Chapter 26
A WEEK LATER
The rain is coming down in heavy sheets, drenching everything in sight. Dylan and I rush inside, soaked from head to toe. We’ve just returned from the mall, where I finally replaced my dead phone. New device. New number. Clean slate.
Before my old phone gave out, I managed to speak with my parents. Apparently, Abigail told them I had a sudden scholarship emergency that required me to return to Paris. I didn’t correct the lie. I didn’t have the strength. They’re in their sixties; they don’t need the burden of this mess.
Dylan and I have been… dating, sort of. Over the past week, there’s been dinner, laughter, and lingering kisses.
Nothing I couldn’t take back. And even though he’s sweet, safe, and knows me better than anyone, something still doesn’t sit right.
There’s an emptiness when I’m with him. A hollowness I try to ignore.
Because with Calvin, everything was fire. The feeling that I wasn’t just wanted, I was his. Stop that, Blair; he was never yours.
I’m trying to move on. Trying to be okay.
“Oh my God, I’m soaked,” I set our bags on the counter, dragging my wet sleeves across my arms.
Dylan steps closer, his voice low and teasing. “Yeah, you are.”
I laugh; the flirtation is easy and Familiar. We haven’t had sex since I got back, but the idea has been floating in the air between us. He’s been patient. Maybe that’s exactly what I need.
“So wet,” I reply with a grin, biting my lip.
He pulls me toward him and leans in. His lips hover over mine, but I whisper against them, “Wait, let me plug in my new phone first.”
“I’ll wait for you in your room,” he says, and I nod, trying to steady my thoughts. I plug in my phone and take a breath. I can do this. This is normal. This is safe. Don’t think about Calvin. Don’t think about the way he looked at you. Don’t think about the lies he told you.
But when I step into my bedroom and see Dylan lying there, completely naked and waiting for me, something twists in my stomach. Sadness. I try to ignore it. I undress slowly, leaving on my underwear and bra, and crawl onto the bed.
“You’re so sexy,” he whispers as I straddle him.
We kiss. I let myself get lost in the rhythm of his hands, the warmth of his skin.
I reach for him, stroke him up and down.
He moans against my lips, causing a mischievous smile to grace my face.
Breaking free from his kiss, I trail wet kisses down his body, my lips tracing a path to my ultimate destination: his pulsing cock.
I place a gentle kiss on the tip, meeting his gaze, his breath growing heavier.
I tease him for a bit, then I put his cock in my mouth, swallowing him whole.
“Fuck, Blair,” I hear him say. I wrap my lips around him and start sucking him off, bobbing my head up and down, feeling him grow in my mouth.
After a few more seconds of that, I pull him out with a pop.
I spit on my fingers to lubricate my pussy before taking a condom and wrapping it around his dick before easing myself down.
“Fuck,” Dylan groans as I sink onto him, taking all of him in. I guide his hand to my neck, placing it there, silently asking him to squeeze. At first, his grip is hesitant, almost too gentle.
“Harder,” I whisper, breathless, rocking against him. When he doesn’t tighten his hold, I say it again, louder this time. “Harder.”
His hand closes tighter around my throat, and I feel it, finally, that edge of danger I crave. I want more. I need more. My body moves faster, chasing something I know isn’t there. I reach for sensation, not satisfaction. I don’t want tenderness. I want to disappear.
“Bite my nipple,” I say, and he does. I close my eyes, and that’s when Calvin rushes in.
The memory of his mouth, his teeth, the sound of his breath in my ear.
“Yes, please,” I cry, the words slipping out in a voice that isn’t meant for Dylan.
I ride him harder, desperately. Chasing pain. Chasing numbness. Chasing anything that will make me forget.
“Fuck, B, you’re going to make me come,” Dylan warns, voice strained. I don’t slow down. I’m not close. I’m not even in my own body anymore.
“Don’t you dare,” I bite out.
“Okay, slow down,” he pleads, trying to keep up. But I don’t listen. I ride him harder, faster, eyes shut tight.
“Fuck, fuck…” he gasps, and then I feel it. His hands leave my neck and clamp down on my hips, his body jerking beneath me.
“Fuck.” He groans again, and I know. He came.
I open my eyes and look at him, at the telltale expression on his face. “Damn, Blair… I’m sorry,” he says, guilt mixing with his breathlessness.
“It’s okay,” I reply softly, though disappointment weighs heavily in my chest.
“You want me to get you off?” he offers, reaching for me.
“No. It’s alright,” I say, already climbing off the bed. “I’ve got to set up my phone anyway.”
I grab my clothes and leave the room. I’m barely dressed as I walk to the kitchen, but I don’t care. My skin still feels too tight, my mind too loud. I just need something to focus on, anything.
I reach for my new phone, hoping that maybe powering it on will feel like turning a page, like starting over.
But when I hold the button, nothing happens.
“Fuck.” I slam my hand against the counter.
The rage floods my chest, hot and sharp.
It’s not just frustration. It’s heartbreak.
It’s humiliation. It’s the bitter sting of knowing the man I loved fucked me up from the inside out.
He did this.
Calvin ruined me.
He made sure no one else would ever compare. No one else could ever make me feel what he made me feel. And now I’m stuck, pretending this ache inside me can be filled with someone who doesn’t even come close.
I march back into the bedroom, where Dylan is still lying naked on the bed, relaxed, content, the used condom tossed carelessly to the side.
“Can I borrow your phone?” I ask tightly. “My new one won’t turn on. I need to call Apple.”
He looks up with that crooked smirk of his, still playful. “Sure. And if you give me five minutes, maybe we can go for round two?”
I force a smile. “Sure. I’d like that.”
He hands over his phone and I head back to the kitchen. I dial Apple. The automated voice starts talking, but I’m not listening. I scroll through his recent calls to distract myself. It’s mostly me. His mom. I smile at that. Sweet, dependable Dylan.
And then I see it.
Abigail.
My stomach sinks.
He called her. The same night I told him about Calvin. No. No, he wouldn’t have. I open his texts. And there it is.
Abigail
Thanks for telling me about them. I’m sending her back to Paris. Her flight leaves in a few hours. Please take care of her.
I’ll be there to pick her up. Do me a favor and don’t mention that I told you. She’ll hate me forever.
The phone slips in my hand. I press a hand over my mouth to muffle the sound that rips out of me. I feel sick.
The voice on the other end of the line keeps talking.
“Hallo? Hallo?”
“Wrong number,” I whisper and end the call.
I walk back to the bedroom in a daze and throw the phone at him. It lands beside his leg.
“What the fuck is this?”
He frowns, still naked, still too relaxed. “What were you doing going through my texts?”
“Don’t you dare flip this on me.” My voice is breaking. “Did you tell Abigail about Calvin and me?”
He doesn’t answer.
The silence confirms everything.
“Wow,” I laugh, but it’s hollow. “Really?”
“I was trying to protect you,” he says, sitting up now. “You were spiraling, Blair. I didn’t know what else to do. I was scared for you.”
“You betrayed me.”
“I told her because I care about you. I couldn’t watch you destroy yourself over him.”
“No. You don’t get to justify it.” My voice cracks. “You ruined everything. My relationship with my sister. My life. Me.”
“No. That was you. You’re the one who couldn’t keep your legs closed.”
The air leaves the room.
He freezes, regret flashing across his face. “Blair. Shit. I didn’t mean that. Please.”
I back away from him like he’s something venomous. “Get out.”
“Blair, wait. Just listen to me.”
“I said get out.” My hands are shaking. “You were my best friend. I trusted you. You don’t get to say it was for my good. That wasn’t your place!”
“I know,” he says. “I knew it the moment I did it. I regretted it every single day since.”
“Good. Then leave with that regret.” He stands there, still trying to find the words, but I won’t give him the chance. I walk to the door, open it, and wait.
He walks out without another word.
I close the door behind him and fall to my knees.
I don’t scream or sob, I just sit there, shaking, empty, and alone.
Several hours later, I muster the strength to leave the apartment and head to the Apple store to have my phone fixed. They replace it with a new one, making sure it works before I leave. I then decide to go to the mall and just aimlessly wander.
Everything in my life seems to be crumbling, and it’s all my fault.
I’ve tried calling and texting Abigail to apologize some more, but she wouldn’t answer.
I know she asked for time, but I don’t want to give it to her; I want to fix our relationship.
Her wedding is only a few days away, and I hope she’ll wear the dress I made for her. She looked stunning in it.
A few hours later, I finally make my way back home. The second I step into our apartment, something feels off. The air is still and heavy. That’s when I notice a letter taped to my door. My name is scrawled across the envelope in Dylan’s handwriting.
I pull it down, my hands trembling slightly as I unfold the note.
Blair,
I realized I couldn’t text you since I don’t have your new number. I thought about messaging you on social media, but this felt more grand gesture or whatever the fuck. And honestly, I wasn’t sure if you’d already blocked me.
First and foremost, I’m sorry. When I called Abigail, I wasn’t acting like your best friend.
I was acting selfishly. I told myself I was protecting you, but the truth is, I wanted you back.
I thought if she knew about you and Calvin, she’d send you away, and if you were here…
maybe you’d finally see it was me you loved. But I see now how wrong that was.
I know how much you love him. It’s in everything you do.
Even in the way you look at the world now.
You’re more open, more fearless. It’s like being with him helped you discover a part of yourself I never even saw.
And while that realization hurts like hell, I’m also happy for you. You deserve to feel that free.
I regret what I said about you ruining things with Abigail. That was low. I know how much she means to you, and I should never have tried to weaponize that against you. You trusted me, and I broke that. I’m sorry.
I’ve decided to move out of the apartment. I’ll be staying with a friend for now, and I’ve already sent my share of the rent for next month to give you time to figure out what’s next. I’m not trying to make this harder. I just want to give you space to breathe.
I don’t know if we’ll ever get back to the way we were. Maybe we won’t. But if someday you find it in your heart to forgive me, I’d give anything to be your best friend again.
No matter what, I’ll always be here for you.
Dylan
I fold the letter carefully, placing it on the counter. There’s a weight in my chest, a mix of anger and sadness. Dylan is gone, and while part of me feels like I should be relieved, another part mourns the friendship we once had.
I lean against the counter, letting out a shaky breath. What now?