On My Exs Brothers Bed

Ruby's POV

The silk of John's suit jacket felt smooth under my fingers as I reached into the pocket to check for the room key he said he'd misplaced. Instead, my fingers brushed against something small, curved, and unmistakably rubbery.

I froze.

Pulling it out just enough to confirm, I stared at the bright pink vibrator nestled in his pocket.

My feet were cold on the rug. My heartbeat slow, but heavy.

I didn't say a word. I just tucked it away like it hadn't happened and stepped back, my face blank, my body numb.

John was still in the shower. Steam drifted through the half-closed bathroom door as he hummed to himself, completely unaware. The sound of water hitting tile was almost calming, but inside me, something was breaking.

When he came out, his body was still damp, a towel around his waist. He kissed my neck and called me his baby, telling me that tonight he was going to make me feel how much he loved me.

My skin crawled.

This was the man I'd admired since I was sixteen. The one who used to help me carry my item, the one who once stepped in took a bullet for me.

We'd grown up together. He made me feel like someone worth protecting. Made me feel loved as an orphan, that meant everything to me.

But now, standing in front of him on our wedding night, all I felt was disgust. The image of that vibrator flashed through my mind again, and with it, the ugly suspicion I didn't want to entertain.

Still, I hesitated.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it had been planted there by mistake. Maybe it was part of a joke from one of his groomsmen. Maybe it was nothing.

I hated that I was even trying to justify it.

But the truth was, I didn't want to be intimate with John until I knew for sure. I couldn't. I felt like I would be betraying myself.

"I'm not ready," I said quietly.

He looked hurt. "But we waited... I thought tonight would be special."

"I know. It's just... the wedding was exhausting," I said, forcing a small smile. "Can we just hold each other tonight?"

He stared at me for a second longer, disappointment flickering across his features. Then he nodded and kissed my forehead. "Of course. Whatever you need."

He turned off the light and got into bed beside me.

I lay stiffly under the sheets, trying to breathe through the tangled mess of suspicion and guilt swirling in my chest.

About half an hour passed. I didn't move. I kept my eyes closed, my breathing steady, pretending to be asleep.

I felt him shift.

The faint glow of his phone lit up the room. He turned to the side, unplugged it, and slipped out of bed as quietly as possible. I heard the soft creak of the floor as he crept toward the door, then the almost inaudible click as it closed behind him.

I opened my eyes.

My heart pounded.

I got out of bed slowly, every nerve alert. I didn't change out of my thin nightdress, I just grabbed a coat, slipped on some flats, and followed him out of the hotel suite, moving quickly and silently.

The elevator ride felt like a plunge into cold water. The lobby was quiet, almost eerily so, and I moved past it unnoticed, out into the parking lot behind the hotel.

It didn't take long to find him.

Under the shadow of a tree, near the edge of the lot, John was unlocking the back door of a sleek black sedan.

Lisa was inside.

My heart sank as I saw her clearly. Lisa had been his first love. Mine and John's mutual friend. She had smiled at me earlier that evening, hugged me tightly at the reception, clinked glasses with me during the toasts.

I watched, paralyzed, as John climbed into the back seat beside her.