Her voice shakes with . . . shame? Embarrassment? It kills me, and I want to roar my anger on her behalf, but I stay quiet, understanding that she needs to tell it all.

“I should’ve said no right then. If I had, everything would’ve been different. There was part of me—some warning siren going off in my head that said this couldn’t end well—but I blamed it on my conservative upbringing and told myself to relax. To try to enjoy it. I loved the way Heath was looking at me. I’d never seen so much hunger in his eyes or felt so desired. Heath held my hand and kissed my neck when Rich started touching me.”

She shakes her head. “Heath took pictures of the whole thing. I focused on that to get through it—focused on him watching, on him being so turned on—and then I passed out afterward. To make matters worse, Sabrina came by the next morning after Heath left for work. Rich and I were still in bed together. I was still half drunk. She flipped on the lights, and I closed my eyes against the bright light, but Rich barked at her to get the fuck out.” She swallows and wipes her cheeks again. “I didn’t even try to jump out of bed. I froze while Sabrina stared at us. She was so disgusted, and I didn’t know what to do. I was so ashamed of what I’d done that I didn’t ever tell her the truth about what she saw that morning. And when she told Heath what she walked in on, he didn’t tell her either. I was never sure whether to be grateful or upset about that.”

“Why was she even there?”

“I think Rich had texted her that morning. They were friends, and he said he couldn’t make their meeting or something.” She shakes her head, and her brow creases as if she’s still trying to make sense of what happened that day. “I suspect that he alluded to being in bed with me. I think he wanted her to see us there together.”

“Just like he wanted her to tell me last night that you two would be in his room.” I nod. Teagan had warned me that he was manipulative, but I don’t think I had any idea. Guilt roars through me. She warned me, but I was duped anyway.

She closes her eyes. “Something like that.”

“What happened . . . after? Did Heath try to make you do it again?”

“No.” She grips the back of the chair, her knuckles whitening. “The thing about fantasies is that sometimes people don’t understand that something they like to think about isn’t actually something they should act on. Not all desires need to be lived, and some fantasies are better left to the imagination. But Heath didn’t understand that. He thought he knew what he wanted, but he didn’t. And after that night, he was different. We were different. He was possessive, unlike he’d ever been. If I even looked in another man’s direction too long, he’d snap at me. He’d accuse me of wanting the fantasy all the time, say he knew he wasn’t enough for me anymore, say I’d enjoyed Rich more than I ever enjoyed him. I told him that I’d done it for him.” Her voice cracks, and tears stream down her face. “He didn’t believe me. It’s like he forgot that it was all his idea, his fantasy. It didn’t take long for me to figure out we were better off not talking about it at all. But he’d taken those fucking pictures of me in bed with Rich, and he refused to delete them.”