Chapter 12

Aaliyah’s POV

Tears blurred my vision.

The rooftop bar’s glass railing reflected the city’s glitter as I stood in the corner, my voice trembling.

“Did you see them? Henry and Aurora? Is that why you kissed me earlier?” The words tore out of me, raw and desperate, as I faced Orrin.

His gray eyes, usually sparking with mischief, softened with concern, his dark blond hair slightly tousled from rushing to meet me.

The bar’s chatter and clinking glasses faded, and it was just us, the air heavy with my pain and a tension that made my heart race.

Orrin stepped closer, his hand hovering near mine, like he wasn’t sure I’d let him touch me.

“Aaliyah,” he said, his voice low and steady, “I saw Henry earlier, yeah. Recognized him from photos I found when I looked you up. I didn’t know Aurora was with him, but I figured you didn’t need to see him. That’s why I… distracted you.”

The memory of his lips brushing mine in the café—soft, fleeting, but enough to set my nerves on fire—made my cheeks burn.

“Distracted me,” I echoed, wiping my eyes. “You mean that kiss.”

He grinned, a flicker of his teasing charm breaking through. “Worked like a charm, didn’t it, firecracker? Your face was redder than a Chicago sunset. Bet it’s getting there now.”

I swatted his arm, a shaky laugh slipping out despite the tears. “You’re impossible,” I said, but my voice cracked. It felt like I was reliving the betrayal all over, my life unraveling in front of a man who’d promised me revenge.

Orrin’s grin faded, his eyes searching mine. “Hey,” he said, his voice softer, “I know seeing them together again—probably triggered some unwanted feelings.”

He was right but I wanted to snap that I was over Henry, yet the truth clawed out.

“It’s not that,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m embarrassed, Orrin. You saw them, saw how they replaced me, and you had to shield me like I’m some fragile thing. I’m so angry—at them, at myself for letting it still hurt.”

My voice broke, and I looked away, the city lights blurring. Orrin closed the distance, his hand gently cupping my elbow, his touch warm and grounding.

“Aaliyah,” he said, his voice rough with emotion, “you’re not fragile. You’re the strongest woman I know. You’re allowed to hurt, but don’t be embarrassed. Not with me.”

His words wrapped around me, soothing the raw edges of my pain, and I met his gaze, his eyes so intense it stole my breath.

The bar’s dim lights caught the sharp angles of his face, and for a moment, I forgot everything—Henry, Aurora, the baby. It was just Orrin, close enough that I could feel his warmth, his cedar-and-rain scent pulling me in like a tide.

“Thanks,” I whispered, my voice thick. “I just… I don’t know how to deal with this.”

He tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “How about we sit? Grab something to drink—non-alcoholic for you though.”

He guided me to a quieter corner of the bar, his hand brushing the small of my back.

We settled at a high-top table, the city sparkling beyond the glass. He ordered a mocktail for me—pineapple and mint, bright and fizzy—and a whiskey for himself, his ease making the moment feel almost normal.

But it wasn’t. The chemistry between us crackled, every glance, every brush of his fingers against the table setting my nerves alight.

He leaned forward, his voice low and teasing. “You know, firecracker, you’re killing me in that dress. How’s a guy supposed to think straight when you look like that?”

My cheeks flamed, and I sipped my mocktail, the cold glass grounding me. “Stop it,” I said, but my lips twitched, his words warming me in a way I didn’t want to admit. “You’re not allowed to flirt when I’m a mess.”

“Especially when you’re a mess,” he shot back, his grin wicked. “You’re even cuter all teary-eyed and stubborn. Makes me wanna steal another kiss.”

My heart skipped, the café’s peck flashing in my mind, and I leaned closer, the air between us sparking. “You wouldn’t dare,” I said, my voice breathy, his scent pulling me in.

“Wouldn’t I?” he teased, his hand brushing mine, sending a jolt through me. His eyes darkened, holding mine, and the tension was unbearable, like a live wire ready to snap.

The mocktail did nothing to dull the ache—Henry’s arm around Aurora, their laughter, my embarrassment in front of Orrin. It churned inside me, hot and fierce, mixed with something new: want.

I ordered another mocktail, but Orrin’s hand covered mine, his touch gentle but firm. “Easy, firecracker,” he said, his eyes searching. “You okay?”

“No,” I admitted, my voice shaking, the anger and hurt spilling over.

“I hate them, Orrin. I hate how they’re happy while I’m… breaking.” I looked away, my hand tightening around the glass.

The baby—Henry’s baby—felt like a secret anchor, and I wanted to tell him, but the words wouldn’t come.

He leaned closer, his voice soft but fierce. “You’re not breaking. You’re Aaliyah Monroe, and you’re gonna make them regret ever crossing you. I’m right here, if you’ll let me.”

His words lit a spark—anger, yes, but also desire, a need to fight back. I met his gaze, his eyes steady, and the world tilted.

“Yes,” I blurted, the word escaping before I could stop it.

“Yes what?”

“Yes to your deal. The marriage, the revenge, all of it. I’m in. Let’s burn their world down.”

Orrin’s eyes widened, but he leaned back, his expression cautious. “Aaliyah, you’re upset. You sure about this? You might change your mind tomorrow.”

I shook my head, leaning forward, my hand grabbing his, the contact sending a thrill through me.

“I’m serious, Orrin. I mean it. I’m done letting them win.”

He studied me, his gaze intense, like he was searching for the truth.

“Prove it,” he said, his voice a low challenge, his eyes darkening with something that made my pulse race. “Prove that you're serious, Aaliyah.”

I didn’t think—I moved, closing the distance, my lips crashing into his. Not a peck, but a real kiss, fierce and desperate, tasting of pineapple and mint from my mocktail and the heat of him.

His hand cupped my cheek, his touch warm and steady, and he kissed me back, slow and deep, like he’d been waiting for this.

The bar, the city, the pain—it all vanished, and there was only him, his lips moving against mine, his breath mingling with my own, the world spinning around us.