Forbidden Desire

Chapter 9: The first lie

The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains, casting a golden hue across the room. I blinked into the light, barely registering where I was for a moment until the scent of him pulled me back into reality—Logan. His sheets were tangled around my legs, and the soft thrum of his breath echoed faintly in my ears. My heart pounded as the weight of everything came crashing down.

Last night. God, last night.

I sat up slowly, careful not to stir him. My body still tingled in places he had touched. My lips still felt bruised from the way he kissed me—hungry, possessive, unrelenting. I remembered how I’d melted under him, how I’d given in despite every alarm screaming in my head. I wasn’t the same woman who’d walked into his car hours before.

I had changed.

Sliding out of bed, I picked up my dress and tiptoed to the bathroom. The cold tiles sent shivers up my spine, grounding me in the harsh light of morning. I stared at myself in the mirror, makeup smudged, hair tousled, and yet my eyes… they looked different. Wilder. Conflicted.

You cheated.

The thought sliced clean through me.

Daniel.

The name alone was enough to make me stagger back a step. He was probably still asleep, blissfully unaware that the woman he loved was lying naked in another man’s bed. Worse, in Logan Westwood’s bed.

A wave of guilt slammed into me.

How do you face a man who’s been nothing but good to you after doing the one thing he’d never recover from?

I turned the shower knob and stepped under the warm cascade, hoping the water would wash away my shame. But nothing could erase the memory of Logan’s mouth on my neck, his hands pinning me against the wall, the sound of his voice when he whispered, "You’re mine now, Emily. You just don’t know it yet."

After dressing quietly and tiptoeing out of Logan’s penthouse, I called a cab and headed straight to my apartment. My fingers trembled as I unlocked the door, praying that Daniel hadn’t decided to drop by.

The moment I stepped inside, I collapsed onto the couch and covered my face with my hands.

What had I done?

I couldn't lie to myself. Last night had been intoxicating. Logan had a way of looking at me that made me feel like the only woman in the world. He made me feel beautiful, powerful, and desired. But all of that came with a price. And the cost was Daniel.

My phone buzzed on the coffee table. I snatched it up and stared at the screen.

Daniel: Morning, love. Just wanted to say I miss you already. Dinner tonight? My place?

My chest constricted. I had to tell him.

But how do you confess something so unforgivable?

Emily: Sure. I’ll be there.

I hit send before I could second-guess myself.

Maybe I could wait. Just a little while longer.

By the time I arrived at Daniel’s, I had rehearsed a hundred ways to tell him the truth. But the moment I walked through the door and he wrapped me in his warm embrace, every word dissolved on my tongue.

He kissed my cheek. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I replied softly, swallowing the lump in my throat.

He had cooked my favorite—creamy mushroom risotto with grilled shrimp—and poured us glasses of Pinot Noir. He even had a candle lit. Guilt sat heavy in my chest like a stone.

“Everything okay?” Daniel asked, noticing how quiet I was.

“Yeah,” I lied. The first lie. My voice didn’t even shake.

He reached across the table and took my hand in his. “You’ve been distant lately. Work stuff?”

I nodded. Another lie. “Yeah. Long shifts. Not much rest.”

“Well,” he said with a reassuring smile, “maybe it’s time you quit that job and finally join the marketing firm I told you about. They’re hiring. And you’re brilliant.”

My eyes stung. He believed in me. Even now.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he continued. “I know we’ve been together a while, and maybe it’s time we take things to the next level.”

My breath caught.

“What do you mean?” I asked, even though I already knew.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box. My vision blurred as he opened it. Inside sat a delicate gold promise ring.

“I know we’re not ready for marriage yet,” he said, “but I wanted you to know I’m serious about you. About us. I see my future with you, Emily.”

I choked back a sob and forced a smile as he slid the ring onto my finger. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

Another lie.

Because the truth was, I didn’t deserve this ring. I didn’t deserve him.

That night, I lay in Daniel’s arms, staring at the ceiling. His soft breathing should’ve been comforting, but it only reminded me of everything I stood to lose. Every time he kissed my neck or murmured, "I love you," my heart clenched tighter.

The problem wasn’t that I didn’t love him.

The problem was that I didn’t know who I was anymore.

Was I the woman who built a life with a kind, steady man like Daniel? Or was I the woman who burned with desire for a man like Logan—a man who awakened something raw and primal inside me?

And then there was the worst truth of all:

I wanted both.

The next day at work, I couldn’t focus. Every time the front door chimed, my stomach flipped, half-expecting Logan to walk in. And just when I thought he wouldn’t—he did.

He walked in like he owned the room.

Dressed in a tailored navy suit, his presence eclipsed everything around him. Heads turned. Waitresses whispered. He had that effect on people. But his eyes were only on me.

“Emily,” he said, his lips curving into a smirk.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed, glancing around nervously.

“I wanted to see you.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “You didn’t seem to mind last night when you were moaning my name.”

My cheeks flamed.

“Don’t,” I warned.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded note. “Dinner. Tonight. My place.”

“I can’t.”

“You will.”

And just like that, he turned and walked away.

I didn’t go. But I wanted to.

Instead, I stayed at home, clutching a wine glass and staring at my phone for hours. Every second I didn’t text him felt like a battle. Every second I didn’t confess to Daniel felt like I was falling deeper into the web of my own making.

The first lie was already told.

Now I had to live with it.

And somehow, the weight of not seeing Logan was worse than the guilt I carried.

What was happening to me?

By the end of the week, I’d lied so many times I’d lost count.

No, I wasn’t free for lunch.

Yes, I was just tired.

No, I hadn’t seen Logan.

But the truth was clawing its way out of me, begging to be set free. And with every lie, I was slowly becoming someone I didn’t recognize.

All it had taken was one night.

And now, the ripple effects had begun.