After Betrayed, I find myself

The hallway bulb flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the faded carpet.

I pushed my key into the lock of our shared apartment.

A ten-hour shift at the lab had drained the energy from my bones. I wanted nothing more than Anderson's arms around me, a warm dinner, and a quiet evening planning our wedding.

I nudged the front door shut.

A sharp slap echoed down the narrow corridor.

Then came a wet, rhythmic sound. Fleshy. Fast.

"Fuck, Fiona. Spread your legs wider."

Anderson's voice. My fianc�� of ten years.

"Right there, Anderson. Fuck my pussy. Harder."

Fiona. My adopted sister.

I froze.

My keys slipped from my fingers, landing on the hall runner with a muted thud.

"You like my cock inside you?" Anderson grunted.

"Yes. God, yes. Shove it all the way in."

The heavy oak headboard slammed against the drywall. Bang. Bang. Bang.

My stomach dropped into a bottomless pit. I pressed my palm against the cool plaster of the wall to stay upright.

"I'm going to fuck your pussy until you scream," Anderson growled.

"Yes, Anderson. Fuck me hard. Ruin me."

"Wrap your legs around my waist. I want my cock buried deep inside you."

Bile rose in my throat. I crept closer to the bedroom door, the wood slightly ajar, a sliver of yellow light spilling onto the floorboards.

"Fill my pussy with your cum, Anderson. Fuck, yes."

A low, guttural groan tore from his throat. The frantic slapping sped up, culminating in a heavy weight collapsing onto the mattress.

Heavy pants filtered through the crack in the doorway.

I stared at the sliver of light. Ten years of loyalty. Ten years of building a life, a future, a shared dream.

"Pass me that towel," Anderson said.

"You made a mess of me," Fiona giggled.

"You asked for it."

The rustle of cotton sheets masked the sound of my ragged breathing. My jaw tightened so hard my teeth ached.

"Anderson," Fiona whispered, her tone shifting from lustful to sweet.

"What is it?"

"Are you really giving me the Harvard university fellowship spot?"

A heavy silence settled over the room.

My fingers curled into fists. I had spent six months drafting that grant proposal. Harvard was my dream. Anderson was the committee chair.

"We talked about this," he said.

"I know, but Andy is your fianc��e."

"Exactly because she's my fianc��e, I'm giving it to you."

His tone held no hesitation. It was the same authoritative voice he used in corporate board meetings.

"She thinks it's hers," Fiona murmured. "She packed a box for Boston yesterday."

"Andy is about to marry into my family and become Mrs. Wills. She doesn't need this."

"You're just going to take her name off the finalist list?"

"I already did."

My nails dug into my palms, breaking the skin.

"As an engaged couple, I need to avoid favoritism," Anderson continued. "It looks bad for the firm."

"She's going to be crushed, Anderson."

"She'll get over it. Her job is to