquet in hand, and walked toward me with a smile.

A part of me froze in panic. I hadn’t expected this at all, and I knew exactly what the bouquet symbolized. My eyes darted to Blake, who stood beside me, his expression soft and adoring, showing no signs of surprise.

“Ava, darling,” Isabella said, extending the bouquet of white roses and lilies toward me. “I want you to have this. You’re already like family to us, and nothing would make me happier than sharing this moment with you.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I accepted the bouquet. My gaze flicked back to Blake, who tightened his hold on my arm.

“Thank you, Isabella. This means so much,” I said sincerely, pulling her into a hug.

Blake leaned down, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “Looks like I need to dash to the nearest jewelry store and get you a ring before someone else beats me to it.” He winked, his tone teasing yet tender.

“Shut up,” I slapped him playfully.

It was actually funny because, in eight years of being together, Blake and I never rushed towards marriage. We always said it would happen when the time was right. But standing here with Isabella's bouquet in my hands, things started to feel different. It was my first time catching….I mean, receiving a bride's bouquet. So, this felt like a good promise of things to come.

“My feet are killing me,” I told Blake some minutes later.

He turned to me immediately, “Want to head upstairs already?” he asked, his hand finding the small of my back.

I hesitated, glancing around at the still-bustling reception. “But the party's not over. What if Isabella needs help with something?”

Blake guided me toward the staircase.

“Sweetheart, there are literally a hundred workers here right now. I don’t think anyone would even mind it if we slip away. I'll shoot dad a quick text saying you needed some rest.”

I relented and hooked my arm through his as we made our way up the staircase. Several guests smiled and nodded at us as we passed. A few also stopped to congratulate me on catching the bouquet, whilst adding some reading remarks. When we entered our room, I placed Isabella's bouquet on the table.

“I should really get a vase for these,” I mused, running my fingers along the petals.

Blake came up behind me and tangled his arms around my waist, kissing my neck.

“Oh,” I laughed, tilting my head to give him better access, “so this is why you were so eager to get me upstairs?”

His lips curved into a smile against my skin. “Couldn't you tell?” he murmured, then turned me around to face him.

He kissed me harder and I found myself leaning back against the vanity for support. His hands were everywhere, and the temperature in the room seemed to rise by several degrees.

“Help me take my shoes off,” I breathed between his kisses.

He pulled back with a grin.

“Sure, baby.”

Blake then went on one knee in front of me. He lifted my foot to unfasten the straps of my heels one by one. While he did this, he brushed his lips against my ankle and went higher up my calf, making me grab his shoulder for balance.

I turned slightly to check myself in the mirror, seeing how slightly smudged my lipstick was.

“I probably shouldn't take my makeup off yet. I might need to go back downstairs later.”

Blake stood up again and pressed himself against my back as he met my eyes in the mirror, whispering in my ear.

“Trust me, all that makeup will be gone from your face anyway by the time we're done.” I pushed him away playfully.

He laughed, already loosening his tie. “I'm going to hop in the shower,” he announced. I then watched him take his clothes off and dash into the bathroom.

I started removing my jewelry. Gosh, that feeling of freedom. My neck was stiff from holding my head up all day, and I flipped my hair to one side, then the other, massaging my scalp with my fingers before letting the strands fall back down. I also took off my dress, which had been constricting me for hours. Tossing my dress on one arm, I also picked up Blake’s clothes on the floor.

I then noticed something falling out from inside his jacket.

An instant crease came on my forehead as I stared at the piece of fabric on the floor. My brain refused to process what I was seeing. Using just the tip of my thumb and index finger, I picked it up.

A black lace thong dangled in front of my face.

“What the fucking hell?” I cursed silently under my breath. It had familiar stains on them, and my face was flooded with heat. Not one that came from embarrassment or joy, but one of rage that was boiling in my gut.

Why was a woman’s underwear in my boyfriend’s pocket? My teeth clenched hard and I rushed angrily towards the bathroom door. But then I stopped.

Eight years. Eight fucking years. No way Blake would do what I was suspecting. Was I really about to throw all those years away over what could be a misunderstanding? My chest felt tight, but I forced myself to take deep breaths. This was Blake we were talking about. Cheating? That was absurd. Swallowing down my anger, I tucked the thong back into his jacket pocket and hung his clothes in the closet.

I saw his phone on the nightstand and immediately went to take it, unlocking it and going to his messages. Then I heard the sound of the shower stop. I quickly dropped the phone back in its place, diving under the covers.

My heart was pounding so hard and loud in my ears. ‘Ava, just calm the hell down’ I continued to tell myself as I shut my eyes and pretended to be asleep

I could hear Blake moving around the room. He stopped near the bed, and I felt him hovering over me like a shadow.

“Ava?” he called softly, “Sleeping already?”

I kept my breathing deep and even, fighting the urge to flinch, until he stepped away. And then I heard his phone buzz.

“Yeah... terrace,” he whispered to someone.

As soon as I heard the door shut, I cracked one eye open to confirm he was gone before sitting up. The terrace? Who was he going to meet on the terrace? As far as I heard, this same terrace had been roped off for weeks due to ongoing construction. Something wasn't adding up.

I slipped out of bed and grabbed a navy cocktail dress from my suitcase, just so I would look presentable enough if I ran into any guests. I ran a brush through my hair quickly before rushing out.

When I reached the terrace, the entrance door was ajar so I peeked through. And what I saw immediately had my head spinning. There was Blake, his hands tangled in another woman's hair, kissing her with a passion I thought was reserved only for me.

And the lady was none other than his married ex girlfriend, Chloe! The same Chloe who'd left him when his family went bankrupt, while I picked up the remaining pieces of his life? My knees nearly gave out, and I had to lean against the wall to stay upright. A cold numbness spread through my chest, replacing the burning anger from before. How could Blake even do this to me?

When I met Blake at Harvard eight years ago, I was the rich girl who had everything, while he was the brilliant scholarship student with nothing but debt to his family’s name. His father's bankruptcy had left them scraping by, but Blake never let it dim his ambition. When my parents died in that terrible car accident, he was my rock. He helped me through the grief and the complicated business matters that followed. I gave him everything; my trust, my love, my family's insurance payout to clear his family's debts and I even stepped back from running my father's company so Blake would take control.

All these years, I thought we were building something together….

“I can't actually believe my eyes right now,” I scoffed.

Both of them froze when I walked in, but I didn’t see any hint of shock in their eyes.

“So this is what you've been doing?” I shook my head at Blake.

“I can't believe I've been making a joke of myself all along. Eight years of fucking lies! You've been fucking your ex this whole time, huh?!”

Chloe stepped forward, “Calm the fuck down—"

“And you keep your slutty mouth shut when I'm talking!" I snapped at her.

“Who do you think you're talking to?” Chloe lunged at me but Blake caught her arm.

“Hey, hey,” he said softly to her before turning to me, and taking a step in my direction.

“Don't even think of coming near me,” I spat, backing away.

“Fuck off.”

I turned and walked away, my legs somehow carrying me despite feeling like they might give out at any moment. I could hear his footsteps behind me.

“Ava!”

His hand caught my arm, and I yanked it away violently.

“Stay away from me!”

My voice was loud enough for a few guests in the hallway to turn their heads. Before I could make another scene, Blake grabbed my arm again, harder this time, and pulled me into an empty room.

“Listen to me,” he said, as I struggled against his grip.

“Oh, you want to explain yourself?” I laughed bitterly. “Fucking go ahead!”

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing like I was being unreasonable.

“I never meant for you to find out like this.”

My eyebrows twitched. There was rage building inside me.

“You know, stuff like this happens.”

“What?”

“Come on, it's no big deal. You're no stranger to the concept of open relationships, are you? Couples do it all the time. We could too. Doesn't mean a damn thing.” He reached for my hand. “Doesn't change my love for you.”

An apology from him would have been pointless—not that it mattered anymore— but I'd at least expected to hear one from him.

“You disgust me,” I whispered.

“Hey…” He reached for me again.

“Don't you even dare,” I snarled.

Blake came closer to me, staring me down with a condensing smirk. “You know, you’re luckier than Chloe. I actually have a thing for you, and I’ll make you my wife soon enough so don’t fuss like a child now.”

My hands had been twitching the whole time he spoke, but shutting that disgusting mouth of his was the first thing I wanted to do.

I slapped him hard, cursing, “Asshole,” before rushing out of there.