Page 8 of The Wrong Play

I flinched. The smell of fresh coffee and bacon in the room made me want to be sick.

Callum’s eyes flicked to mine, a spark of amusement in their depths, as if he enjoyed this. As if he enjoyed watching me unravel while he sat there, perfectly composed, perfectly untouchable.

“Morning, Riley,” my father said, his voice light, unconcerned. “I didn’t know you were home.”

As if I had anywhere else to be.

I grinned weakly, the smile feeling all wrong on my face considering how I was feeling. Of course he hadn’t known I was home. I was surprised that he had noticed me walking into the room at all.

“You look tired,” my mother said after a minute, even though she was looking at her phone. “Didn’t sleep well?”

I hesitated, my hands curling into fists at my sides. Callum still had that smirk on his face, the one that told me he was finding this all very amusing.

No,actually,I didn’t sleep well at all because your husband’s best friend took my virginity last night,and now I feel like I might crawl out of my skin.

I swallowed down the words and slid into my seat instead, since I knew that was what they’d expect with company over. “I’m fine,” I muttered.

Callum was directly across from me, still the picture of composed elegance as he stirred sugar into his coffee. Completely normal. Like I wasn’t barely holding myself together. Like my entire world hadn’t shifted overnight.

My hands clenched tighter in my lap as Eleanor, one of our housekeepers, set down a plate filled to the brim with eggs, pancakes, and sausage.

I stared at the plate, trying to stop myself from throwing up all over it.

“Not hungry?” Callum’s voice was smooth, warm, dripping with the same familial concern that he usually had when he'd spoken to me in the past.

My mother barely spared me a glance before shaking her head in exasperation, like it had been years of her having to put up with me instead of mere minutes. “Eat your breakfast, Riley. The last thing we need is one of your episodes.”

My fingers tightened obediently around my fork, my skin hot and clammy. I picked at my food, pushing eggs around my plate without taking a bite. Callum eyed me for a second with his sharp blue eyes as he lifted his coffee to his lips.

I swallowed down a mouthful of bile.

Breakfast passed in an uncomfortable blur, with my parents exchanging idle conversation about their next trip while I sat in silence. Callum chimed in occasionally, always perfectly at ease.

I couldn’t help but watch him. How could he be so normal? How could he act like this was just another morning lost in conversation with his best friends?

Like he hadn’t touched me.

Destroyed me.

When I’d cut up my eggs into small enough pieces that it looked like I’d at least eaten a few bites, I pushed back from the table and made a beeline to the hallway—knowing my parents wouldn’t even notice I was gone. I needed to get out of the house, get some air, figure out how I was going to recover from this.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out listlessly, staring at the message from Brandon.

How are you?

Of course he would ask that. Brandon never wanted to feel like the bad guy. He wouldn’t want me to be upset with him. I would have leapt in desperation at this text if he’d sent it last night. I would have tortured myself with how to respond and wondered if I could possibly get him to want me again.

But right now, all I felt was…numb.

Exhausted.

Like something important inside me had been sucked out.

I’d always thought it would be Brandon that I’d give my virginity to. I’d been so close, and then I’d…

A hand suddenly closed around my wrist from the hallway, and I was yanked back into the shadows.

I barely had time to gasp before my back hit the wall.

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