I wasn't wrong, Antonio was fucking someone. He had his back to the door, his hips swaying back and forth as he slammed into her. She was seated on his desk facing the door, so I could see the sheer feeling of ecstasy that masked her look.

 

I wasn't supposed to be watching, I wasn't supposed to be getting pissed off by what was going on, I wanted to leave, but my feet stayed glued to the marble floor beneath me. My eyes felt itchy with tears. Why was I feeling so hurt anyways? He isn't even my boyfriend.

 

 

She opened her eyes and they met with mine. I didn't...