Nobela ni Najma’s pen

Evelyn's POV.When I got home, Lina was curled on the couch, glasses on, a textbook open in her lap. I dropped my keys on the console and stood there for a second too long, my shoulders aching like I’d been carrying the night with me.“You’re home early,” she said, then took a closer look. “Oh, no. What happened? Did the dress malfunction?”“Worse.” I kicked off my heels, the relief in my feet a small, pathetic comfort. “I proposed to Lucien to be my fake husband.”Lina jumped up and hugged me. “You did it!” she exclaimed, then paused, her hands still on my shoulders as she stared, unblinking. “What’s wrong?”I spilled it all. “He gave me a chance!” I insisted, pacing the worn rug. “The Vanguard Charity Gala. If I can get an invite and get through it flawlessly, he’ll consider it.”Her expression cycled from horror to disbelief to a sort of awe.Lina snorted. “The Vanguard? Evelyn, that’s for philanthropists and old-money heirs. People who own yachts named after their grandmothers.

Evelyn's POV. I tripped over absolutely nothing, my clutch flying from my hand and skittering across the floor to land, with a pathetic thud, against the toe of his shoe.So much for the grand entrance? Fuck it. He looked down at the sequined bag, then slowly, his gaze traveled up to me. Those smoky eyes didn’t look intrigued. They looked mildly, infuriatingly amused.“You lost something,” he said. His voice was lower than the music, a rumble I felt in my teeth.“Planning to keep it?” I blurted out, cringing internally. Evelyn what's wrong with you. One dark eyebrow lifted. He nudged the bag with his foot. I scurried forward, scooping it up, my face burning. “I heard the drinks here are overpriced and watered down,” I said, gesturing vaguely to his glass. “Is that true?” Trying to hold a conversation.He stared at me. “You crashed into a venue to critique the bar stock?”“I’m a critic at heart.” My smile felt glued on. “Of many things.”“How exhausting for you.”Okay. He was a

Evelyn's POV.Six months later.The past six months didn’t change me. They remade me. I learned a different kind of power. I became a financial manager all thanks to Vincent’ insulting five dollars. The pain doesn’t vanish, sometimes it strikes without warning. I let my bag fall on the couch. It landed with a heavy thud, but Lina didn’t look up, her eyes locked on her phone screen.“You’re going to strain your eyes,” I said, my voice tight. “Put that thing down.”Finally, she glanced up, but her expression was relief, not annoyed. “Evie. Come here. Now.”She reached out, her fingers wrapping around my wrist, and pulled me down beside her before I could resist.“Look,” she said, her voice a mixture of urgency and triumph. She pushed her tablet into my hands, her own finger jabbing at the screen. “Just look.”My eyes darted to her tablet, it was a grainy, long-lens photo of a man emerging from a black car. Even in pixels, he commanded the space around him. He was tall,broad-shoulder

Evelyn's POV.My eyes shot to Vincent. My breath stopped in my throat. This was the moment he would step forward. He would shake his head, take my hand, and tell them to stop this crazy joke. I searched his face, waiting for the kindness I knew. The kindness that had brought me ice chips and told me I was brave.He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at Clarissa. And then, as if he felt my stare, his eyes slid over to mine.There was no kindness. No apology. No secret signal.The corner of his mouth lifted. Just a little. A small, cold tilt of victory. It wasn’t a full smile. It was worse. It was the quiet look of a man who has won a bet he never told you about.The air left my lungs like I’d been kicked. The world didn’t go black. It shattered into a million pieces. Every memory, the first flutter I’d called a bubble, the late-night cravings for peach yogurt, Vincent’s hand on my growing belly, the dreams I’d whispered to the dark ceiling of a nursery I’d painted myself, every

Evelyn’s POV. “You’ve finally been useful,” Clarissa said, as she stood at my ward door, champagne in hand like a scepter. Behind her, Father and stepmother followed. The room went cold.I had been in the hospital for the past twenty-six hours, and none of them had shown up.I had driven myself to the hospital despite being in labor, and now they were walking in, acting like everything was fine.I knew they never liked me, but not to this extent. I held my baby closer, ignoring the sting of the IV. “Evelyn, you’ve performed a great service,” my step mum said. A service? I was the one who had just given birth but it seems like my whole family was going crazy. “What service?”Before my step mum could answer, Clarissa burst into laughter. I swallowed hard.“The surrogacy contract, silly. For me and Vincent.” She pouted, her voice laced with mockery. I chuckled as I looked at my father, who wouldn’t look back. I looked at Clarissa, at her perfect smile.“You’ve always wanted Vincen