Walking down the hallway, thinking of the life I was about to throw away, I passed by Gareth’s room. And the sounds coming from inside made me freeze.
Low breaths. Rough groans. The room shook with raw, wild desire. I reached for the door without thinking. Then, I opened the gates of hell.
Gareth sat shirtless, muscles tight, sweat shining on his skin. His hand moved between his legs, his head tilted back, lost in pleasure. Papers lay scattered everywhere. On the floor, the bed, and the desk.
My heart stopped when I saw them.
Gwyneth.
He had drawn her face from every angle. Smiling, laughing, looking over her shoulder, and her hair messy like she had just woken up in his arms. And there was more. Sketches of her body.
Not dirty. But soft, intimate curves.
In one drawing, Gwyneth was lying on her back with her head turned and her lips slightly opened. In another, her arms stretched above her head, a thin sheet barely covering her thighs.
I froze as Gareth lifted one sketch. It was one where Gwyneth was topless, her back arched. He brushed his lips against the paper and moaned her name.
“Gwyneth … Gwyneth … ”
Everything inside me crumbled. Gareth hadn’t just used me. He had never even seen me.