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I'm no Fool

Author: Garnet
last update publish date: 2026-03-02 00:46:21

Wren

After I rushed out of embarrassment or what felt like sweet shame, I was so thankful the workers who left late did not notice me. I wiped my eyes and felt a rush of heat on my cheeks.

Was that tears of regret or something more...

I did like it, but—

And then it hit me... fuck! I had a boyfriend. How do I face him after what just happened? It's not like he was around when it occurred. But I wouldn't want the guilt to eat me up.

...He's sweet. He'll definitely understand.

"Taxi—" I hailed the cab and gave him my direction.

I noticed the stolen glances the driver shot at me. He was probably thinking I got dumped.

"Miss, you okay?" He looked through the rearview mirror with concern written on his face.

I wiped my face and calmly tried not to reveal my worries. After all, he's a stranger.

"Yeah... yes, I am. Why don't I look okay?" I queried, to be sure not to scare him—or myself.

"Well, you look like hell broke loose on you. But since you said you're fine, then that's good."

He increased the volume of the afrobeat that was playing, for which I was thankful. Minutes into the ride, I heard him call out my destination and indicate we had arrived.

I sat in the car longer than I needed to. Just breathing and hoping what happened wouldn't change things between us.

Finally, I grabbed my bag and stepped out.

The first thing I noticed was the door unlocked.

I stood there for a second, turning my key over in my fingers. I knew I'd locked it. I always lock it. But then again — it could be him or Vivienne.

My heart did that stupid little lift it always does at the thought of him being home. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe I'd walk in, kick off my shoes, and just fall into him for a while. God knows I needed that.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Then I saw the light upstairs bleeding under the door.

That gave me a small pause. I'm not the type to leave lights on — never have been. Could've been him, though. He was always forgetting things like that. I shook it off and started up the stairs, already thinking about what to order for dinner.

I was halfway up when I stopped.

I don't know what made me stop exactly. But my ears were too sharp for the not-so-loud sound. More like something that I didn't think would have happened. It was a rhythm, low and muffled, seeping through the door. My brain tried to reroute it.

But the television wasn't on. He hardly plays any music. Or, the naughty side of me got a hold on me. Realizing—it could be a surprise for me… something reasonable.

But then I heard his voice.

"You're so tight… I've never felt this good in forever."

"Mnn… I… arghh… You're so hot pounding inside me. Fuck… harder."

My mind went blank.

The more I listened, the more everything felt dazed.

No. No, that — he wouldn't. He said he wouldn't. He looked me in my eyes and said it. I stood there with my back pressed against the wall outside that door, breathing like the air had suddenly thinned, telling myself I'd heard wrong. That I was exhausted and paranoid, and my mind was filling in gaps that weren't there.

My hand shook on the knob. Every instinct screamed at me to turn around, to walk out, to pretend I hadn't heard a thing. But my body wouldn't listen.

I pushed the door open anyway.

And there it was. The only man I have ever loved. The only man I was willing to take risks for, willing to ruin my body for — tangled up with my half sister. On my bed. In my house.

The room smelled of sweat and her cheap perfume—the one I'd bought her for her birthday.

"..... when the fuck did you two get cozy enough to fuck on my bed and in my house?" I said, trying as much as possible to sound casual. My chest felt tight, and my fingers began twitching, but the last thing on my mind was getting weak. Not here, not now, and definitely not in front of them.

"Fuck... it—"

"It... it... cat got your tongue?" I finished the sentence, watching him push her away from his body, making her butt hit the cold floor and a sore "ouch" escaped her lips.

"Oh c'mon, Wren, don't act like you would have given him the chance to screw you." My half-sister, Vivienne, shrugged the words out like they were completely normal voices.

"Screw me?" Rage burned up my throat. Not only did I see her skin-to-skin with my fiancé, but she's actually behaving like it was nothing. I can't blame her. I mean, she gave me reasons to see her true self. I guess I was too focused on seeing the good and ignored the negatives. I had for a moment forgotten about... not until I felt his fingers brush my arm.

"Wren, I swear it's just this once. Not like you'd care. See, I love you. Just pretend that you never saw this and it never happened." Disgusted by his hands on me, I swatted them away and looked past him at her, who barely looked like she was going to put on anything for now. The audacity.

"You're my fiancé, for man's sake. Not like I care? What the fuck do you take me for... a fool?" My chest tightened more, with my left fist balled and my knuckles itching to punch that mouth of his for the filth coming out of it.

"To think, I trusted you both and loved you both. Is this what I get in return?" My legs felt wobbly, but I wasn't going to fall weak in front of them. It would prove their victory.

"Tsk... he never loved you, did he?" She asked, her pretense vanished, and the only thing left was raw facts.

"Let me tell you. The reason he accepted to be with you was because I asked him to. You were just convenient." She paused and gave a dark laugh.

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    WrenLeander came home late tonight.I was in the living room when the door opened. The clock on the wall read 11:47 PM. I'd been waiting—not consciously, but I had been. The penthouse felt different when he wasn't there. Emptier. Colder. The silence pressed against my ears like cotton, and the city lights beyond the windows seemed dimmer somehow.I told myself it was because I was still thinking about something else. The transfer. The name I didn't recognize. The mystery that was slowly unraveling.But that was a lie.I was thinking about him.He walked past me without a word.His steps were heavier than usual. His shoulders were tense. He looked like he was carrying something he'd been carrying for a very long time—something that was getting heavier with each passing year. The weight of it was visible in the way he moved, in the set of his jaw, in the shadows that clung to his eyes.He didn't go to his office this time. He didn't go to his room. He walked to the sitting room and sat

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