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I told her it was a mistake and went upstairs.
I lay in our bed with my hand over my eyes, my cock still throbbing, hating myself. Through the wall I heard her come up, close the door, and cry. It was small and wet and muffled. I put the pillow over my head and thought about knocking.
I didn’t. I’m not sure whether that was virtue or cowardice.
At seven I came down to find Jess in the hall in her coat with her suitcases packed. Her eyes were swollen.
“Marcie’s got a sofa,” she said brightly. “Hannah knows. I told her I’d be too much of a nightmare for a whole fortnight. She cried, the soppy cow.”
“Jess…”
“For the record.” She stepped close and kissed my cheek. Her mouth was soft and her hand pressed, for just a second, against the front of my jeans. “I’d have said yes. To everything. All night.”
Then she picked up her bags, plucked the red knickers off the radiator, stuffed them in her pocket and said, “Evidence,” and was gone, the door banging in the draught.
Hannah came home at eight and cuddled me, smelling of toast, and said it was such a shame, she’d loved having Jess around.
That night I lay in the big bed with my wife asleep beside me and the wall quiet at last. I came into my own hand at three, silent, in the dark, thinking of a dimple and a red thong, and I wasn’t sure which of us I was betraying.
Ending 5 of 16: Quiet Wall. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.