Chapter 1: Shattered Illusions

Abigail’s POV

“Oh, yes!” I heard a moaning through the door and I froze.

Office 3. I found the number on the door and I smiled nervously as I got closer, eager to surprise Max and start our Valentine’s celebration early. But as I was about to get ahold of the door’s handle, I noticed it was not fully closed, and I heard a moan and my body shuddered.

My hands started shaking, together with the bottle of wine I was bringing to celebrate our Valentine’s day.

It can’t be, can it? Max was cheating on me with another woman?!

Yet again Max's moans and the sound of flesh and flesh clashing inside the door proved it was all true.

I took two steps forward and stopped with my hand on the doorknob. He'd left the door half open - it was his private office, and it was late enough that the staff was off duty.

Just push that door open and I'll see for myself that Max is scum.

As I thought of the time we'd spent together from college to now, my feet stopped there and I didn’t have the courage to move forward. I rubbed my heart to steady my breathing and tried to stay silent as tears slid down the corners of my eyes.

I was a stupid cliche now, the lame girlfriend discovering her boyfriend had cheated her with someone else.

Why? Why would Max do this to me? Was it because we tried many times to have sex but we just couldn't? I failed to get him attracted to me enough? Was this why he went looking for another woman?

Max and I established a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship in college, until now when we graduated and started to work, and our relationship has been very good, though uneventful. Even Max has never cheated on me with a woman, and he doesn't even have any friends of the opposite sex. I couldn’t figure out what woman made him cheat.

Another moan made me hold my breath, and the curiosity of wanting to see what kind of woman was pleasing my boyfriend just took the best of me.

The scent of expensive cologne, a familiar scent that I had always associated with Max's warmth and charm, now hung heavy in the air, mingling with the musky aroma of sex, a sickening and undeniable proof of the intimacy they were sharing.

I clenched my fists tightly, letting my nails sink into my palms. Careful not to give away my whereabouts, I set my bag and the bottle of wine on the floor and opened the door a crack. My heart pounded as I looked toward his office, even though a voice in the back of my head growled, telling me to get out of the way. But I couldn't.

I caught a glimpse of the office, a space that was usually so neat and organized, now left in complete disarray.

Papers were scattered across the desk, chairs overturned, and clothes tossed across the floor. He's a wealthy second-generation, spoiled rich kid who didn’t even utter vulgarities in daily life. It was a scene of passionate abandon, a stark contrast to the carefully controlled image Max always presented to the world.

Max's jeans were piled up around his ankles, his hands were the man's disheveled hair, and when Max forced the man to lift his head, and when the man tilted his neck, I saw the man's face in a flash-blue eyes, thin lips, and that black mole on his cheek, and oh my God, it couldn't have been more familiar.

Blake！

Max’s best friend！

It was not a woman who was having sex with Max, it was a man!

My stomach churned.

Max groaned, "On your knees."

My eyes fell on Blake, who was kneeling in front of Max. His college roommate and my friend. He was bare-legged, his lower half naked, and he was kneeling on the floor with his hands on Max's erect c*ck. The white shirt barely covered his ass, and his black tie was a little wrinkled, and Max was tugging on it like a puppy's leash.

"I'm ready to drip c*m on your tongue in a minute." Max yanked hard on Blake's tie and Blake was forced to tilt his head back and grin.

I quickly wiped away the tears that flowed down my face from my anger.

We were the envy of many, a golden couple that seemed to have it all. The popular athlete and the intelligent, beautiful sorority girl, a match made in campus heaven. Girls would whisper and giggle as we passed by, their eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and envy.

I knew some of them harbored secret crushes on Max, fantasizing about what it would be like to be in my shoes. But their longing glances and whispered conversations never bothered me. Max always made me feel like the only girl in the world, his attention and affection unwavering.

I was not jealous. Max was so charming and nice to me, I didn’t feel like I needed to worry about what he could do with another girl, he always showed me he had eyes only for me.

Max, ever the gentle, goofy, smart man that would literally get into a fight with a waiter for smiling at me.

Today was Valentine's Day, and it was supposed to be our night as well. Max asked me to celebrate with him, except I came early to surprise him.

I purposely changed into sexy pajamas and even watched a lot of p*rnographic movies just to have an enjoyable and memorable night of s*x with Max.

His gentleness and patience made me want to repay him when I was ready.

But then, as I stood there, frozen in disbelief, the harsh reality of the situation had unceremoniously slapped me in the face, shattering the idealized image I had so carefully constructed.

Max pulled on Blake's tie and pressed Blake's head between his legs. Blake stuck his tongue out and licked his c*ck multiple times before opening his mouth wide and taking the glans in his mouth. A moan escaped Max's throat, "That's it, you are my slut, aren't you?"

Max pulled Blake's head back and placed the glans between his wet lips. "You want to swallow every drop, don't you?"

"Yes, I want to swallow it all." He groaned, sliding his lips down his shaft again.

They had been having s*x for a while, I could see it.

Blake had known Max far longer than I had, meaning they were probably together long before that.

And I was stupid enough to think of Blake as a good friend. Every time Blake went out with Max, I never suspected a thing. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes today, I could never have believed that Max would actually like a man and be with his best friend.

This was so shocking.

I had also volunteered to be intimate with him on one of our trips, and I was eager to make love to him. I remembered being very nervous when I put my hand on Max's p*nis. I wanted to jerk him off, but no matter how hard I tried he couldn't get hard. At the time, I blamed myself and I thought it was my problem. Also from then on, whenever we did slightly more intimate acts, it was awkward.

Max also reassured me that he could wait until he was married to do that and that he never wanted to force me. I had always believed Max was different, that he loved me for who I was, not just for my body.

In my mind, he was an example of a pure person, a fantastic man who had so much love and patience for me and others. If there was only one good man left on this earth, I was convinced it would be Max.

My good friend Ella once said, "Abigail, there's no man who doesn't like sex. If Max isn't interested in being intimate with you, it's either because he's not truly attracted to you or he's physically incapable."

At that time, I vehemently disagreed with my best friend's opinion, dismissing her concerns as overly speculative and rooted in cynicism. I couldn't fathom the possibility of Max being anything but the man I believed him to be.

If I hadn't gotten here early, would Blake have been treating me like an idiot?!Will Max keep deceiving me until we get married?!

A profound sense of hurt washed over me, he had cheated on me, the man I had trusted implicitly, the man I had planned to spend the rest of my life with. Or perhaps even worse, he had used me, exploiting my innocence and naiveté as a shield for his own hidden agenda.

The thought was almost too much to bear.

Max’s strong arms were keeping Blake down, forcing him in a way. He spread his legs wider, I imagined it was to get a better angle and thrust deeper. I heard the hot moans and loud whimpers from Blake and I felt humiliated and angry.

“Harder,” Max said, an order so direct, and I saw Max standing with his back towards me, in all his glory, body glistening with sweat, the man with him, whom I could see, was pleasing him.

“Do you want me to f*ck you? You do, don’t you?” He continued. Max pinned Blake to the couch, his hands kneading Blake's ass with abandon.

I instinctively covered my mouth, attempting to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape my lips. The scene before me was too much to bear, a mock of the love I thought we shared.

Max, his muscles glistening with a sheen of perspiration, gripped Blake's hair, his hips moving in a rhythmic, primal thrust. Blake, eyes locked on Max's, met each thrust with a practiced eagerness, his own body arching in response.

For a moment, my whole world crumbled and hot tears came to my eyes, but I held them back. No, I wouldn't cry, the last tears Max had left before. Abigail Parker would not be sad for Max, ever again.

The rage inside me was brewing, and I was ready to burst in and curse them both, slapping Blake hard, and ruining their lives. But as the thought crossed my mind, so did the faces of Max’s parents, Jason and Katherine, their care and tender attention towards me, even sending me sweet messages of love and well wishes on our special date today.

No, I couldn’t hurt Jason and Katherine like that, so I would have to think of something else. I quietly tossed the red wine into the trash bin, turned around silently, and tiptoed away along the same path I had come.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't control my anger, nor could I drown my sorrow, so as I saw the elevator about to arrive, I changed my mind and smashed the fire alarm then rushed out through the stairs, wiping the tears from my face. I was dressed up and determined to never waste my time grieving over someone like Max.

He was not worth it.

As night fell, I headed toward the club sign for the nightclub in the distance.