27. Gavin
Gavin
Ten Years Earlier
I’m exhausted. That job took twice as long as I expected, but the pay was solid—and every extra dollar matters with the move coming up.
In one week, Dani and I will be in Sacramento, starting our new lives while she steps into her dream job.
She still has no idea I’ve been taking journalism classes at night. I haven’t decided if I’ll transfer to a school in California or let it go. For now, it doesn’t matter. What matters is her. Supporting her. Building something together.
I pull into the apartment complex and drag myself upstairs, already fantasizing about a shower and collapsing into bed.
Then I notice the front door is unlocked.
That’s weird. I know I locked it before I left. And Dani said she’d be at the library all night with her study group.
Maybe she finished early.
“Sweetheart?” I call as I step into our tiny living room.
Boxes are stacked everywhere, half-packed chaos from weeks of getting ready to leave.
Then I see him.
A figure sitting on our couch.
It’s not Dani.
I freeze.
“Sam?”
“Afternoon, Gavin. Welcome home.”
He’s wearing that smug, infuriating half smile. The one that makes my hands curl into fists before I can stop them.
“What are you doing here?” My voice is controlled, but only barely. “Dani didn’t mention you were stopping by. And honestly, we’re not really in a position for visitors.” I gesture toward the mountain of boxes. “Plus, she’s on campus all night.”
I head for the kitchen. Needing something to do with my hands before I do something stupid, I grab a beer from the fridge.
If I have to deal with this asshole alone, I’m going to need it. Maybe more than one.
Sam stands and strolls toward the counter that separates the kitchen from the living room. He hops onto one of the barstools like he owns the place.
Like he’s comfortable here. Belongs here.
And he just watches me.
Smiling.
“Uh, want one?” I tip the bottle his way.
“No thanks.” He leans back casually. “And I’m not here to see D. I’m actually here to talk to you. I’ve got a little going-away present.”
I frown. “Excuse me?”
Sam’s grin widens. “Mm-hmm. I think you’re really going to like it.”
Every instinct in my body tells me I won’t.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, tapping at the screen. I take another long swallow of beer, because if it isn’t obvious, I really don’t like this guy. He’s always rubbed me the wrong way. He’s just too smooth and too familiar with everyone around him. It’s weird.
Dani once told me that when they were younger, he had a thing for her. Claims he’s over it. Claims they’re just friends now.
I don’t buy it. Not for a second.
But I refuse to be that guy. The jealous, controlling boyfriend who dictates who she can and can’t see. So, I smile when he’s around. I shake his hand. I play nice.
Because a happy Dani means a happy Gavin.
“Ah,” Sam says, satisfaction dripping from his voice. “Here it is.”
He angles the phone toward me and presses play.
I’m looking away when the video starts, but the sound hits me like a punch to the throat.
Those moans. Those gasps.
I’d know them anywhere.
Dani.
My head snaps toward the screen and my stomach drops.
It’s us.
A video of us having sex. Shot through a cracked door. Zoomed in. Close enough to see everything.
The beer bottle slips from my hand and explodes against the tile, glass shattering across the floor.
“Oh, this is the best part.” Sam grins. “Dani really is a loud one, huh?”
I don’t even remember moving. One second I’m standing there, the next I’ve ripped the phone from his hand and hurled it against the wall, smashing it into pieces.
I move around the counter and grab him by the front of his shirt, slamming him back against the wall.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I yell.
He just smiles.
He fucking smiles.
“I have a proposition for you.”
“Get the fuck out of my house.” I shove him away, my hands shaking at the effort of not knocking his teeth out.
“You haven’t heard what I have to say.” He walks back to the couch and sits like we’re discussing weekend plans.
“I have nothing to say to the psycho who made an illegal sex tape of me and my girlfriend!”
“Hey.” He shrugs. “Not my fault you two can’t keep it down. You were practically inviting me to peek the last time I crashed on your couch.”
The words hit colder than the video did. He’d been here. Listening. Watching.
I feel sick.
“Anyway,” he says, leaning forward. “Here’s my proposition. You’re going to leave Dani.”
A laugh bursts out of me. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“You didn’t let me finish.” He holds up a finger. “You’re going to leave Dani… or that video goes online for the world to see.”
I freeze.
The air disappears from the room.
“Ah,” he says softly. “Now I have your attention.”
“Why—” My voice cracks. “What do you want?”
His expression shifts from smug to something darker. Obsession.
“I want Dani. I’ve always wanted her. When you break her heart, she’ll run to her oldest friend for comfort.” His lips curl. “And she’ll finally realize it was always supposed to be me.”
And for the first time, I understand.
This isn’t about jealousy.
This is about control.
“I just totaled your phone. The video’s gone.”
The words feel desperate even as I say them.
“Dude. How stupid are you?” He tilts his head. “You really think that was my real phone? Or that I didn’t back the video up somewhere?”
Of course he did.
My pulse pounds in my ears. I’m not thinking straight. I’m reacting. Breaking. Not thinking.
Deep breaths, Gavin. Think.
“What’s stopping me from going to the cops?” I ask, trying to steady my voice.
He leans back like we’re debating sports statistics.
“Do you know how hard it is to prosecute revenge porn cases? I’d just say you asked me to record you.
Besides…” His smile sharpens. “The minute you step into that police station, I’ll release it.
And Dani’s career will be over before it even starts.
No station in the country will touch someone with a sex tape. ”
My stomach drops.
He’s not bluffing.
He doesn’t care about consequences. He cares about leverage.
“There’s a flaw in your plan,” I shoot back, grasping at anything. “You release it, you hurt Dani and her career, but we’re still together. You don’t get what you want. And she can tell her bosses it wasn’t her who leaked it. She can fight it. She can save her job.”
Please let that be true.
Please let there be a loophole.
“Ah,” he says. “That’s where you’re wrong, my idiot friend.”
My jaw tightens.
“She has a morality clause in her contract. Doesn’t matter who released it. Doesn’t matter if she’s the victim. The station won’t risk the optics. No one will keep her on while a sex tape is floating around the internet.”
The room tilts.
Morality clause.
I heard her talk about it before. But I never imagined it being weaponized like this.
“Plus,” he continues, standing now, circling like he’s already won, “I know you. I know you would do anything for Dani. You know how important this job is to her. How hard she’s worked. How long she’s wanted it.”
Every late-night class. Every unpaid internship. Every tearful rejection email.
All of it flashes through my head.
“You would give up anything to see her succeed,” Sam says softly. “Even your relationship. That’s how much you love her.”
My chest feels like it’s caving in.
Because he’s right.
Fuck.
If I stay, I destroy her future.
If I leave, I destroy her heart.
And either way, I lose her.
“So, you see,” Sam says, straightening his shirt, calm as ever, “I win.”
I feel the tears streaming down my cheeks. He’s right. Every instinct, every fiber of me, knows what Dani’s career means to her. I would give everything—my comfort, my happiness—so she could have it. And Sam? He knows it.
“What happened to you? Why are you like this?” I whisper, though part of me already knows the answer.
“Because… all my life I’ve gotten what I wanted. And I want Dani. So now I’m getting that too.”
I swallow hard, trying to anchor myself. I have to believe she’ll see him for what he is. She’ll run from him. She’ll be safe. She’ll be happy with someone else. If it can’t be me… just don’t let it be him.
“You know there’s no guarantee she’ll be with you, right?”
“O ye of little faith,” Sam says, tapping the side of my face. “And Gavin. You ever contact Dani and tell her, I’ll release the video. I don’t care how much time has passed. Do we understand each other?”
I clench my teeth until my jaw aches. My head jerks in a quick nod.
“Good boy.” Sam smirks. “And for being such an obedient one, I’ll let you stew until the move. Enjoy this last week.”
He strides to the front door, opens it, and slams it shut behind him.
I run toward it, my fist flying, and the crack of wood—or maybe even my own bones—echoes through the apartment. I can’t even tell if it hurt. I don’t care.
Numbness takes over. Every muscle gives out. I crumble to the floor, my forehead pressed against the cold wood. I let out a sound I don’t even recognize.
Eight months. The best eight months of my life.
Gone in an instant.
Not because I stopped loving her.
Because loving her means losing her.
And right now, losing her is the only way to save her.