LOGINI stare at my empty finger, my chest tightening until it hurts. The skin where my ring used to be feels colder than the rest of me.
My throat tightens. For the first time all night, I realize, I don’t belong to Stephan anymore.
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. My throat burns, and all I can do is look away before the tears spill.
Micah’s jaw flexes. “Come on. What movie did you want to see?”
I shrug and wipe under my eyes. “Anything.”
He doesn’t argue. Instead, he takes my bag and rests a hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward a chair.
“Sit here,” he says quietly. “I’ll be right back.”
I nod, too drained to fight him. People are still staring, and it makes me feel even smaller. I take out my phone, hoping to distract myself, but when I check my accounts, every single one is frozen.
My stomach sinks. He actually did it.
A shaky breath leaves me. My eyes sting again, but before I can cry, Micah is back with two movie tickets and a huge bowl of popcorn.
“SpongeBob?” He raises a brow, teasing.
A small, broken smile tugs at my lips. “Really?”
“Hey, I know you love it,” he says, handing me the popcorn.
We walk side by side toward the theater.
When we step inside, I stop short. “Wait, where is everyone?”
Micah sinks into a seat in the third row. “I figured you could use some privacy.”
My eyes widen. “You didn’t…buy the whole theater, did you?”
“The movie’s starting,” he says, patting the seat beside him. “Come on, I know you won’t admit it, but SpongeBob cheers you up.”
I sigh but sit anyway. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re smiling again,” he murmurs.
The lights dim completely. The screen flashes yellow, and for a while, it’s easy to forget everything. The sound of the movie fills the space between us. I even laugh once, really laugh until his fingers brush mine inside the popcorn bowl.
The laughter dies.
My gaze flicks to him, but he’s already looking at me.
“What?” I ask, rubbing my cheek self-consciously. “Do I have something on my face?”
He grins a little. “Yeah. Right there.”
He reaches for a napkin and gently brushes at my cheek, his large hand cupping my face. His fingers are warm and something inside me trembles. My breath catches.
It’s been so long since anyone touched me with tenderness.
I don’t pull away.
“What happened, Eva?” he asks quietly.
I blink, pulling back a little. “What?”
“With you and Stephan.”
A hard lump forms in my throat. “We’re…getting a divorce.”
His brows rise. “He served you?”
I shake my head. “No. I did.”
Micah tilts his head, surprise flashing across his features. “You finally left him.”
“I know you both don’t like each other,” I murmur. “But he’s not all bad. Life just… happened.”
And I still love him. Even now, that bitter truth stings.
He scoffs quietly. “Love didn’t run out, Eva. Respect did. That man never deserved you.”
I look away. “You don’t know everything.”
“I know enough,” he says. “He’s freezing your accounts and letting you suffer while he plays the victim.”
I exhale sharply. “Micah, please. I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”
“Then tell me this, where are you staying?”
I’ll be fine.” I force a small smile. “I’ll find a hotel.”
“Eva.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “Tell me.”
“Micah, please…”
“I’m not dropping it.” His voice softens, but his eyes are firm.
Heat creeps up my neck. “A cheap hotel, okay? I have some cash left.”
He sighs and glances down at my bare hand. His thumb brushes the pale mark where my ring used to be. “Your account is frozen, love. You don’t even have enough for a meal.”
I swallow hard. “Then I’ll start applying for jobs tomorrow.”
“Stay with me,” he says suddenly.
I freeze. “What?”
“I have a huge house all to myself. You can stay there until you figure things out. I’ll even give you a job at my company.”
I shake my head. “No, Micah. If this hits the press—”
“You don’t have to decide now,” he interrupts softly. “Just let me take you home tonight. Let me help you.”
“I shouldn’t—”
“Shush.” His fingers find my chin, tilting my face toward him. “Let me cook for you. Run you a bath. You can leave after if you want.”
Micah’s gaze is steady, kind, and dangerously gentle. It’s the kind of look that makes a woman forget every reason she should run.
He’s gorgeous. The sharp cut of his jaw, the warmth in his brown hair under the soft light.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, heart hammering.
He smiles faintly. “You’re scared of being alone with me.”
My lips part. “N-no.”
His eyes flicker down to my mouth. “Then relax. I’m only going to make sure you’re okay.”
I want to believe him. I really do. But something in his voice makes my pulse skip.
“Okay,” I breathe. “But I’m not staying the night.”
“Of course.” His smile deepens.
–
An hour later, the credits roll. Micah stands, grabs my bag, and offers his hand. I let him pull me up.
The night air is cool when we step outside. His driver opens the door.
“Evening, sir. Ma’am.”
Micah nods, guiding me inside. The leather smells faintly of mint and cologne.
For a while, we’re both silent. He’s scrolling through his phone; I’m staring out the window, pretending not to hope for a text that will never come.
My phone is still empty. No messages. No missed calls.
Typical Stephan.
A warm hand suddenly rests on my thigh, and I flinch.
“Hey,” Micah says softly. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine,” I lie, but my voice betrays me.
He doesn’t move his hand. His thumb brushes against my skin, slow and deliberate, and I can barely breathe.
His hands are big, veins running like rivers beneath his skin.
Without thinking, I trace one with my fingertip.
He inhales sharply. “Eva.”
The sound of my name on his lips sends a shiver down my spine. I jerk my hand away. “Sorry.”
What am I doing? My husband’s betrayal still stings, yet here I am, craving the warmth of another man.
Silence stretches between us, thick and charged. When the car stops in front of his house, the driver offers a quiet goodnight and disappears inside.
Neither of us moves.
Micah’s fingers brush against my knee, then trail slowly down to my ankle. My skin prickles, goosebumps rising.
“Your eyes,” he murmurs, voice rough. “They’re saying something.”
I gulp. “I—I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do.” His gaze darkens, burning through me. “Tell me, Eva. What do you want?”
My pulse pounds in my ears. The air between us feels too hot.
I want to deny it, to pull away. But when he leans closer, his breath fanning my lips, all the broken pieces inside me melt into longing.
“Look at me,” he says.
I do, and almost forget how to breathe. His eyes are molten, filled with something I haven’t felt in years. Desire.
“I need…” My voice breaks.
“Need what?” he asks, his breath brushing against my mouth.
Tears sting my eyes as the words tumble out. “I need to forget,” I whisper. “Just for a bit.”
Eva’s POVMicah’s grip never leaves the small of my back as we walk into the event hall—after a few minutes of interrogation by reporters who don’t get any reply from us.“You good?” He murmurs in my ear for the fourth time tonight.And like always, I nod. “Yes. I’m good.”When a server passes with a tray of champagne in a tall glass, Micah snags one for each of us, and I use the opportunity to keep my eyes open for…you-know-who.Somehow, it got to our ears that he wasn’t attending. And god, I hope it stays that way.There’s soft music sifting through the speakers, the scent of expensive perfumes and Christ, so many sequins…diamonds.I’ve been to things like this but I never get over how much wealth every individual at these functions ooze. “At any moment you feel uncomfortable, tell me and we’ll be out of here immediately,” Micah repeats his mantra to me.I snort, smiling up at him. “I heard you the first ten thousand times.”“Just a friendly reminder, love. Also know that it wouldn
Eva’s POV“Micah?” My frown deepens.He smiles softly. “Relax. I don’t bite.”With that, he walks ahead into his large walk in closet. I don’t follow. Instead, I stay put in the large bedroom, afraid to even sit on the bed or the chair at the dresser.He returns shortly with three garment bags, and he places them on his bed. “Take a look.”“What?”“They’re for you.”My gaze drifts to the bags, and back to Micah over and over until I take a tentative step forward and pull down the zip.Blue. That’s the first thing I see. After a few seconds of digging around, I’m able to pull out the dinner dress. A long blue silk dress, and god, it’s so soft.“Wow,” I blurt, eyes wide. “A dress.”He snorts. “Yes, a dress. Open the rest.”“Don’t tell me you bought me three dresses, Micah.”He doesn’t reply. When I open the next two, I’m met with different designs and different colours of outfits for me. Both dresses.Gold and black.I blink at the dresses on the bed, my perfect sizes, and beautiful p
Eva’s POVIt’s dark out by the time I wake up from my nap.“Shoot!” I jerk up. “I promised to be down for dinner.”Willing my ankles, they feel a bit better. Still sore, but not too much. I shrug out of Stefan’s shirt, replacing it with one of Micah’s.Why? I can’t really say.“…Thursday is fine—”“What’s happening on Thursday?” I ask, interrupting the conversation between Darryl and Micah.Their heads shoot up at my voice, and Micah immediately walks over to me. “Darryl is leaving on Thursday.” His eyes rake down my body, taking note of the shirt. “You look good.” My smile is bashful, almost shy. “Well, you asked me to wear yours.”“And I’m ecstatic that you did.” He leads me to the dining table, pulling out a seat for me.“Thank you. Hi, Darryl.”“Hey, Micah’s wife.”I snort. “Just Eva is fine.”“I know.” He winks, and I laugh.“Are you hungry? Would you eat the left overs I heated up? Or would you like me to order something for you.”I’d kill for some Chinese but... “The left ove
Micah’s POV“You’re not gonna tell me this one thing?” Eva asks. “Is it that personal?”Yes. Quite.But I don’t tell her that. How am I supposed to tell her that I learned every medical hack because of my mom?All the injuries my mom got when she was high, I was the one left to clean them up. The first months were bad, god, I thought she’d die.So many times I had to force my fingers down her throat when she overdosed….“Not really,” I lie. “Used to be a little clumsy back then so I injured myself a lot.”Her eyes narrow. “Oh…I can’t picture you clumsy.”“Because I’m not anymore. I was young, and thought I had nine lives.”A smile stretches across her lips, eyes lighting up.It’s laughable really. I’ve never been clumsy. I’ve always been composed, organized, and never out of place.She’s right. Even I, can’t picture myself being clumsy. I guess that’s what happens when you grow up too fast.It takes a moment to realise I’m not icing her ankle again. “Still hurting?” I ask, skimming t
Eva’s POVOwen pulls out of the parking lot.“Have you been living under a rock?” Micah frowns. “It’s been all over the internet.”“Forgive me for not spending my whole time doomscrolling, man. I’ve got a wedding to plan, and a perfectionist wife.”Darryl glances at me again, his brows furrowed. Like he’s trying to process what exactly is happening. I don’t blame him, but I feel self-conscious about it.I twiddle my fingers. “It’s...uh…lovely to meet you, Darryl.”“Likewise.” He nods. “I’m sorry if I’m being weird, I’m just trying to process all of this.”“What’s there to process?” Micah asks.“Bro, why the fuck are you married to Stefan’s wife? How did that even happen? Why didn’t you tell me? Does Kill know?”“Kill?”“Killian,” Micah informs. “One of our other friends.”“Oh.”“By the way, I don’t know if Killian knows. I haven’t specifically told him,” Micah replies.Darryl stares at me again then Micah. Heat creeps up my cheeks and I wish the group could somehow open up and swallow
Eva’s POVHe doesn’t respond to that, and somehow that hurts even more. I scoff, shaking my head when I meet Owen’s gaze through the rear mirror.A notification dings from my phone, and without looking, I know who it is. Stefan.Since the photos of Micah and I came out, alongside the little interview we did, he’s been bombarding my phone with calls, texts.For once in my life, I made a decision for myself. I muted his sorry ass. I know I should block him, to hell with him and all that, but…I’m not ready to entirely shut that chapter.Deep down, I’m hoping for a change of heart. I’m hoping that Stefan isn’t all bad. I mean, if he’s calling and texting—no matter how rude and insensitive he’s being—it should mean something, right?Even I know the answer to that... It doesn’t mean anything good. It doesn’t mean he’s changed, he’s only become more obsessive because I’m with Micah—his rival and the man he hates so much.Another ding.“Aren’t you going to look at that?” Micah asks.I scof







