By Friday night, I was a nervous wreck. My “test drive” with Alex felt like walking into an exam I hadn’t studied for, except the stakes were higher because failure came with the added bonus of public humiliation—and possibly heartbreak.
I dumped half my wardrobe onto my bed, agonizing over what to pack. Every outfit had to do double duty: hide my unflattering bits and give off a casual, “Oh, this old thing?” vibe. I stuffed my bag with fat-smoothing underwear, baggy pajamas (just in case I had to be “quirky”), and my trusty makeup bag, even though I knew I’d spend most of the weekend silently panicking about him seeing me naked in actual daylight.
When I arrived at Alex’s apartment, I had to pause outside the door for a moment to collect myself. His place wasn’t just an apartment—it was a modern, glass-walled temple to success. The kind of place that screamed, I’m better than you, and here’s the architectural proof.
Alex opened the door, holding a glass of wine and flashing his usual cocky grin. “Welcome to my humble abode, Hollis,” he said, stepping aside to let me in. “Feel free to get comfortable. Or don’t. I kind of like you on edge.”
I laughed nervously, clutching my bag like a security blanket as I stepped into his sleek living room. Everything about his apartment was perfect—minimalist furniture, sparkling city views, and not a single out-of-place cushion. It was like a showroom for a life I didn’t belong in.
“Wow,” I said, setting my bag down by the couch. “This is… nice. Very… glassy.”
Alex chuckled, leaning casually against the counter. “Would you like a tour, or are you too intimidated by the lack of clutter?”
I rolled my eyes, finally managing to relax a little as I accepted the wine he handed me.
The next morning, I woke up in his impossibly soft bed, sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. For a moment, I felt like I was in some glamorous rom-com. Then I remembered I wasn’t a morning person and promptly panicked about looking like a gremlin.
I scrambled out of bed and rushed to the bathroom, dragging my makeup bag with me. Standing in front of the mirror, I slapped on concealer, mascara, and blush with the urgency of someone defusing a bomb. I was halfway through fixing my hair when Alex appeared in the doorway, shirtless and still half-asleep.
“You know I like you just as you are, right?” he said, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.
I froze, my mascara wand hovering in midair. “Well, some of us need a bit more help in the mornings.”
He crossed the room in a few strides, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me against him. “You’re perfect to me, Hollis,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “Now, come here.”
I blushed furiously as he kissed me, my hands instinctively finding their way to his chest. We ended up fooling around in the bathroom, the mirror fogging up as the tension melted away. For a brief, blissful moment, I let myself believe that maybe this could actually work.
Then I saw it.
A small gold leaf earring, sitting innocently on the counter.
My stomach dropped.
“Uh, Alex,” I said, holding it up. “This… isn’t mine.”
He glanced at the earring, his expression completely unfazed. “Oh, that? Probably from some cleaning lady or, you know, a… previous conquest.”
Previous conquest. The words hit like a slap, but I forced myself to laugh. “Right. Of course. Just a cleaning lady.”
Alex grinned, running his fingers through my hair. “Relax, Hollis. You’re the one here now.”
I smiled weakly, trying to push the thought aside, but the damage was already done. The earring was like a flashing neon sign, reminding me that I was just one in a long line of “conquests” who had walked through these pristine glass walls.
Later, as I sat on his couch with a cup of coffee, Alex sprawled out beside me, I couldn’t help but wonder: was this what I wanted? To be “the one here now,” knowing I could just as easily be replaced?
Alex leaned over and kissed my temple, murmuring something about how he had a surprise planned for later. I smiled back at him, but my chest felt heavy.
If I was the one here now, how long would it be before I wasn’t?