Part One
- should have known better -

It's always his hands I remember the most.

Strong. Steady. Seeking.

Edward's hands on another as he took her from behind.

It's the grip he had on her hips. It's the way his hand—the one weighted with our symbol of monogamy—slid around the curve of her waist and dipped between her legs to make it good for her.

That's what I can't unsee.

And I've tried. I tried so fucking hard to just… forget. To let go and move on.

But I couldn't.

I can't.

So I left him.

I moved from Seattle to Los Angeles.

Tried to distance myself—physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Tried to start a new life.

Immersed myself in new people, places, and things.

And yet that night is still there, branded in my memory. A blazing, blistered burn forever etched in my mind.

Pounding and pleasure and passion.

The smallest, sensual squeeze of her hips. His long fingers pressing into her soft flesh.

The soft flesh of my heart squeezed.



And the worst part is, I have no one to blame but myself.

Okay, so. Hear me outthis is not a cheat fic. I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A CHEAT FIC.

That being said, I know this won't be for everyone, which is exactly why I write for myself :)

Anyway, I'm pretty sure half the fandom has already read this story. I was so worried about it that I sent it to a lotttttt of people, and they all encouraged me to post it. If you read this as an unofficial prereader, thank you for not flouncing me lol

To all of the ladies who did officially pre-read - thank you for your help and for trusting me! Major love and thanks to Lizzie Paige, too, for making the brilliant banner.

If you have questions about the story just PM me. Happy to answer whatever.