Page 46 of Hidden Desires

She nods, eyes full of concern.

I pour us each more wine, and we move to the couch, a foot of space between us at first. I let the silence stretch, wanting her to confess, but she just looks at me, searching for a crack in my armor.

Finally, I can’t take it. I turn to face her, and the words come out, flat and deadly:

“I saw you online last night.”

She blinks. “Online?”

“On a cam site,” I say, letting the words hit like a bomb.

Her wine glass slips, sloshing red across her hand. Her face goes white, then red, then white again. “What… what do you mean?”

I don’t blink. “You were on a live cam. Username ‘BunnySnowGirl.’”

Eliza stares at me, open-mouthed. For a second, I see the wheels turning—calculating, rationalizing, maybe even plotting a denial. But she’s not a good liar. Never has been.

Her eyes fill with tears, and her voice comes out in a ragged whisper. “I—Jack—It’s not what you think.”

I laugh, and it’s the ugliest sound I’ve ever made. “What I think is I saw my girlfriend, the woman I’ve been fucking for months, getting railed by a pink dildo for a crowd of anonymous perverts. Am I off-base?”

She starts to cry, real tears, but not the delicate movie kind—full-body, shoulders-shaking, air-gasping sobs. She drops her head to her hands, mascara streaking down her cheeks.

I want to hold her, but I stay perfectly still.

After a minute, she forces herself upright, eyes red but focused. “Please let me explain,” she says.

I nod, but don’t say anything.

She takes a breath. “I started doing it last year, before I met you. I was broke, saddled with student loans, and the law firm was paying me shit. Someone I knew in college made a ton doing cam shows during the pandemic. She told me about it, and I thought I’d try it for a month, just for a little bit.”

She swallows hard. “It was supposed to be one time. But it paid so much more than anything else I’d ever done, and it was easy, in a weird way. I could be whoever I wanted. I didn’t have to pretend to be smart, or perfect, or even myself. I could just perform, then log off, and go back to real life.”

She wipes her eyes, shoulders slumped. “I should have told you, Jack. I was going to, but I kept waiting for the right time, and there never was one. And then I fell for you and I thought if you found out, you’d never want me again.”

I sit there, stone-faced, but inside I’m a mess. I want to forgive her, to laugh it off, to tell her it’s no big deal. But it is. I can’t stop thinking of all the guys who’ve seen her slick pussy, jerked off to her tiny asshole, even heard that throaty laugh that belongs to me.

“Why don’t you stop?” I ask, voice sharp.

She looks down. “Because I’m good at it. Because it pays better than my real job. Because I still live at home because I have very little money. Because … because I like the power. It’s the only time I feel totally in control of my life.”

She chokes on another sob. “I know it’s fucked up. I know I should have told you. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Jack.”

The words hang there, heavy as lead. She’s trembling, hands clasped in her lap.

I take a breath, long and deliberate. The whiskey from last night is still in my veins, but it’s not helping.

“I wish you’d trusted me,” I say, trying to keep my voice level. “But I don’t hate you. I don’t think less of you. I just need you to be honest with me from now on.”

She nods, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I promise. No more secrets.”

We sit like that for a long time, the silence punctuated by her shaky breaths.

Eventually, I reach out and take her hand. Her fingers are cold, but she grips mine with desperate strength.

“I’m not going anywhere, Eliza,” I say, and mean it. “It’s not great, but it’s fine. I can get over this.”

She sobs harder, but this time it sounds almost like relief.