With his voice sending shivers down your spine

The finality in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. You know he's right. There's no going back. You nod, unable to speak, and slip out the door.

The hallway is a blur. You move like a zombie, your mind a jumble of conflicting emotions. The lingering pleasure of being so completely used wars with the rising panic of what you've just done. The hotel bar is quiet as you stumble through it, a few guests looking at you with open curiosity or concern. You ignore them, your eyes scanning the crowd for Ashley's familiar dress, her bright smile.

You find her sitting at a small table near the window, looking at her phone, a small frown on her face. When she sees you, her expression shifts to relief, then quickly to shock.

"Harley? Oh my god, what happened?" She's on her feet in an instant, rushing to your side. Her hands hover over your torn dress, the marks on your skin. "Are you okay?"

The lie is there, waiting for you. Perfect. Plausible. But as you look into her concerned, innocent eyes, you can't make the words come out. Your throat is tight. All you can smell is Garvin's musk, all you can feel is the ghost of him inside you, the sticky evidence of your betrayal leaking down your leg.

"Ashley..." you manage to **** out, your voice cracking. "I... I messed up."

Her brow furrows. "What do you mean?"

You shake your head, unable to explain. How can you tell her that while she was waiting patiently for her date to return, he was in another room getting his boycunt absolutely destroyed by the black guy who used to terrorize you? How can you tell her that you loved every second of it?