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So straightening my shoulders once more, I mentally collected myself, staring at the imposing door before me. There would be only one chance, and I needed to do it right. Marshalling my courage, I stepped forward and slipped the key into the door.
It opened soundlessly, the hinges perfectly greased. Of course, this was a luxury high rise and everything always works perfectly. I poked my head inside.
“Luke?” came my quiet call. “Luke?”
But there were no sounds. Breathing deeply, I willed my heart to stop racing, and stepped into the apartment, shutting the big door silently behind me. Everything was the way I remembered with the beautifully upholstered low-slung couches, two giant flat screen TVs and priceless artwork strewn about. Even the coffee book on famous ballerinas was still open to the same page, the images glossy and perfect.
“Luke?” I called out again, slowly walking towards the kitchen. “Mr. Lyons are you here?”
It was pretty late, and as usual, the kitchen was immaculate, copper pots strung up over the island, the big sub-zero humming soundlessly. I took another deep breath. What if he wasn’t here? What if he was still at work, looking over numbers or doing whatever it was that CEOs do?
Fine. I’d wait. There was still the big book on ballerinas to read, I could keep myself busy. But suddenly, a dull thump rang out.
I started. What was that? Had something broken, like the washing machine or dryer? Standing silently, I got up to investigate before sitting back down again. This wasn’t my place. Even if I’d almost lived here for the last month, still, my name wasn’t on the lease and I was really nothing but a guest. So I dropped to the couch again, fingers reaching once more for the big coffee book.
But then it came again, louder this time, a loud bump. What in the world? It was like there were movers struggling with a giant couch up the stairs, dropping the furniture, maybe banging into the walls. I got up again this time, determined to find an answer. Heck, there could be something really wrong. Maybe this beautiful building was having problems and a wall had caved, or a sprinkler had malfunctioned. It was my duty to find out.
So my feet crept soundlessly down the carpeted hallway. There was the blue bedroom on the right, and stopping for a moment, I looked in that direction. But no, it was perfectly soundless, door tightly shut. So I kept moving, quiet as a mouse.
And finally, at the end of the hallway, I paused. Passing by countless doors, my ears had prickled, listening for the sound again. But there’d been nothing. Had it been my imagination? Was I so wired from the day’s events that even the slightest boo made me jump? Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm down. Luke would be back any second, and I had to keep it together. I had to appear calm and composed, even if I was a mess inside.
But then it happened. The thunk came again, impossible to miss, and I whirled to look. What in the world? Staring at the door to the red bedroom, another thunk sounded out once more, relentless and loud. What was going on in there? The door was tightly shut and I bit my lip, unsure what to do.
But then the blood ran cold in my veins, turning to ice. Because a long moan sounded through the door, an “Ahhhh” that meant only one thing. There was a woman in there. There was a woman having the time of her life, and it had to be with Luke. It had to be with my man, he was fucking another woman right here, right now.
A dagger lanced through my heart and I literally bent over in two, unable to breathe. Oh my god, how could this be happening? My head lowered automatically, trying to find oxygen but it was impossible. My lungs just wouldn’t inflate and I fell to the floor then, collapsing in a messy heap.
Oh god, oh god, what was going on? Scrabbling at the carpet, I tried to come to terms with the situation. But even as my mind spun dizzily, it happened again. Another long, low, breathy “Ahhhhh,” sounded out, this time with the accompanying sound of rhythmic wet slaps. Oh god. They were fucking for sure, that was the sound of dick going in cunt.
And as if on cue, a male grunt sounded out then, followed by a long and low, “Yeah baby.”
With that, I was gone. All my resolve about behaving professionally, about confronting Luke in a calm and balanced manner went out the door and I fled down the hallway, breath coming in gasps, brown curls flying. Oh my god, oh my god. I couldn’t believe it because this was worse than my worst nightmare. I’d thought that Luke would fess up about some girls he’d banged in the past, he’d say that the bedrooms were just left over from his past life. I thought he’d have excuses and it’d be up to me to decide whether I wanted to believe them.
