Maple Lane, once quiet, now throbbed with a different kind of pulse.
The night air was thick — humid with the residue of past confessions and repressed hunger. Windows were closed, curtains drawn, yet behind the glass, shadows moved like silk against silk. Some kissed. Some wept. Some… watched.
Claire hadn't slept.
She stood by her bedroom mirror, fingers resting lightly against her throat, where Veronica had pressed her thumb just hours earlier. Not violently. Just enough to let her know — you belong to me again. And that's what haunted her.
She hadn't told Nina. Couldn't.
Her phone buzzed once.
"Come over. Wear nothing under your coat." – V
Claire's pulse quickened. No goodnight. No foreplay. Just command. Veronica was stepping into her full power, and Claire — God help her — wanted to obey.
Meanwhile, across the street, Nina lay curled in the armchair, a wine glass full but untouched. Her eyes were on the window. Claire's light had gone out, then flickered again. Her stomach turned.
Something had changed.
Claire's lips had been warmer, yes. But her gaze had cooled — like she was learning to lie with them now. Nina could feel another woman's breath still clinging to Claire's skin.
She opened her phone. No message. No call. Just the emptiness of being forgotten.
Then… a knock.
She jolted.
When she opened the door, it was Gloria.
"Nina. I… I saw your light on. You okay, sweetheart?"
Her voice was gentle, but sharp-eyed. Nina almost collapsed into her arms. Gloria stepped in and closed the door.
"Something's wrong," Gloria whispered, brushing Nina's cheek like a mother, like a lover. "You don't have to say it. I already know."
Back in Veronica's house, the front door was left unlocked. Claire stepped in, wrapped in nothing but a long black trench coat and heels. Her skin prickled at the temperature shift — cool air against overheated flesh.
Veronica didn't greet her. She simply stood near the fireplace, one arm resting over the mantel, the other holding a glass of red wine. She was barefoot, wearing only a silk robe that slipped down one shoulder, revealing skin that shimmered like heat lightning.
Claire approached, slowly.
"You didn't ask if I wanted to come."
"I didn't have to."
Veronica turned, stepped forward, and with one motion, opened Claire's coat — letting it fall to the floor in silence.
Claire stood naked before her, breath hitching.
"You still know how to make an entrance," Veronica said, circling her like prey. "But let's see if you remember how to beg."
Her voice was a low command. Erotic. Cruel. Claire's knees weakened.
"I'm not begging," Claire whispered, but her voice betrayed her.
Veronica smiled. "Not yet."
And with that, she pushed Claire down onto the fur rug. Her hands were slow — dragging down Claire's body, memorizing it like scripture — but her mouth was fire. She kissed like a woman with something to prove. Claire moaned, louder than she meant to, arching up into the dominance.
Every inch of her was seen. Exposed. Taken.
Across the street, Gloria sat beside Nina, watching her tremble.
"She's with Veronica, isn't she?" Nina whispered.
Gloria didn't lie. "She is."
Nina choked a sob.
"Then I was never enough."
Gloria touched her chin, turning her face toward her. "That's not true. You are too much. Too real. That scares women like Claire. It used to scare me too."
"You?"
"I used to live like you. Waiting by the window for someone to come back who'd already gone," Gloria murmured. "But Nina… you don't have to be the one watching anymore."
Their faces were inches apart. Gloria leaned in slowly — not in hunger, but in offering. Nina didn't flinch.
Their lips met. Gently. Then deeper. Softer. Then — urgent.
Nina gasped into Gloria's mouth, a tremble surging through her. It wasn't love. It wasn't revenge. It was release. Fingers curled into Gloria's robe, lips hungry, pain spilling into touch.
I'm still here, Nina's kiss said.I'll teach you how to survive it, Gloria's mouth promised back.
Later, back in Veronica's home, Claire lay sprawled on the rug, body glistening, throat sore from moaning Veronica's name. Her inner thighs ached in the most beautiful way.
Veronica stood, lighting a cigarette in her silk robe, gazing down.
"Welcome back," she said simply.
Claire looked up, her voice raw. "I'm not back."
"You never left," Veronica smirked. "You just needed to be reminded who you are."
Claire's eyes fluttered shut. Because somewhere, deep inside… she feared that might be true.