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.

her at my grandfather’s tombstone. Around that time, I finished the book “Mrs.

time, she ate my food, yet

I insisted on visiting her every day

green eyes still looked warily at me. It

1841

my decaying soul beneath

that there were many things in this world that

Like Mrs. Dalloway.

Like Olive Woods.

that realization during a c*cktail party. Jake and I had gotten bored of the subpar champagne, and at that point, we were chatting about the women on the dance floor. In this place of hypocrisy and lies, the only

bet your type is the chick in

over to a woman dancing in a short dark green dress. She was s*xy for sure, and

come on. She is your type, isn’t she? I thought you liked redheads. Let me guess, you’re probably attracted to Nicole Kidman too, huh? G*d, she was incredible in

green. She would’ve looked better if she had green eyes.

voice snapped me back to reality, and I

apologized absentmindedly. “I’ll pay for

wanna compensate me, you let me have the

“Go for it.”

take any of those women

after, for that

you in on a

you

for the whole month, Jake

I only had

“It’s worse than

Was I?

in love with Olive