21. Venetia
Flashback
Age 15
I think I’m in love with Zayden. It’s been a few months since we met, and with each passing day, my feelings for him deepen, transforming me into someone I never thought I’d become. I can’t stop thinking about him. I find myself constantly imagining new ways to make him happy, to nurture his love for me.
And I’m certain he feels the same way about me. When we meet, a big smile lights up his face, his expression softens, and his voice changes as he begins to talk to me.
How could that not be love?
These past months have been perfect, beyond anything I ever imagined. I never thought someone could care for me the way he does. It didn’t take long for him to completely consume my thoughts. The dates he planned, the attention he’s given, and all the sweet things he’s said… they’ve made my heart melt for him.
I’m not ashamed to admit how obsessed I am with him. It’s funny how my mother’s words make sense now—she always warned me that I’d forget about my studies and career plans once I fell in love. Nothing else seems to matter when I’m with him. One smile, one laugh, one touch of his lips on mine—it’s all it takes to make me forget the world.
For the first time, I feel truly happy. It’s as if every responsibility I once carried has disappeared, and I can finally just follow my heart.
Life has never felt so good.
This morning, Zayden called and promised me a surprise. No matter how many times I tried to get him to spill the details, he insisted I wait.
I’m nervous. My hands won’t stop shaking, and I can’t control the smiles that keep flickering across my face. I trust him with my life. I know he’d never hurt me, and whatever he’s planned will only make me the happiest person in the world.
But I’m excited in a way that scares me. It’s rare for anyone to go to such lengths to arrange a surprise for me. A small part of me feels uncomfortable and anxious, as if I don’t deserve whatever he’s prepared, the doubt gnawing at my mind like a parasite. I can’t shake off that thought, but all I can do is wait and hope it fades the moment I see what he’s done. He always tells me how perfect I am and how I deserve the best.
And I know tonight will be special.
“I think I’m about to pass out,” I squeak, my voice filled with happiness as Zayden leads me across the room. He grips my trembling hands while we walk, guiding me carefully. I’m completely blindfolded, unable to see anything through the thick fabric, no matter how hard I try. “Oh, God ? —”
“Do you trust me, baby?” he asks, his voice suddenly close to my ear. The word ‘baby’ sends a storm of butterflies through my stomach. Every time he says it, it feels like the first time.
“Yes,” I blurt out without hesitation. Because I do. I trust him.
He hums in approval, and I lick my dry lips, anticipation bubbling within me. The sound of a door clicking shut halts us after what feels like an eternity of walking, and I can’t help but laugh. I’m feeling so happy because he’s done it—whatever it is—for me. That thought alone makes me giddy.
When the blindfold falls from my eyes, I don’t open them right away. For a moment, I let myself relish the suspense, feel the warmth climbing my spine, and bask in the excitement intensifying around me.
Zayden waits patiently, and when I finally pry my eyes open, my breath catches in my throat. We’re in his bedroom, standing before a large king-sized bed draped in silky black sheets. The room is bathed in the soft glow of candles, their scent a blend of warm wax and caramel.
All set for me.
“Surprise, baby,” he whispers, placing a tender kiss on my cheek. His arms wrap around my waist, strong and steady. “It’s about time, don’t you think?”
I stay silent, unable to form a single word. My mind spins in circles, one thought overpowering the next. I know what he wants from me—or at least I think I do. It can’t be anything else, can it?
My mom and I had talked about this inevitable moment many times. Well, mostly she talked while I sat there, overwhelmed by embarrassment, staring at my hands and picking at the skin around my nails.
“Hey,” Zayden calls out softly, his grip tightening around me when I don’t respond. “You scared, baby?”
Am I scared? I knew this moment would come eventually. Every couple gets intimate at some point, right? Mom always said it’s the foundation of a lasting relationship. I’ve heard it from her, from my peers, and seen it in videos—I’m not clueless. I even imagined Zayden doing the things I’ve done to myself. I should be ready.
But I can’t speak. I can’t move.
Why can’t I move?
“I…” My voice falters, revealing my anxiety. “Don’t you think it’s a bit early for this?”
He stills, and I instantly regret it. I know I’m messing everything up. Most girls don’t get the kind of thoughtfulness I’m receiving. Their first times are rushed, awkward, and on dirty sheets. Zayden went above and beyond for me, and here I am, acting like a spoiled brat, devaluing everything he’s done.
“Oh, come on, Venetia,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down my neck. The kisses send a wave of heat through my body, making my head spin and my knees go weak from the sensations. “It’s the right time. We’ve been together for months. Other couples do this way earlier.”
“I just—” I’m cut off when his teeth sink into my skin. The burn spreads from the spot, clouding my vision with its intensity.
Without hesitation, his hands reach for the waistband of my jeans, swiftly unzipping and sliding them down. I wish he’d give me a second to process, but he’s already moving on, tugging my shirt over my head and tossing it to the floor.
“Zayden,” I mutter, but he silences me with a kiss, his lips firm against mine. It’s like he’s not fully present, driven by an invisible, primal force.
I try to push away the anxiety building inside me, to let go and give in to the moment. But I can’t. My thoughts press down on me like a suffocating weight I can’t get rid of. We kiss, and I can’t even bring myself to close my eyes. My hands move on their own, reaching for his, trying to push him away, though I don’t even know why.
Not that he notices. In a blur, he lifts me up, and, before I realize it, I’m on the bed with him hovering above me.
“Zayden, I’m not sure,” I say, my voice quivering with a rising sense of despair. I loathe the way I sound—so uncertain, so ungrateful. I hate myself for ruining everything, but I can’t ignore the fear twisting inside me.
I’m only fifteen. I know most girls my age might be ready for this, but I’m not. I feel like a mistake, a broken piece of something everyone else has figured out, and I don’t know how to fix it.
“Just relax,” he coos, pulling away from the kiss for a brief moment. His breath is warm, but it only heightens the panic simmering under my skin.
The rustling of his clothes jolts me into action, and without even processing it, I slap his chest, trying to pry him off me. “Zayden, please, get off,” I plead. “I need a moment. Just give me a moment.”
He grabs my hips, and in one, rigid movement, jerks me down. My bare back rubs across the sheets, sending a trail of burning pain across my spine. “I promise, you’ll love this. Just trust me, baby.”
“Zayden.” A sob breaks from my throat, his name an echo in my psyche. “I’m begging you ? —”
“You’re so beautiful, Venetia,” he cuts in, his hand cupping the side of my face as he looks down at me, lust burning in his eyes. “Have I told you that before?”
I manage to nod. “Yeah.”
“I will never get tired of telling you this,” he adds, plastering a kiss on my cheek, the side of my nose, and between my brows. It feels like he’s trying to put a patch onto a wound that needs stitches. “So beautiful. Every inch of your body. Do you realize how beautiful you are?”
Warmth spreads through my lower stomach as I mumble a soft, “Yes,” allowing the words to blend with the positive sensations, hoping they will consume my thoughts. I truly feel beautiful when he keeps reminding me of it.
“I’ll make you feel good. I promise.”
That’s the last thing he says before he plunges into me. A violent shriek slides past my lips when every inch of my body ignites with fire. I’m not wet enough to ease the intrusion, and it feels like he’s splitting me in half. My hands travel to his shoulders, nails sinking into his skin as I seek some sort of support. He eases out, and I inhale a deep breath, trying to blink off the black spots that dance across my vision, blurring the line between reality and fantasy.
“Relax, Venetia,” he grumbles. He parts my legs wider, and I’m so consumed by the aftershocks that I can’t react, allowing him to do whatever he wants. “This won’t work if you don’t fucking relax.”
Shame and guilt rise within me, creating a tight knot in my throat. Even after I pushed aside my needs and forced myself to enjoy this, I still feel like I’m messing everything up.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out weakly, and then, it happens again. Only this time, pain immediately spreads like wildfire, stealing my vision, hearing, and breath. The only thing I feel becomes the agony that rips me apart, both mentally and physically.
It hurts.
It hurts so much.
Something wet trickles down my legs and my eyes, and it feels like he’s pushing dozens of knives inside me. I’m trying, really trying to relax, but it doesn’t work. The muscles of my lower stomach are tight, the pressure inevitable. My legs keep closing back no matter how many times he forces them apart.
“Slow down,” I mumble, pulling him closer by his shoulders so he will notice my struggle. “Just slow down a little.”
“No, this is good,” he moans, throwing his head back, the pleasure etched onto his face. “Fuck, you’re so tight. So perfect for me.”
Minutes pass by, and finally, after all the struggle, the pain numbs my body to the point it feels like I cease to exist. My form keeps jerking up and down, pulling the sheets along with it. The ringing consumes my ears, and I slip into another world, feeling nothing.
Feeling everything.
When after what feels like years Zayden rolls away from me, violent tremors course through every fiber of my body. Every inch of my skin aches, and as I muster what little resolve I have left, I glance down, my sobs intensifying in my throat.
I didn’t even realize he was leaving marks all across me.
“Oh, baby.” He inches closer to me, his touch cold against the heat radiating from him. I can’t tell if that makes sense—nothing I think about right now feels coherent. “First time usually hurts like this. It’s okay.”
I cry harder when he wraps his arm around me, pressing me closer to his body. I cry because I feel used, and also because I turned our first time into a disaster. I didn’t even kiss him back. The moment he started touching me, I couldn’t do anything, and I don’t know why.
I failed yet again.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper in his chest. He deserves someone more confident and more skilled. Someone better than me. “I’m so sorry I ruined this.”
He laughs, his hands cupping my face and turning me to him. “You look so funny right now with that red face of yours,” he says, his thumbs wiping off the tears that won’t stop streaming down my cheeks. “Like a pouty little tomato.”
Shame sweeps through me like never before, and I try to turn away from him, but he tightens his grip on me. “Stop feeling ashamed. You did okay. Next time will be better.”
That ‘okay’ feels more painful than everything he just made me feel. An ache grips my chest as he basically confirms that I ruined everything.
“I don’t know if I can handle this again,” I say, feeling as if it’s already beyond repair, and there’s nothing I can do to make it worse. “I’m sorry.”
He kisses my forehead. “Silly. Of course you can. I have an idea for you.”
Zayden releases me, and as he pulls away, I take a deep breath, only now aware of how suffocating his presence has been.
I watch as he searches through the nightstand before pulling out a small bottle of pills. “Have you ever tried these?” he asks, shaking the bottle for emphasis.
I swallow hard. “I—Drugs? No, I haven’t.”
He turns back to me, and I hold my breath, trying to avoid the blend of scents surrounding us—a cocktail of sweat and something metallic. “I don’t want you to become an addict or anything,” he begins, “but these are less likely to hook you. They can help you relax, so it won’t feel so painful for you. What do you think?”
Hope sparks inside me as I ponder the offer. I’d do anything to finally let my anxious mind and body relax so I could give him what he wants like a normal woman, and maybe even enjoy the experience. “It sounds good. I’m just scared if ? —”
He uncaps the bottle and spills a few small white pills into his palm. They’re so tiny that I can swallow them without water. “We can try again,” he suggests, extending the pills toward me.
I reassure myself that I won’t get addicted. If there was any risk, Zayden wouldn’t offer them to me. I know he wouldn’t—he loves me and truly wants to help me feel better.
So I place them on my tongue, tilt my head back, and swallow them all at once. Slowly, the shame eases its grip on me, and my muscles begin to relax. My eyelids grow heavy, and I close my eyes.
The looming shadow of him is the last thing I see before the void envelops me completely.