Ariana’s POV
“You fucking piece of shit, Jake. I saw it this time. Don’t even try lying to my face.”
My voice came out sharp as I slammed my coffee mug on the kitchen table, the hot liquid splashing over the edge and burning my fingers. I didn’t care.
My hands shook while I held up his phone, the screen still glowing with her latest message. That cheap little slut emoji and the words “last night was insane, can’t wait for more of your cock.”
Jake leaned back in his chair, shirt half open from the night before, his jaw tight.
He didn’t even flinch. “It’s over, Ariana. You hear me? I’m done pretending. She oesn’t nag me every damn second like you do.
Don't bitch about every little thing. She actually lets me fuck her without turning it into a therapy session.”
The words hit like a slap. I felt my chest tighten, heat rushing up my neck.
My nipples hardened under my thin tank top from the anger, or maybe from the twisted memory of how rough he used to grab them when we still fucked like animals.
“You think I nag? I nag because you can’t keep your dick in your pants for five minutes. Last week you came home smelling like her cheap perfume and pussy.
I let you fuck me anyway that night, remember? Bent over the couch like a desperate idiot while you lied straight to my face.”
He laughed, low and mean, pushing his plate away. Eggs and bacon sat cold between us. “Yeah, and you loved it.
Moaning like a whore, pushing that tight ass back on me. But guess what? She does it better. Don't cry after and ask if I still love her. She just takes it. Deep. Hard. No bullshit.”
My stomach twisted but my pussy clenched at the same time, traitorous body reacting to the filth even as my heart cracked.
I hated how wet I got when he talked dirty, even now, even while he destroyed us. “You’re disgusting. You know that? I gave you everything.
My body, my time, my fucking heart. And you’re texting her under the table while I’m making your breakfast? Go to her then. See if she puts up with your lazy ass when you can’t even make her cum properly half the time.”
Jake stood up fast, chair scraping loudly against the tile. He towered over me, eyes dark. “Don’t act like you weren’t riding my face last month begging for it.
You’re the one who gets soaked every time I call you my dirty little secret. But it’s done. Pack your shit.”
I wanted to slap him. Instead I grabbed the closest thing, his stupid protein shake, and hurled it across the room.
It exploded against the wall, thick liquid dripping down like cum. “Fuck you, Jake. I hope her pussy dries up the second you touch her. I’m gone.”
By noon the suitcases were stuffed. I didn’t fold anything, just shoved in jeans, thongs, my favorite vibrator that Jake never knew about, and every sexy dress I owned.
Tears burned my cheeks but I kept moving, hauling the bags down the stairs two at a time.
My arms ached, my heart pounded so hard I felt it in my throat.
Every step away from that apartment felt like ripping off a bandage that had been stuck to an open wound.
I slammed the trunk of my car shut and climbed in. The engine roared to life and I peeled out, not looking back.
The city blurred past my window while I cried hard, snot and tears mixing, my hands gripping the wheel until my knuckles went white. “Never again,” I whispered to myself, voice hoarse.
“No man gets to fuck me up like this. I’ll make myself cum better than he ever did. I’ll find someone who actually wants this body and doesn’t sneak around.”
My best friend’s building came into view too soon. Sarah had texted me back the second I sent the SOS. “The door's open, babe. Come crash.
We’ll drink and trash his ass.” I parked crooked, grabbed the heaviest suitcase, and dragged it up to her floor.
My legs felt weak, thighs rubbing together under my shorts, still a little sticky from the angry heat that wouldn’t leave my body.
Sarah opened the door before I could knock. Her hair was messy, tank top clinging to her full tits, shorts riding high on her thick thighs.
She looked me up and down, eyes soft but something else flickering there too. “Jesus, Ari. You look wrecked. Get in here.”
I dropped the suitcase and walked straight into her arms. She hugged me tight, her body warm and soft against mine. Her tits pressed into my chest and I felt her heartbeat matching my racing one.
“He was texting her again,” I mumbled into her shoulder. “Called me a nag. Said she fucks better. I threw his shake everywhere like a crazy person.”
Sarah pulled back just enough to look at me, her hands sliding down to my waist. “What a pathetic dick. You’re way too good for that shit.
Remember how you used to tell me about the way he’d eat you out? All sloppy and selfish? You deserve someone who buries their face in that pussy until you’re shaking.”
Her words sent a fresh pulse between my legs. I laughed through the tears, but it came out shaky.
“God, I hate how turned on I still get thinking about the angry sex we had.
Last time he fucked me so hard I saw stars, but then he’d roll over and text her. I’m so fucked up.”
Sarah’s fingers traced small circles on my lower back, slipping just under the hem of my tank top.
Her touch felt electric on my bare skin. “You’re not fucked up. You’re horny and hurt. That’s normal. Come sit. I’ll pour us something strong.”
I followed her inside, kicking off my shoes. The apartment smelled like her vanilla body spray and something warmer underneath.
My mind raced with everything that just happened, Jake’s cruel laugh, the way his cock used to stretch me, the texts that proved I was never enough. But here with Sarah, the anger mixed with something raw and needy.
I watched her bend over to grab glasses from the low cabinet, her ass cheeks peeking out from those tiny shorts, and a dirty little thought slipped in before I could stop it.
What if I didn’t need a man right now at all?
Sarah turned around with two glasses and caught me staring. Her lips curved into a slow smile, eyes darkening. “You okay, Ari? You look like you’ve got more on your mind than just that asshole.”
I swallowed hard, heart hammering again, the tension thick enough to taste.
My nipples were tight against my top and I didn’t bother hiding it.
This was supposed to be me running from one mess, but standing here in her living room, body still buzzing from the fight, I felt the edge of something new and dangerous pulling me in.
“Yeah… I don’t know anymore,” I said, voice low. The words hung there between us, heavy and unfinished.