REVENGE IS A DISH BEST SERVED COLD

Mia's POV

Tom took two slow, deliberate steps back, and a broad smile began to spread across his face — the kind that hinted he believed he'd already claimed some kind of victory, even though I hadn’t agreed to anything at all.

He slipped his hands into his pockets, tilting his head slightly as if to observe my reaction.

"Think about it, Mia," he said, he sounded casual, like we were merely discussing the latest episode of some TV series. "And don't worry about Chris. I’ll take care of him."

With that, he turned and walked out, closing the door with such tenderness that it barely made a sound.

I remained rooted in the center of my living room, my gaze locked on the closed door long after his footsteps had faded away down the hallway.

Handle him? Handle Chris? 

It was as if Tom viewed his own son merely as a problem to be tackled rather than a human being with feelings and complexities. And the truth was, Tom had absolutely no idea about the depth of my history with Chris.

Or does he?

He was completely oblivious to the time I had spent with Chris, how well I recognized that intimate moment when pleasure washed over him.

I still had saved all his texts on my phone, a testimony to my own pathetic longing. He didn’t know that Chris had whispered my name in breathless urgency during our most intense moments, nor did he understand the multitude of promises Chris had made that ultimately went unfulfilled.

If I were to marry Tom, everything would ultimately come crashing down…

And it would only get worse…

Because, Chris was omnipresent these days — his image plastered all over billboards, endlessly featured in interviews, and gracing magazine covers with that seemingly perfect smile.

He was the golden boy adored by everyone, and if I dared to show up at any event as Tom's wife, the media frenzy would be uncontrollable. 

They would dig and pry until they unearthed the truth about my past with Chris, about how he discarded me the moment his sponsors began to show interest.

This would obliterate him, of that I was certain — but it would devastate me even more. Why on earth should I sink so low for the sake of revenge?

I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to wipe away the frustration, only to notice the sticky sensation clinging to my thighs which served as a constant reminder of how close I had come to allowing Tom to witness just how much I subconsciously craved him.

My skin felt unbearably hot and tight. I desperately needed to wash away everything.

Without hesitating, I made my way to the bathroom, cranking the shower up to the hottest temperature possible and steam quickly enveloped the small space.

I yanked off my bra and pants, carelessly tossing them into the corner. The water hit my shoulders with a forceful warmth as I stepped underneath, relishing the burn just a little.

Grabbing the soap, I began washing between my legs, trying to cleanse away the remnants of earlier.

My fingers inadvertently brushed against my clit, and I couldn’t help but inhale sharply at the unexpected sensation, my body still yearning for something I had no intention of allowing myself to indulge in.

I couldn’t escape thoughts of Chris.

I recalled the way he had pushed me against the wall in his apartment, his hands gripping my hips with intensity, his mouth finding its way to my neck while he drove into me so forcefully that the pictures hung on the walls rattled in protest.

He would pull me back onto him again and again until my mind clouded over with nothing but pleasure, unable to think straight, lost in my own moans. I could almost feel it now — the stretch, the pressure, the way he would growl just before reaching that peak moment.

My fingers had begun to move on their own accord, tracing slow circles, and I found myself hating my own weakness.

Because just as quickly as that memory surfaced, so did the haunting one of the nights he told me we were done.

He had shattered me… Left me in pieces and simply walked away.

I jerked my hand back and slapped it against the cool tile wall.

No…

I refused to do this…

I wasn’t going to allow him to occupy space in my mind anymore. I wouldn’t permit my body to crave someone who had cast me aside like worthless trash.

I hurried through the rest of my shower, wrapping a towel around myself afterward and quickly making my way to my bedroom.

The sheets felt refreshingly cool against my skin as I slid between them.

I didn’t bother putting on any clothes…

Instead, I reached for my phone from the nightstand, seeking anything to focus on, scrolling through mindless content in a futile attempt to quiet my racing thoughts.

Then, as if fate had decided to throw me a curveball, it rang.

Isabel's name lit up the screen, and my stomach lurched almost immediately.

Chris's Isabel…

The one he had chosen over me…

I watched the call ring once, then twice, and again a third time, my thumb hovering indecisively over the decline button.

But for reasons I couldn’t quite understand, I found myself swiping to answer.

“Mia, hi!” she chirped, her voice almost too bubbly for nearly eleven at night. “I’m so glad you picked up! I wasn’t sure you would.”

I remained silent, unable to find the right words.

"Hey, I know this is super last minute, but Chris and I finally picked a date for our wedding. It’s happening this December, and I just really want everything to be perfect and without any drama, you know? I bet Chris had filled you in"

I couldn't help but feel a bit tense at the mention of 'drama-free.'

Is she trying to spike the anger within me? Because if that's it, I really won't regret everyone and everything going down the drain.

"Anyway," she continued without giving me a chance to reply, "I've been thinking about the bridal party, and I really want you to be a part of it. I need you as a bridesmaid. It would mean the world to me — and to Chris, too, honestly. We want to show everyone that there are no hard feelings. We’re all adults here."

I sat up slowly, gripping the phone so tightly that it started to hurt.

No hard feelings? As if I was the one who did something wrong, when I found out about her just hours ago.

"You still there, Mia?"

This is ridiculous… No ounce of shame or sympathy for taking your bestfriend's boyfriend. This is fucking pathetic.

“Mia?” Her voice bubbled out.

"Yeah." My response came out sounding pretty flat.

"Awesome! So you'll do it? It’ll be fun, I promise. We're having it at this beautiful venue just outside the city, and the dresses are this lovely soft sage green that will look stunning on you. Chris said you always looked great in green."

He said that… He actually remembered.

And now he was sending his fiancée to dig at the wound.

I closed my eyes and thought about Tom’s face, remembering him saying he would handle things.

“Mia?” Isabel urged. “Come on, it’ll be like closure for everyone. Please say yes.”

I know I'm flaring up and I know it is very low of me to show up as Tom's wife — But this is embarrassing… Does she take me as a joke?

Before I could really think it through, my anger found its words immediately.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” I replied.

“And I'll make you regret it.” I wish I could add that, but I know she'd find out sooner or later.