Cheat With My Boyfriend Best Friend

Finally, she was mine.

Not just her body, but her heart, too. Her adoration for me sparkled in her eyes. As faint as it seemed, I knew it was inextinguishable.

My chest swelled with satisfaction.

This level of emotion was rare for me. In fact, I always considered myself unnatural because I was always emotionally indifferent and uninterested. Every one of my childhood tutors expected me to kill myself or the people around me. They were certain that I was some kind of sociopath. A freak.

But they were wrong. I had no interest in destroying society.

Who cares about the grass under my feet or the buildings lining the roads?

To me, the world was like an amusement park where I could do anything I wanted. Going to Harvard was as, easy as climbing on a merry-go-round. The world was nothing more than a wh*re with her legs wide open for me.

How could anyone expect me to respect a b*tch like that?

But Olive was different.

Our encounter was just nothing more than an accident, but that led to her becoming my little secret. She’d stolen my heart.

When did I get so interested?

Maybe it was when we met…

No, it wasn’t love at first sight. I just couldn’t help myself. Olive was a beautiful woman with high cheekbones and fiery red hair, but she wasn’t the only beauty I’d ever seen. I’ve met many others-cute, s*xy, blonde, toxic-and I could have any I wanted. For the longest time, I always slept next to a different woman, and when I woke up, I realized I was lying next to a stranger.

But Olive… I was obsessed with her long before I slept with her. Long before I even talked to her.

With those emerald green eyes, she reminded me of my precious Mrs. Dalloway.

Mrs. Dalloway was a snow-white cat I’d met at my

grandfather’s grave in the cemetery. I tried to pet her pearly fur, but she slipped away, jumped up a tree, and looked down at me lazily.

She rejected me.

visit her at my grandfather’s tombstone. Around that time, I finished the book “Mrs. Dalloway,” which I named her after. The white

entire time, she ate my food, yet refused

visiting her every

looked warily at

1841

to my decaying soul

that there were many things in this world that even I couldn’t

Like Mrs. Dalloway.

Like Olive Woods.

point, we were chatting about the women on the dance floor. In this place

the chick in the

in a short dark green dress. She was s*xy for sure, and she definitely knew how to flaunt it. Her breasts and thighs were practically

you liked redheads. Let me guess,

was lost in thought as I stared at the woman in green. She would’ve looked better if she had green eyes. Green eyes like her dress. Green

reality, and I

absentmindedly. “I’ll pay

me,

“Go for it.”

didn’t take any of those

after, for that

you in on

Seeing you naked would

down all of his invites for the whole

only had

laughed maniacally. “It’s worse than I thought! You’re in

Was I?

I in love with