Everything I had

Part 112.

Now they were all there. Dozens. The two of them laughing. Kissing on the sand, silhouettes glowing brighter than the moon. Holding hands as they kept walking.

My heart felt like it had caught fire. Blood thundered through me, yet my fingers were ice-cold. My eyes stung with tears.

Every time I convinced myself it might get easier. That I could live without her. That I could go a day without checking her account, without swiping through every photo she'd ever posted like some obsessed bastard who couldn't breathe without seeing her face.

So I'd told myself deleting the app was the cure. What I didn't see, didn't exist.

And up until three minutes ago, Y/N had never kissed Clark on a beach.
Up until three minutes ago, their fingers had never been laced together.
Up until three minutes ago, there had still been a chance they'd broken up somehow magically.

Now that hope was crushed, scattered to dust, and all that was left was another beginning—a darker one.

I deleted the app again, shoved the phone back into my pocket, and sank into the chair, sulking. The next time Marry-Anne came with the water, I didn't even look at her.

Because no matter how hard I tried, no matter how far I reached, Y/N could not be replaced.

The order was simple. Pasta with lemon chicken. I didn't look up as I muttered the words, nor did I let myself reach for a drink. The only thing keeping me from drowning in it already was the drive home waiting for me later.

Still, my eyes lifted when Marry-Anne turned and walked away to pass the order on. She moved quickly, always occupied, serving table after table until she disappeared down the hallway.

That's when I pushed back my chair and excused myself, claiming the restroom, though in truth my steps fell in quick pursuit. Because the corridor was empty, private, hidden from every other pair of eyes.

Her silhouette caught under a single light above, her hand unlocking a door to another room. I seized her by the waist in a sudden grip that made her jolt. But the door was already open.

"Shh—it's alright," I murmured, letting her know it was only me. I didn't want to think about how many others might have cornered her like this before, during her shifts. That thought was poison.

I slipped us both into the storage room, no bigger than three square metres, shutting the door behind us. Marry turned within my grasp, breath quick, as the darkness folded over us.

"Tom I- I can't. I've got to work." She shook her head in a shy stutter. Her face pale in the dim light covered by the gap of the door. Had already lifted her onto the cleaning cart, steady enough to carry someone like her.

"We're going to be quick." I told her. "No one will notice." While my fingers curled around the waistband of her panties beneath her skirt. She looked down with a shaky breath. Not convinced of the idea yet and too worried someone might catch her. I understood. "I promise." I told her. She could be out of here in a minute.

Marry-Anne nodded. Cradling my cheeks in her palms as my finger traced the fabric down to her ankles. "You want this, don't you?" I questioned nevertheless. And Marry-Anne nodded again. She ran a thumb beneath my eye, staring at me like a fucking therapist trying to help lost cases.
"I do."
That's all I wanted to hear. I unbuckled my belt, bumping my dick a few times before I lined myself up. Didn't have a condom. That was fine. I knew when to pull out.

My thrusts were harsh. Nothing for weak nerves but Marry-Anne didn't have weak nerves. She hissed at first and whimpered with each collision. Sounding nothing like Y/N but she was fragile and I knew her limits. I grabbed her wrist off my cheek and placed it on my shoulder. Tapping twice meant I should stop and Marry-Anne needed that as I put my hand on her mouth to cover her sounds. Not because she was being too loud. No one and nothing could hear us in that moment but me. And that was the issue. I didn't want to hear- her! I wanted to hear my wife begging for more. Not my brother's ex girlfriend trying to muffle her moans.