Chapter Five: I Do

Eva’s POV

 

My spoon clatters to the floor, and I freeze.

 

“Marry you?” I blink at him, sure I misheard. “Where is this coming from? What do you even mean?”

 

Micah leans back in his chair, his eyes holding that steady, unreadable stare that always makes my pulse race, except this time, it only leaves me uneasy.

 

He shrugs, lips twitching. “I mean exactly that. I want you to marry me.”

 

A breathy laugh escapes me. “Micah, I just got divorced.”

 

“I know,” he says quietly.

 

“You’re joking, right?”

 

He doesn’t reply, only raises a brow.

 

My lips part. “You’re serious.”

 

“I am.” He nods.

 

I frown, looking down at the half-eaten plates between us, as if they can make sense of any of this.

 

“I can’t marry you.” I stand, gathering the plates just to keep my hands busy.

 

He rises too, following me into the kitchen. “Are you still in love with Stefan?”

 

The question hits like ice water. “What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“Because if you hear me out, you might actually like the idea,” he says. “Let’s sit.”

 

My heart thuds painfully as we settle on the couch, side by side. His nearness is grounding and dangerous all at once.

 

“What really happened this time?” he asks. “What broke the camel’s back?”

 

“You were there,” I mutter. “You saw it.”

 

He arches a brow. “Kissing that woman at the event? Come on, Eva. He’s done worse. That can’t be it.”

 

My throat tightens. I hesitate, memories pressing down like a weight I’d buried too deep.

 

“I loved him,” I say finally, voice cracking. “I still do. We were together for ten years. Since college. I thought he was everything I ever wanted…”

 

Micah hands me a tissue without a word, just listening.

 

“It’s the first time I’ve really said it out loud,” I go on. “But after we lost the baby—”

 

His eyes soften. “The accident?”

 

I nod weakly. “He changed. We both did. And then came the cheating… each time more public than the last.”

 

Micah’s jaw flexes, knuckles whitening against his knees.

 

I sniffle, eyes burning. “But it wasn’t the cheating that finally broke me.” My voice shakes. “Last week, I got sick. Really sick. He was called but—”

 

The words fall apart, and the tears come hot and fast. Micah pulls me into his arms.

 

That memory shoves through the barrier I erected, and I find myself in that hospital corridor again, staring at Stephan as he fussed over his mistress.

 

“He didn’t come?” Micah murmurs after a moment, his voice dragging me out of that place.

 

“I wish.” My laugh is bitter, hollow. “He came. Just not for me.” I swallow hard. “He was there, at the same hospital… taking care of Regina.”

 

Micah stills, eyes flashing briefly. His breathing turns shallow, angry. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

 

I pull away, wiping my face. “It doesn’t matter now.”

 

“He’s a fool for letting you go like that.”

 

I don’t reply. What could I possibly say?

 

He studies me, voice low. “Do you still want him back?”

 

I look up, startled. “What?”

 

“You still love him. Be honest, Eva. If you could make him regret everything, make him chase you, would you?”

 

Something dark and heavy flickers in my chest.  The reminder of all the humiliation, the mocking stares at events, the back-handed comments.

 

A bitter satisfaction I don’t want to name floods my body.

 

“I want him to regret it,” I admit. “To see what he threw away.”

 

Micah’s mouth curves faintly, and his eyes light up. “Then marry me.”

 

I blink. “And what do you get out of this?”

 

“Nothing,” he says, shrugging. “You know I care about you.”

 

“Stefan will lose his mind.”

 

“Good,” he says simply.

 

I look down at my hands. “Is it crazy that I still miss him?”

 

“Not crazy,” Micah replies. “Just human. You were together for ten years.”

 

He stands and brushes a hand along my hairline, a soft touch that lingers too long. I shudder. “We’ll go to the courthouse tomorrow.”

 

My eyes widen, stomach twisting into knots. “Tomorrow?”

 

He smiles, that easy grin that always disarms me. “It’s time you stopped being the one left behind.”

---

 

“You look beautiful, wife,” Micah teases the next morning, eyes skimming the pale blue dress that barely touches my knees.

 

It’s what I could grab out of my suitcase on such short notice. 

 

Besides, what does one wear to a pretend marriage after getting a real divorce?

 

I roll my eyes, but my smile slips as soon as we enter the courthouse.

 

“We’re really doing this?” I whisper, heart hammering as nervous butterflies fill my tummy.

 

He squeezes my hand. “Too late to back out now, Eva.”

 

A clerk steps forward. “Mr. Grayson?”

 

They exchange a quick handshake before we sit. Micah hands over the papers, some I’d barely glanced at last night.

 

My leg bounces uncontrollably. I can’t believe this is happening.

 

Micah’s hand settles over mine, large and steady, anchoring me. I breathe through my nose.

 

“Alright,” the clerk says, standing. “Shall we begin?”

 

We rise together and walk to the small arch at the front.

 

“We don’t have rings,” I whisper, suddenly remembering.

 

Micah just smiles, and taps his pocket. “I came prepared.”

 

The clerk begins reading the vows, his voice echoing softly in the empty room. My mind spins, heart racing for all the wrong reasons.

 

“Do you, Micah Grayson, take Eva Valentine as your lawfully wedded wife?”

 

Micah’s gaze never wavers. “I do.”

 

He slides a dainty gold band on my finger. My mind spins.

 

“And do you, Eva Valentine, take Micah Grayson as your lawfully wedded husband?”

 

My lips tremble, and I swallow thickly. “I do.”

 

“I now pronounce you—”

 

The door slams open with a bang. We all look towards it.

 

I freeze, spine stiffening.

 

Marching down the aisle, eyes blazing, is Stefan.