Still His on the Island

I saw him before the ceremony even started and I already knew I was going to do something stupid.

The wedding was for my cousin, a big outdoor thing on the island with the reception running late. Sea wind kept lifting the hem of my dress during the vows. I had on a soft blue dress and I was trying to be the version of myself that made sense. The one who flew in for family. The one who smiled for pictures. The one who went home to something steady.

Marcus had texted while I was getting ready. “Flight go okay? Send me a picture later so I can see how good you look. I’m proud of you for going.” Warm. Simple. The kind of message that reminded me I was supposed to be building something real. I almost believed it.

I posed for a few photos with my aunt and cousins after the ceremony. My aunt fixed a piece of hair that kept falling in my face and told me I looked beautiful. I smiled and tried to stay present. I even opened Marcus’s text again and almost sent him a picture of the venue. Then I saw Tyrell standing with one of the groomsmen near the bar. A woman in a gold dress stood beside him, close enough to look familiar but not close enough for me to understand what she was to him. I assumed she was another guest. Maybe one of the groom’s cousins. My stomach flipped anyway. I told myself to stay away. I had already blocked his number twice. I still didn’t walk in the other direction.

After the vows he found me near the bar. He stepped close enough that I could smell his cologne. For a second neither of us said anything. The string lights reflected in his eyes. He looked at me the same way he used to when he already knew what I was going to do before I did.

“That dress is working,” he said low. “You still got that spot on your left hip that makes your whole body jump when I put my mouth on it?”

My face went hot. Nobody else knew about that spot. I could have turned and left. I stayed right there.

He didn’t rush. He just stood close enough that every time someone passed behind me I felt his presence more. I asked him what he was doing here. He said he was invited through a mutual friend of the groom. I asked if he was staying long. He looked at me and said, “Long enough.” I should have walked away then. Instead I let the conversation stretch. He asked if I was still living in the same city. I answered. He asked if I was happy. I didn’t answer that one. The whole time the woman in the gold dress stayed in my peripheral vision, talking to other guests, never looking our way for long.

The reception got loud. People were drinking and dancing under the string lights. I sat through the welcome toast with my aunt and cousin. Tyrell was visible across the lawn the entire time, the woman in gold standing near him. I clapped when everyone else clapped. I smiled when the camera turned our way. Inside I was already calculating how far I could let this go before it became irreversible.

Later, when the sun was going down and most of the guests were already drunk on the dance floor, he nodded toward the parking lot. I followed him. I told myself it was just to tell him this couldn’t happen. I knew exactly what I was doing when I got in the back of his car.

The door shut. I opened my knees before he touched me. When his hand moved beneath my dress, I lifted my hips and met him halfway. Dancehall bass and tree frogs filled the air outside. He reached over to the console and pulled out a pack of condoms like he had never doubted for a second that I was going to let him fuck me tonight. That part landed hard. He came prepared. He knew I was still weak for him.

I watched him roll it on. I turned around on the seat myself, pulled my dress up over my ass, and got on my knees. I raised my chin before his hand closed around my throat, giving him the permission he already knew how to read. He pushed in deep from behind, one hand gripping my hip hard enough to leave marks and the other wrapped tight on my throat. He fucked me hard and fast while the music thumped outside. I came quick, biting my own arm so I wouldn’t make noise, pushing back on him the whole time like I needed it. He kept going until he came, throbbing inside the condom while he was still buried in me. I felt every pulse. He pulled out careful, no mess, and I fixed my dress with my legs still shaking.

I walked back into that reception with nothing showing on the outside but knowing I had just crossed the line on purpose.

My aunt found me near the dessert table a few minutes later. “Where did you disappear to?” she asked, smiling. “I was looking for you for pictures.” I told her I just needed some air. She accepted it. I stood with her and my cousin while they talked about the cake and the speeches still to come. My face still felt warm. I could still feel his hand around my throat, though nothing showed yet.

Marcus called while I was still standing there. I looked at the screen. Across the lawn Tyrell was watching me. He didn’t move. He just watched. I let the phone ring twice more, then rejected the call. A second later Tyrell’s text came through. “Good girl.”

Marcus loved the woman I was trying to become. Tyrell knew the one I kept lying about.

I put the phone back in my bag without answering.

A few minutes later another text arrived. “Come to the side of the bar when you get a chance.” I stayed where I was for almost ten minutes. I talked to my cousin. I took a drink from a server. I went to the side of the bar.

Tyrell didn’t say much at first. He just stood close enough that his arm brushed mine whenever someone walked past. Once, when a group of guests moved between us and the rest of the reception, his hand slid under the back of my dress for half a second and gripped. Then it was gone. The woman in the gold dress walked by a little later. She glanced at him, then at me, and kept walking. I couldn’t tell if she had seen anything.

Marcus texted again. “Everything okay? You’re quiet tonight.” I stared at the message. Tyrell was still standing a few feet away, talking to someone else but watching me from the corner of his eye. I typed back that the reception was loud and I would call him later. I didn’t call him.

I had another chance to leave when my aunt said she was going inside for the speeches and asked if I was coming. I told her I would be right there. I stayed outside. Tyrell found me again near the edge of the lights.

“Marcus, right?”

I stopped walking. “How do you know his name?”

“Heard you were getting serious.”

“So you came here to do what?”

He glanced toward the woman in gold. “Remind you that serious don’t change everything.”

“Who is she?”

“If it mattered enough, you would’ve left already.”

He looked toward the hallway. “Room off the main hall is empty. Come if you still want to talk.”

I followed him. When we reached the room, I stepped inside first. I closed the door. I locked it myself.

This time it was slower. Meaner. He had me against the wall first, then bent over a table. I handed him my phone and told him to press record. He held it while he fucked me from behind, talking low the whole time. When he had me right on the edge he pulled me up so my back was against his chest and made me look at the camera.

“Say it,” he said.

I knew what he wanted. I said it anyway.

“This pussy is still yours.”

He kept going after that, using me like he had never stopped owning it. When he was close he stayed deep and said, “You think I came here alone?”

That was when it hit. The woman in the gold dress was actually with him. She was here. And he had still come for me.

He finished inside the condom while he was still buried in me, holding me there until he was done. Before I left the room he pulled my dress down and put his mouth on the side of my neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark right where it would show if the fabric shifted.

I went back out and had to stand for the photographs. The sea breeze kept lifting my hair off my neck. My aunt was fixing my necklace. The woman in the gold dress stepped over to help straighten the back of my dress. Her fingers brushed the mark. She paused. I felt the exact second she noticed. For a moment I wondered if she knew, if he had done this before, if she was protecting him or silently warning me. Then she quietly said, “Your necklace slipped,” and kept fixing the fabric like nothing was wrong. The calm in her voice sat heavier than any accusation could have.

I stood there while the photographer kept shooting. I kept thinking about the pictures. How close the mark was to the edge of the frame. Whether Marcus might see any of them later. Whether the woman would say something after the photos were done. She didn’t. She just stepped back and let the next group move into place.

Later, when I was alone for a minute, Marcus called this time.

Across the room, Tyrell lifted his glass. His woman stood beside him, already watching me.

I saw the trap. I knew exactly what waited inside it. Then I silenced Marcus’s call and held Tyrell’s gaze.