My heart pounds like a jackhammer against my ribs as Morgan's words sink in. She doesn't find me disgusting. She doesn't think I'm a freak. The relief washing through me feels almost physical, like a weight I've carried for so long I'd forgotten it was there.
I watch as Morgan suddenly drops her phone onto the coffee table with a clatter, her expression shifting from sultry satisfaction to something I can't quite read. She stands abruptly, turning away from me.
"Morgan?" I call out, my voice still raspy from our intense session. "What's wrong?"
She doesn't answer, just starts walking toward the hallway. The sudden shift in her demeanor leaves me disoriented, especially after the intimate moment we just shared.
"Where are you going?" I ask, hastily tucking myself back into my pants. The sticky residue of my release cools uncomfortably against my skin, but I'm more concerned with Morgan's strange behavior.
She pauses at the edge of the living room, her silhouette framed by the moonlight streaming through the windows. For a moment, she looks almost ethereal, dangerous in her beauty, her red hair catching the light like living flame.
"Honey, I'll be right back," she says, turning back toward me with a reassuring smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I just need to check on the sprinklers, something seems broken with the timer. Go clean up, and I'll be right back, okay?"
"Sure, but do you want me to help?" I offer, already pushing myself up from the couch, but Morgan is through the door before I can even finish my sentence, leaving me alone in the suddenly quiet living room.
"That was weird," I mutter to myself, staring at the closed front door.
The television drones on, contestants still arguing about their love lives while mine just took a sharp left turn into confusion. I glance down at my disheveled state and grimace. Maybe cleaning up isn't such a bad idea after all.
As I start to head toward the bathroom, I notice Morgan's phone still sitting on the coffee table where she dropped it. The screen glows.
"Oh no, she forgot her phone," I say, reaching for it. I should probably bring it to her if she's dealing with sprinklers in the dark.
The phone's screen lights up in my hand, unlocked and opened on her home screen. Her wallpaper a picture of us smiling together.
I'm about to put the phone down when something catches my eye. Among the standard apps, Instagram, find my friends, banking apps, and email, sits the Discord icon.
"Discord?" I question, frowning slightly. "That's a little weird."
Morgan never struck me as a gamer or the type to hang out in online communities. She's always so focused on real-world connections, on physical presence. I can't imagine her spending hours chatting with strangers online like I do.
My thumb hovers over the icon, curiosity battling with the voice in my head telling me to respect her privacy. After what happened with Lana a part of me thinks I should just check it.
Fuck it. If she's sus, I'd rather know now.
"Just a quick look," I whisper, guilt already creeping up my neck as I tap the Discord icon.
The app opens immediately to a direct message thread with someone named Smolblunts.
My username.
The room tilts sideways as I stare at the screen, my brain refusing to process what I'm seeing. I scroll up slightly, seeing message after message exchanged between Smolblunts and RedheadloverX.
My best friend?
"What the fuck?" I breathe, my voice barely audible over the blood rushing in my ears. "Morgan is RedheadloverX?"
My fingers tremble as I scroll through the messages, recognizing conversations from over three months ago. Conversations about my relationship. About my insecurities. About my deepest, most private thoughts and fantasies that I'd only ever shared with the one person I thought would never judge me.
The person I thought was a guy. A random dude I met in my server who became the friend I could tell anything to.
"This can't be happening," I mutter, scrolling faster now, watching months of intimate confessions flash by. All the times I poured my heart out about Lana's career, about my conflicted feelings, about my darkest desires.
All the times RedheadloverX, Morgan, gave me advice. Pushed me away from Lana.
My stomach lurches violently as realization crashes over me. Every confession, every vulnerability I shared, she knew it all before we ever met at Starbucks. She knew exactly what buttons to push, exactly what I needed to hear.
I press the back button frantically, desperate to see what else she might be hiding. The Discord app gives way to her home screen, and my fingers fumble across various apps until I hit her Notes.
The first note makes my blood run cold. It's a detailed list of places my places. Starbucks on 4th Street: "Adam visits whenever Lana is shooting." Pizza Hut on Maple: "Adam's comfort food spot when stressed." Brattie's Bar: "Goes when stressed."
My hands shake so badly I nearly drop the phone. I scroll further and find what looks like a serial number labeled "Adam's car tracker." A fucking GPS tracker? Had she been watching my location all that time?
I keep scrolling, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. The notes become more stream-of-consciousness like she was brainstorming:
"How do I isolate Adam?"
"Ways to make Adam hate Lana?"
"Can I trick Lana into cheating with Leo?"
"How to reignite Lana's feelings for Leo?"
"Weaponize Sarah?"
"Adam anal play? I bet he'd love it."
The room spins around me as bile rises in my throat. I stagger to my feet, clutching the phone like it's both poison and proof.
She's the reason Lana Cheated?
Was that even real?
"Is my whole life a lie?" I whisper.
I go to her gallery, driven by a morbid need to see what else she's hidden. My thumb swipes through her photos, and my body goes cold. There are hundreds, no thousands, of pictures of me. Me sleeping on her couch. Me cooking in her kitchen. Me reading a book, completely unaware of her cameras.
"What the hell?" I whisper, my voice cracking as I swipe faster.
The timestamps go back months, long before we were together. Pictures of me through windows, at cafes, walking down streets. My hands tremble as I scroll deeper into her gallery.
Then I find the videos folder.
The first thumbnail makes my stomach drop. It's a hotel room, I recognize. The night I got so mad at Lana, I got blackout drunk. I tap it, and the video begins to play.
I'm there on the bed, eyes half-closed, movements sluggish. I barely remember that day.
"No," I breathe, unable to look away as the scene unfolds.
I was with Lana then. We were happy. I'd never have...
On screen, my eyes are unfocused, my limbs limp as she positions me how she wants. I watch in horror as she takes what was never offered, what I never consented to give.
The phone slips from my numb fingers, clattering against the floor. I stare at it like it's a venomous snake, the screen still glowing with that terrible truth.
"I was..." I can't even say the word. My lungs constrict, each breath more difficult than the last.
I stumble away from the phone, my mind reeling with the horrific revelation. Everything, my relationship, my feelings, my life, has been manipulated by the woman I thought I loved. The woman who violated me when I was vulnerable.
A scream builds in my throat, but before it can escape, I hear raised voices outside. Women's voices, angry and desperate, cutting through the quiet night air.
Morgan. And someone else.
I move toward the front door in a daze, my body on autopilot while my mind struggles to process the betrayal. The cool metal of the doorknob grounds me momentarily as I twist it open.
The security lights flood the front yard with harsh brightness. Morgan stands with her back to me, her posture rigid and threatening. Blood trickles down her cheek, catching the light like rubies against her pale skin.
"Morgan? What's going..." I stop dead in my tracks as I see who she's confronting. "Lana?"
My ex-girlfriend stands trembling before Morgan, her face a mess of blood from what looks like a broken nose. Scratches mark her skin, and her blonde hair is tangled wildly around her face. But what freezes my blood is the gun in her hand, pointed directly at Morgan's head.
"Adam, get behind me!" Morgan pleads, not taking her eyes off the weapon.
Lana's expression transforms when she sees me, relief washing over her bloodied features. "Adam!" she cries, her voice cracking. "Everything she's ever said to you was a lie! She's manipulated us! She turned us against each other and ruined us!"
"She's RedheadloverX! She fed you lies for months before she ever met you! She orchestrated everything!"
The world seems to slow down as I stand there, the horror of what I've discovered in Morgan's phone colliding with the chaos unfolding before me. My chest constricts painfully, each heartbeat a hammer strike against my ribs. The betrayal cuts so deep I can barely breathe.
"I know," I say, my voice empty.
"I just found out." I add.
Morgan whips around to face me, her eyes wide with panic. Blood trickles down her cheek, making her look both vulnerable and dangerous at the same time.
"Don't listen to her, Adam! She's crazy!" Morgan pleads, taking a step toward me.
Tears well up in my eyes as I look at Morgan, unable to reconcile the woman I thought I loved with the monster who's been manipulating me for months.
"You drugged me," I whisper, my voice catching. "I saw the video on your phone. You... you took advantage of me that night at the hotel. I was with Lana then."
Morgan's face pales beneath the security lights. "Adam, no. That's not what happened. You were drunk, yes, but you wanted it. You wanted me."
"I was blackout drunk!" My voice rises, cracking with emotion. "I couldn't consent to anything!"
Lana lowers the gun slightly, her eyes filling with tears. "Oh my god, Adam. What did she do to you?"
My legs feel like lead as I force myself to move, stepping down from the porch and into the harsh security lights. Everything around me seems unreal like I'm watching myself from a distance. The grass is cool beneath my bare feet as I walk toward Lana, my eyes fixed on the gun trembling in her hand.
"Lana," I say softly, my voice steadier than I feel. "Please give me that."
I reach out slowly, palm up, keeping my movements deliberate and non-threatening. Morgan makes a strangled sound behind me, but I don't turn to look at her. I can't. Not yet.
"Adam, don't…" Morgan starts, her voice sharp with panic.
"Just stop," I cut her off, not sparing her a glance. "You've done enough."
Lana's eyes are wide, swimming with tears that cut clean tracks through the blood on her face. Her hand shakes violently as she looks from me to the gun.
"She deserves it," Lana whispers, but there's uncertainty in her voice now. "After what she did to us..."
I step closer, close enough to smell the copper tang of blood and the faint scent of her familiar perfume.
"You're not a killer, Lana," I say gently. "Please."
Lana's face crumples, a sob escaping her lips as she slowly lowers the gun. I wrap my fingers around the barrel, easing it from her grip. The metal feels cold and impossibly heavy in my hand.
"Thank you," I whisper, carefully pointing the weapon at the ground. My heart nearly explodes in my chest as I realize what could have happened here tonight.
Morgan takes a step toward us, her face a mask of desperation. "Adam, please, let me explain…"
"Stay back!" I snap, my voice cracking like a whip. I don't raise the gun, I would never, but my tone alone is enough to freeze her in place.
I turn to Lana, taking in her battered face, the blood still trickling from her nose.
"Can you get me out of here?" I ask quietly. "Please. I just need to leave."
Lana nods, relief flooding her features as she reaches for my free hand. Her fingers are sticky with blood, but I hold on tight like she's the only real thing in this nightmare.
"My car's down the road," she says, her voice hoarse. "Come on."
"NO! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME!" Morgan's scream tears through the night air, primal and raw. She lunges forward, her bloodied face contorted in a mask of desperation. "ADAM! PLEASE! I DID IT ALL FOR US!"
I freeze, Lana's hand still clutched in mine, the gun heavy in my other hand. Morgan falls to her knees on the grass, clawing at the earth between us like she's trying to physically drag herself closer.
I stare at her, this stranger wearing the face of the woman I thought I loved. Her mascara runs in black rivers down her cheeks, mixing with the blood from the scratches Lana left. She looks broken, unhinged, a far cry from the composed, confident woman who'd been controlling my life from the shadows.
"There's nothing here, Morgan," I say, my voice hollow. "Whatever you thought we had... it wasn't real. None of it was real."
"No!" she wails, pounding her fists against the ground. "It was real! Everything I feel for you is real! I love you! I LOVE YOU!"
"You don't even know me," I whisper, the truth of it settling like ice in my veins. "You know a version of me you created."
Morgan crawls forward on her hands and knees, grass stains joining the blood on her designer clothes. "I know you better than anyone! Better than she ever did!" She points a trembling finger at Lana. "I know what you need, what you want, what you're too afraid to ask for!"
"Because you tricked me into telling you," I say, stepping back as she reaches for my ankle. "You pretended to be someone else to get me to confess my secrets."
"Adam, we need to go," Lana urges quietly beside me, her eyes darting nervously to the gun still in my hand.
Morgan's sobs turn to hysterical laughter. "You think you can just walk away? After everything I've done for you? I MADE YOU PERFECT!" Her voice cracks on the last word, splitting the night air like lightning.
I take another step back, pulling Lana with me. "I'm leaving, Morgan. Don't follow us."
"You're MINE!" she screams, her face twisted into something barely human. "I won't let you go! I'll find you! I'll always find you!"
Morgan suddenly launches herself at me, her body colliding with mine with such force that I stumble backward. Her arms wrap around my waist, fingers digging into my flesh with desperate strength as she presses her tear-streaked face against my chest.
"Please don't leave me," she sobs, clinging to me like I'm her only lifeline. "I'll die without you, Adam. I'll fucking die!"
The gun dangles awkwardly from my hand as I try to disentangle myself from her grip. Her nails scratch at my skin through my shirt, leaving burning trails as I struggle to break free.
"Morgan, stop this!" I shout, using my free arm to push against her shoulder. "Let go of me!"
She only tightens her hold, her body shaking violently against mine. "I can fix this! I can make you love me again! Please, baby, please..."
Lana steps forward, her face hardening as she grabs Morgan's arm. "Get off him!" she growls, pulling with surprising strength for someone so battered.
Between Lana's tugging and my own efforts, we finally manage to break Morgan's grip. She falls to her knees in front of me, hands now reaching for the gun. It's not hard to lift it out of her reach.
"Adam," she wails, her voice cracking with raw desperation. "Everything I did was for us! For our future!"
I back away, keeping the gun pointed at the ground but maintaining my distance. My stomach churns with disgust and pity in equal measure as I watch this woman I thought I knew unravel completely.
"There is no us, Morgan," I say firmly, taking Lana's hand again. "There never was."
We turn and start walking down the driveway.
"This isn't how this was supposed to go!" she screams, her voice echoing across the moonlit lawn. "We were meant to be together forever! Adam! ADAM! I LOVE YOU!"
Each word feels like a knife between my shoulder blades, but I keep walking, eyes fixed on the road ahead. Lana squeezes my hand, a silent reassurance that I'm doing the right thing.
"Don't look back," she whispers, guiding me toward her car parked just beyond the property line.
But I can still hear Morgan's broken sobs behind us, her screams dissolving into hiccupping cries that grow fainter with each step we take. Part of me wants to turn around to see if she's following, but I resist the urge. Looking back would only give her hope where there is none.