Ghost from the past

    I couldn’t stop replaying every moan, every thrust, every filthy word Dylan had growled against my skin.

  The next few days blurred together. Dylan threw himself into work like a man possessed, spending hours locked in his study on calls, barking orders, fighting to take back full control of the Hart empire. I barely saw him except for brief, tense moments in the hallway where we both pretended the other didn’t exist.

  I moved through the mansion like a ghost, trying to process what had happened between us. My body still remembered the feeling of him inside me. The way he had fucked me so hard I saw stars. The way he had filled me. And now… I was late. Scared. But I pushed the thought down deep. It was too soon to be sure. Too soon to let hope or fear take over.

  One rainy afternoon, I was in the library reviewing household accounts when the doorbell rang. I heard raised voices, then footsteps. Curious, I stepped out onto the second-floor landing and looked down.

  A stunning woman stood in the foyer, elegant even with tears streaming down her face. Dark hair, red lips, designer coat. Eva Stone.

  “Dylan,” she sobbed, voice breaking. “I just found out. I can’t believe it. You were in a coma for years and no one told me. I would have come sooner. I would have been here for you.”

  Dylan walked straight to her without hesitation. “Eva… God, it’s really you.”

  He pulled her into his arms, holding her tight as she cried against his chest. I gripped the railing, my nails digging into the wood. The way he comforted her, the softness in his voice, it was everything I had begged him to give me and never received.

  “I missed you so much,” Eva whispered, not letting go. “When they told me what happened, I felt like my heart stopped. I should have been your wife. I should have been the one by your side.”

  I couldn’t watch anymore. I backed away from the railing, chest tight, and retreated to my room. Jealousy burned through me like acid. She was his first love. The one he actually chose before the accident. Before me.

  Later that evening, Dylan found me in the living room. His expression was closed off, guarded.

  “We need to talk,” he said flatly.

  I stood up, arms crossed. “About Eva? I saw you with her. The way you held her.”

  He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She’s an old friend. Someone who actually meant something to me before all this. Before the coma. Before this forced marriage.”

  “Before me, you mean.” My voice cracked. “Before the contract trapped you with someone you never wanted.”

  “Exactly.” He didn’t even try to soften it. “This marriage was never real, Ivy. It was a business deal to protect the family name. As soon as I stabilize the company and sort out my head, we’ll end it. Quiet divorce. You can have whatever settlement you want. Just stop acting like this is some love story.”

  The words hurt worse than I expected, especially after the night we shared. “You can say that after you fucked me? After you were so deep inside me I couldn’t think straight? After you came inside me like you couldn’t get enough?”

  His jaw tightened. “That night was a mistake. I was weak. It won’t happen again.”

  I stepped closer, anger mixing with pain. “You’re lying to yourself. I felt how much you wanted me. The way your cock throbbed when you were coming. The way you kept fucking me even after you finished the first time. You wanted me, Dylan. You still do.”

  “Stop.” His voice was sharp, but I saw the flicker in his eyes. “It was sex. Nothing more. Don’t confuse physical need with feelings. Eva and I have history. Real history.”

  Tears stung my eyes. “And what do we have? Nothing? Just a contract and one night you regret?”

  He looked away. “Go to bed, Ivy. Eva is staying in the guest house for a while. She needs support right now.”

  I watched him walk away, heart breaking all over again. But I couldn’t let it end there. A little while later, I slipped outside for fresh air and found myself near the guest house. Their voices drifted through the slightly open window.

  “I never stopped loving you, Dylan,” Eva said softly, full of emotion. “Even after all these years. When I heard about the coma, I cried for days. I should have been the one married to you. Not her. I still love you. I’ve always loved you.”

  My stomach dropped. I pressed my back against the cold wall, hand over my mouth to keep from making a sound. The silence that followed felt endless.

  I didn’t wait to hear Dylan’s reply. I turned and walked back toward the main house, legs shaking, tears finally falling freely.

  The man I had given everything to was being told by his first love that she still wanted him. That she should have been his wife.

  I stopped in the middle of the garden, rain starting to fall again, and whispered to the night air.

  “What am I supposed to do now?”

  The answer scared me more than anything.

  Because no matter how much it hurt, I still loved him. And if I really was carrying his child, I would have to fight harder than ever before.

  Even if it meant fighting against Eva Stone.