It had almost become a routine.
He would come to me at night, take what he wanted and what, deep down, I was already offering. Then by morning, we'd all be at the table. Eating like nothing happened.
I'd sit across from him, spoon in hand, barely tasting the food. His foot might brush mine under the table. Or maybe not. Maybe he'd just sit there, relaxed, casual, cracking jokes with his dad or scrolling through his phone while the taste of me still lingered on his tongue.
And me?
I'd sit there, sore and silent.
My thighs are sticky with memory.
My heart was pounding for reasons I couldn't say out loud.
No one noticed or maybe they did and just chose not to speak.
The room would be filled with the clatter of cutlery, forced laughter, steam rising from bowls. And in the middle of it all, my body would still be aching from what he'd done hours before.
Sometimes, I'd look at him, trying to find guilt in his face. There was none. Just ease. Control. Confidence.
Like I belonged to him.
Like my silence was proof I agreed
The spoon in my hand barely stirred in my bowl. I wasn't hungry, but I ate anyway slow, automatic, like I was trying to pretend my body didn't still feel his from the night before.
Josh sat across from me, saying nothing. He didn't have to. His silence was louder than anything he could've said.
Then, from the far end of the table, his father Uncle Benny cleared his throat and looked directly at me.
So, he said casually, like he was asking about the weather, how are you feeling?
My hand paused mid-stir.
I'm fine, I said softly, eyes still on my bowl.
You sure? he asked, sipping from his cup. You've looked a little tired lately. Thought maybe the changes were getting to you.
Changes.
The word hung heavy in the air.
Josh didn't flinch. He kept eating, like this was just another morning.
Uncle Benny continued, tone still calm, almost kind. I did you take the pills I gave you?
I froze.
My spoon dropped into the bowl with a soft splash. My heart kicked against my chest like it had been caught doing something wrong.
I… yes I did, I murmured.
He nodded slowly. "You should. If anything starts growing inside you, it becomes harder to explain. You understand that, don't you?
My mouth was dry. I nodded.
He smiledgentle, fatherly, terrifying. Good girl.
Josh finally looked up. His eyes met mine for a second. He didn't smile, didn't speak, but I saw something there. Approval. Ownership. Maybe even amusement.
The room felt too small.
Too quiet.
I picked up my spoon again and kept eating, even though the food tasted like heavenly.
Even though my body was screaming under my clothes.
Even though I couldn't tell if I was still part of myself anymore or just something passed between them in silence.
The moment I got upstairs and shut my door, I locked it. My legs barely carried me to the bed before I sank down, chest rising and falling like I'd run from something.
I hadn't said a word at the table. I couldn't. My mouth had gone dry, my stomach twisting with something uglier than hunger.
I pulled my knees up to my chest and sat in the corner of the bed, arms wrapped around myself. I could still hear Uncle Benny's voice in my head If anything starts growing inside you
I didn't even know which was worse:
That he knew.
That he approved.
Or that none of this shocked me anymore.
Tears slipped out before I could hold them back. Quiet. Slow. The kind you cry when your soul is folding in on itself, not from pain, but from realizing you've stopped feeling anything at all.
I pressed my hand between my thighs like I was trying to close what had already been opened too far. Like I was trying to undo what couldn't be undone.
I wasn't sure if I was angry. I wasn't sure if I deserved to be.
Maybe I let this happen. Maybe I said yes too many times without meaning to. Maybe I liked it. Maybe
that made me dirty. Maybe I didn't want to stop.
And maybe...
That scared me the most.
In the kitchen, Uncle Benny leaned against the counter, watching Josh rinse a plate at the sink.
She has taken them , he said casually.
Josh smirked. She have
You sure?
Josh didn't answer immediately. He dried his hands with a towel and leaned back, eyes sharp but relaxed.
She's scared, he said finally. But not of me.
Uncle Benny raised a brow. No?
Josh looked toward the ceiling. "She's scared of how much she likes it.
Benny let out a dry chuckle, exhaling smoke through his nose. You've got her wrapped around you, then.
Josh gave a slow nod. Not just wrapped. She's drowning.
There was silence for a moment. Then Benny spoke again, his voice low and unreadable.
Just be careful. Girls like that… once they wake up to what's really going on, they either stay yours forever or ruin everything."
Josh's jaw tightened just slightly.
"She's not going anywhere