HIS ONE TRUE LOVE

Untitled Episode

The couch had become my permanent bed of choice ever since the engagement party, it had been two weeks. The curtains were still drawn. My phone was on silent at the bottom of the rug. I couldn’t remember the last time I showered, and honestly, I didn’t care, I was barely eating, barely sleeping, practically living in my pajamas and I still could not get over him. Harlan.

I had confirmed without a doubt that he hated me, loathed me even and I was just waiting for whatever revenge he had planned out for me but that wasn’t really the problem. The problem was everything that had happened between us that night.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it.

His hands on my thighs, the way his mouth knew its way around my skin, the press of the wall against my back. The way my body betrayed me like it didn’t give a damn about pride or logic or the fact that he had a girlfriend and I was engaged. To his older brother.

The worst part wasn’t even what he did.

It was how fast I let it happen. One touch from him, and everything I had rehearsed, every speech, every explanation, every ounce of self-control evaporated like it had never existed. I could not think, I could not fight, I could not even speak. I just opened up for him, like I was still his to take. His to possess, his to own.

And God help me—I wanted more. Still do.

Just the memory of his breath on my neck made my spine curl. I drew my knees to my chest under the blanket, like I could hide from myself.

The door slammed.

Hannah stomped into the living room, holding shopping bags and a death glare. “Get. Up.”

I didn’t move. Didn’t lift my head.

“I am sick of this.” Anger spread through Hannah’s veins.

I turned again on the couch. “Go away”

“You are being ridiculous Brooklyn, you have been acting like you are in mourning for the past two weeks and I can’t take it anymore. You won’t tell me what happened and you won’t let me help you either, what is wrong with you?” She said, dropping her shopping bags on the center table.

I turned to face her. “Did you get me my strawberry milkshake?”

Hannah walked towards me and crouched in front of me. “What is going on with you? What is this? What happened that night? Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because I am ashamed. I can’t even bring myself to forgive myself.” I rambled, tired of holding it all in.

Hannah’s hand shot out, caressing my cheek with her thumb. “Come on, Halo, it's me and you, Hannah and Brooks. The messy duo. No one can out-mess us, and there is nothing you could have done that could outrank my level of messiness, so out with it.”

“Try getting finger f****d by your fiancé’s younger brother, who so happens to be your ex, the one that you can’t stop thinking about on your engagement day. How’s that for messy?”

Hannah’s jaw slacked. “You finger what now?”

I swallowed. “Harlan.”

Her whole body jolted. “I’m sorry, what do you mean by ‘Harlan’ and ‘finger’ in the same sentence? Brooklyn—”

“He touched me and I let him,” I said, voice shaking. “I let it happen.”

Hannah shot to her feet like she’d been electrocuted. “Wh—wait. What? What the hell does that mean? He what? You two—”

I pulled the blanket over my face, groaning. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like that. I can’t even look at you.”

She ripped the blanket off and threw it across the room. “Like what? You better start looking at something and explaining, because I swear to God—”

I took a shaky breath and told her everything.

From the moment I walked up to him, to his accusations. The slap I gave him and the one I attempted to give which led me to the wall. The press of his body on me, his hands on my thighs, his mouth on my skin, his voice. The way my body had answered him like it remembered every second of loving him and none of the pain that followed. The way I came apart against him faster than I would ever admit sober.

And then I recounted how he called his girlfriend after burying his fingers deep inside me, how he fixed his shirt like nothing happened, how he looked at me like I didn’t matter, with more indifference than disdain. How he wished me a happy engagement and walked away like I had been nothing but an itch he wanted to scratch.

Hannah’s mouth fell open so wide I thought her jaw would lock there.

She didn’t speak for a full minute.

Then—“You are telling me you let that man rail you against a wall while his girlfriend and your fiance were in the building? Like in the garden of the venue of your engagement party.”