Rami comes downstairs having heard the TV

Rami’s footsteps hit the stairs lightly—barefoot, careful, but fast enough to suggest urgency. Emily fumbled with the remote trying to get it to stop or turn off but kept hitting the wrong buttons and it only got louder.

The video was still playing, soft moans and skin-on-skin rhythm echoing through the open living room. She scrambled and finally managed to mute it just as he reached the last step.

“Hey,” he said, brow furrowed. His bare chest was still damp from the shower, hair tousled like he’d run a towel through it hastily. “Did something—?”

His eyes flicked to the screen. Paused. Stopped moving entirely.

Emily stood frozen, breath shallow, one hand gripping the remote like a shield.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. His jaw worked once.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” he said finally. Not defensive. Just low. Almost resigned.

Emily’s eyes stayed locked on him. She wanted to speak—demand an explanation, cut into him with some half-clever line—but all that came out was, “Why that one?”

Rami’s face didn’t change. “You already know why.”

Her breath caught.

“You picked it,” she said, voice flat. “You looked for a woman who looked like me. And a guy who looked like you.”

He gave a shallow nod. “Yeah.”

That single syllable landed between them like a weight.

Silence settled. The video on screen kept looping silently now—those same thrusts, the handcuffed woman, the man behind her moving just the way Rami wanted to.

Emily stared at him. At his chest rising and falling. At the way he couldn’t quite hold her gaze now. And at the outline forming again in his shorts, unmistakable even now.

“You obviously didn't expect me to come over today,” she said.

He swallowed. “I didn’t mean for you to see it.”

“But you watched it this morning.”

Another pause. He didn’t deny it.

Her pulse fluttered—anger, confusion, a slow, curling heat that refused to dissipate. The room felt too small.

“Say something,” she said, more breath than voice. “Anything.”

Rami exhaled slowly. “I shouldn’t have left it up. But I couldn’t stop watching it. Not because of the sex. Because it looked like us.” He met her eyes finally. “I wanted it to be us.”