Chapter 1
NADIA
"YOUR BOYFRIEND IS FUCKING SOMEONE ELSE!"
I stared at the note in my hands, reading the words over and over, wondering if I was somehow reading them wrong.
Someone had slipped it under the door of my dorm room after my last class. The handwriting was uneven, as if whoever wrote it had been shaking too.
My hands wouldn't stop trembling. I read it again. And again. This had to be some sick joke. That was the only explanation. Some jealous girl who wanted my boyfriend for herself—there were always girls hanging around the hockey team. Or maybe this had something to do with Cole. People still talked about how close we used to be before Hunter came into my life. Jealousy made people do awful things. That had to be it.
I crumpled the paper in my fist, my heart pounding painfully in my chest. Three years. I had given Hunter three years of my life. Three years of believing he was the one. The one who understood me, the one who made the stress of PT grad school and all my family problems easier to deal with.
He was the star center. The golden boy on the ice. The guy who scored winning goals and loved me more than anyone ever had.
I had loved him so much it scared me sometimes. I loved the way he'd pull me into his lap after games, still smelling like sweat, and tell me I was his good luck charm. I loved how he made me feel wanted, like I mattered.
I wasn't about to let some anonymous message ruin that. I couldn't. Not after everything.
Still, I felt sick as I grabbed my keys. I called him. Straight to voicemail. I left a message, trying to sound calmer than I felt.
“Hey, it's me. Call me back. There's this weird note and… just call me, okay?”
The drive to the apartment we shared off-campus felt longer than usual. The late afternoon sun stretched across the windshield, but I couldn't focus on any of it.
I trusted him. I did trust him.
Hunter had his flaws. He was cocky, and sometimes he got distant when hockey season got intense. But he wasn't a cheater. The note had to be bullshit.
By the time I pulled into the parking lot, my palms were sweaty against the steering wheel. Everything looked normal. The brick building. The flickering light in the lobby. The smell of weed drifting from someone's window. I unlocked the door with my spare key. The apartment was dim, the curtains partly closed. Hunter's hockey bag was lying by the door like always, his sticks sticking out.
“Hunter?”
My voice sounded quiet in the silence.
No answer.
But I could hear the shower running in the bathroom connected to the bedroom. I let out a slow breath, trying to calm myself.
I kicked off my shoes and walked toward the bedroom automatically. With every step, my heart beat faster. The door was slightly open. I pushed it wider. The bed was made. His jersey from last night's game was folded neatly on the chair.
Then I heard it.
I actually heard it.
Moans.
Low sounds mixed with the noise of the shower. Grunts. A moan that definitely wasn't pain. The sound of skin slapping against skin.
My stomach dropped.
Before I could even think, my feet were already moving. The bathroom door wasn't completely shut.
I pushed it open and almost lost my balance when I saw what was in front of me.
My boyfriend, Hunter had another guy bent over the shower bench, water pouring over both of them. His hips moved hard and fast as he drove into the other man.
His hand was tangled in the guy’s wet hair, pulling his head back as he kept moving.
The stranger's fingers slid against the wet tiles, his moans turning into shaky gasps. Hunter's back moved with every thrust, water running over the familiar body I had touched, kissed, and loved for three fucking years.
My boyfriend was cheating on me...with a man.
My phone slipped from my numb fingers and hit the tile floor with a crack.
Hunter's head snapped up. His eyes went wide.
“Nadia...fuck!”
He stopped immediately. The other guy shot upright, grabbed a towel, and rushed past me, his face hidden behind the fabric as he muttered curses under his breath. A few seconds later, I heard the front door slam.
Hunter stood there naked, still hard, water dripping from his hair onto the floor.
“Baby, wait. It's not...Jesus, let me explain.”
“Explain?”
The word came out rough. I could barely hear anything except the sound of my own heartbeat.
How do you even react after catching your boyfriend having sex with another man? How do you react after realizing your boyfriend might never have wanted you at all?
Three years.
Three fucking years.
Three years of loyalty. Of late-night conversations about his dream of going pro. Of supporting him through losses and injuries. Of sharing his bed night after night.
My voice shook.
“You piece of shit. You fucking piece of shit...”
The shock slowly turned into anger. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to scream until my voice gave out. Instead, my legs were shaking so badly I had to hold onto the doorframe to stay standing.
“How long?” I demanded. “How fucking long have you been doing this behind my back?”
Hunter stepped out of the shower and reached for me.
I jumped back so fast I hit the wall.
“Don't you dare touch me!”
“Keep your voice down,” he snapped, grabbing my arm.
His fingers dug painfully into my skin. Water from his body soaked my sleeve, making me shiver.
“What's it like?” I laughed bitterly. “I loved you, Hunter. I gave you everything. My time, my trust, every part of myself I thought was safe with you. And you're in here fucking some random guy while I'm working my ass off for a future I actually thought we were building together?”
His grip tightened.
Pain shot through my arm. I wished I could disappear. Pretend none of this was happening. My legs shook so badly I had to lock my knees just to stay upright.
This couldn't be real.
This was the man I had planned a life with...late-night talks about moving into a better place once he went pro, picking out furniture together, talking about finally making it official after graduation.
The same man who convinced me to cut off Cole—my best friend, my safe place...because, “He's toxic, babe. He wants what's mine.”
And I'd believed him.
Every single word.
God, I'd been so fucking stupid.
The truth hit me hard. It brought back hurts I thought I'd gotten over years ago. Tears stung my eyes, but I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood.
I wasn't going to cry.
Not here. Not for him.
Hunter grabbed his phone from the counter with his free hand. Water still dripped from it as he shoved the screen in my face, scrolling frantically.
My brows furrowed in confusion and impatience...
A video started playing.
My own voice filled the steamy bathroom.
“Hunter...yes, just like that...”
My stomach dropped.
The angle was from above. A hidden camera. Probably somewhere in our bedroom.
I was completely naked on our bed, legs spread, my back arched in pleasure.
My knees almost gave out.
I covered my mouth as nausea hit me.
“What the fuck...?”
The words barely came out.
“What... how did you...? Are you fucking insane, Hunter?”
I felt sick. Humiliated and furious.
"You made a video of us having sex?" I shrieked, "Why...why the fuck would you do that?"
"Because I knew it would come in handy," he shrugged dismissively.
There was no single hint of remorse in his face. And in that moment, I wondered if I actually knew this man in front of me.
I had trusted him with every part of me, and he'd turned that trust into a weapon.
“You know what's funny, Nadia?” he sneered, his voice low. “You don't know shit about satisfying a man. Look at yourself, begging like a desperate little slut.”
His mouth twisted into that familiar cocky smirk, and suddenly it made my skin crawl.
“And I swear, if you say one fucking word, I'll post this everywhere. Social media. Your program director at the PT clinic. Your family. Everyone. They'll all see what you really are. So keep your mouth shut, Nadia. Be a good girl for once and don't ruin my championship game.”
I felt dizzy.
I wanted to throw up.
I wanted to grab his phone and smash it against the floor.
How many times had I lain beside him, feeling loved while he'd been planning this? Laughing at me?
The betrayal hurt so much I could barely breathe. I fought hard to keep myself from breaking down right there.
“You disgust me,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “I wasted three years on a liar who can't even be honest about who the hell he wants to fuck. You never loved me. You just...you just wanted me as your cover story.”
He opened his mouth—
But the front door suddenly clicked open.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway.
“Hey, babe,” a familiar voice called. “I brought your favorite post-practice snacks. Figured you'd be done with...everything by now.”
I froze.
Every muscle in my body went stiff.
I knew that voice.
I'd know it anywhere.
Alice.
My little sister.
