The Call

“Babe…” Elena said softly, her voice trembling just a little.

Raphael looked up from the bed, concern flickering in his brown eyes. “Babe, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she replied too quickly. “I just… I watched a scary video on my phone. It really freaked me out. That’s why my phone fell.”

For a second, Raphael just stared — then burst into laughter. “So, you got scared?”

Elena frowned and crossed her arms. “Really? You’re laughing at me?”

“You’re too cute when you panic,” he teased, reaching for her hand.

She pulled away. “You’re not serious,” she muttered under her breath and got up from the bed. Her feet padded softly against the floor as she walked straight into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her, pressing her back against it, breathing heavily.

“Oh my God,” she whispered to herself. “That was so close… Raphael almost caught me.”

Her heart thumped wildly. The phone had almost betrayed her — not because of a video, but because of the message she’d received. Scarlett’s message. The woman she shouldn’t even be thinking about.

She covered her face with her hands and let out a long breath. “Why can’t I stop thinking about her?”

The memory came back in pieces — the way Scarlett looked at her across the club, that confident smile, the sharp, intoxicating scent of her perfume that still lingered in Elena’s mind. Scarlett’s voice had been deep and calm, her words sharp but magnetic. Everything about her made Elena’s heart race in a way Raphael never could.

She tried to shake it off, splashing some cold water on her face. But the mirror didn’t lie — her cheeks were flushed, her eyes distant. She wasn’t scared of any video… she was scared of her own feelings.

Her phone suddenly buzzed again. The sound made her jump. She quickly grabbed it, half afraid Raphael might hear from the bedroom.

“Hello?” she said in a low voice.

For a few seconds, there was silence — then a woman’s voice came through, smooth and familiar.

“You dropped something at the club.”

Elena froze. Her breath caught in her throat. “Scarlett?” she whispered.

“You should come tomorrow night to pick it up,” Scarlett said calmly, her tone unreadable.

“I—okay,” Elena replied quickly, her heart beating faster. “I’ll come.”

“Good,” Scarlett said softly. “Don’t be late.”

The line went dead.

Elena stood there for a long moment, staring at her phone like it was burning her hand. She could feel a small smile tug at her lips even though she tried to stop it. Scarlett called her. Scarlett wanted to see her again. The thought alone sent shivers down her spine.

She placed the phone against her chest and whispered to herself, “She called me…”

It was wrong — she knew it. She was engaged. Raphael was kind, loyal, the kind of man anyone would dream of marrying. But he didn’t make her feel alive like Scarlett did. He didn’t make her nervous or bold or breathless. Scarlett did all of that without even trying.

When she stepped back into the bedroom, Raphael was already asleep. His arm hung lazily off the bed, the soft rhythm of his breathing filling the quiet room. Elena stood there for a while, watching him. A pang of guilt hit her chest, but it didn’t stop the excitement from growing inside her.

She crawled into bed carefully, turning her back to him. Her phone lay on the nightstand, screen turned down, but she kept glancing at it — waiting, hoping it might light up again.

It didn’t.

Still, she couldn’t stop smiling.

Her thoughts drifted back to the club — to the dim lights, the smell of whiskey and perfume, and Scarlett’s eyes watching her like she was something dangerous. Maybe she was. Maybe she was playing with fire. But Elena didn’t care anymore.

She closed her eyes, the ghost of Scarlett’s voice echoing in her mind.

“You dropped something at the club.”

A lie. She knew she hadn’t dropped anything.

But it was an invitation — one Elena couldn’t say no to.

As sleep pulled her under, she whispered softly into the dark,

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Scarlett.”

And for the first time in weeks, she fell asleep smiling.