The results weren’t good. Her muscles were showing early signs of fatigue and loss of tone—classic wear and tear. Things were not holding up well.
“You and your boyfriend really need to stop. Or at least tone it down, or it’s going to get you—”
Before I could finish the sentence, she snapped.
“You’re just jealous because I actually know how to enjoy life, while you’re trapped in your miserable little bubble!”
She wasn’t going to let go of Owen. That much was clear. She never could stand the idea of me being happy. Over the years, anytime a guy showed the slightest interest in me, she’d swoop in like a hawk, flaunting her charm until he forgot I even existed. It wasn’t about love—not for her. It was about winning. Always proving she was somehow better.
I gave her a sweet little smile. “Suit yourself. I’ll prescribe you something to help with the pain.”
She left with a tube of medicated ointment and sure enough, after a few applications, she said things felt much better. Which only made her bolder. She doubled down, sneaking out more often, chasing that high like it was oxygen.
But the party didn’t last long.
Aunt Hannah eventually caught on. Maybe it was the way Alison kept vanishing in the middle of the night. Maybe it was the increasingly suspicious excuses. Either way, one night, the jig was up. Aunt Hannah laid down the law and put her on lockdown.
With his playmate suddenly under house arrest, Owen had no choice but to come crawling back to me.
He texted me that he was “back from his business trip.”
What a shame.
I replied with a breezy, “Oh no, what a coincidence! I just booked a trip for work—beachside retreat this time!”
And every single day on that beach, I kept the game going. Flirty messages. Double-meaning photos. And just for fun, I signed him up on every mailing list and dating site I could find.
Just as I expected, once he couldn’t get his hands on my cousin anymore, Owen came crawling right back—only this time, he wasn’t looking for love. He was looking for release.
He spiraled fast. Late-night parties, sketchy hookups, wild purchases—his online cart turned into a parade of increasingly bizarre toys. I took screenshots of everything, documenting it like a case file— using it as ammo.
Then I broke up with him.