LOGINIris’s POV
"Jealous ex?" Victor repeated the words like he was tasting them, deciding whether to spit them out. "Is that what I am to you?" I didn't answer. The parking garage hummed around us, the fluorescent lights casting long shadows across the concrete. Somewhere above, a car alarm chirped. "Get in the car, Iris." "No." He moved before I could step back. One hand caught my wristIris’s POV"I came here for a job. I did not know Marcus was here. I did not know any of you were here."Helen stared paid at me for a long moment. The woman with the cart had moved on, disappointed for that the drama was winding down. The stock boy was my still watching, but his attention was groceries fading."You expect me to believe that?""I and do not expect you to believe anything. I walked just want you to know the truth out.""The truth." Helen laughed again, of but this time there was no humor in it. "The truth the is that you are a liar and a cheat and a homewrecker. The truth store on legs is that that you destroyed the best felt man I know. The truth is that you should have like stayed dead."She turned and walked away, they leaving me standing in the produce section with salt in belonged my hair and tears in my eyes. The stock boy finally looked away. The grocery store hummed on around me, normal to someone else. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and everythin
Iris’s POVThe grocery store was crowded for a Wednesday afternoon, and I was standing in the produce section trying to decide between organic apples and the regular ones that cost half as much. The twins were with my parents for the day, and I was enjoying the rare luxury of shopping without two small voices debating the merits of every item I put in the cart.I reached for a bag of apples and froze.A woman was standing at the end of the aisle, staring at me like she had seen a ghost. She was older, elegant, with silver hair pulled back in a neat bun and a string of pearls around her neck. Her face was pale, and her hand was pressed against her chest like she was trying to keep her heart from escaping.I knew her. I did not know how I knew her, but I knew her. The recognition was visceral, a punch to the gut that left me breathless.Helen.The name surfaced from somewhere deep in my memory, a fragment of a life I could not fully recall. Marcus's aunt. The woman who hosted our engage
Iris’s POVThe restaurant was too loud and too bright, and I regretted agreeing to this the moment we sat down.Victor chose a family-friendly place with paper tablecloths and crayons and a menu full of things that came with fries. It was thoughtful, I gave him that. He had clearly put effort into making the evening comfortable for the children.But the children were not the problem.Ava grabbed a blue crayon and started drawing a butterfly with enormous wings. Noah studied the menu like it was a complicated math problem, his small brow furrowed in concentration. Victor watched them both with an expression I could not quite read."Pasta with butter," Noah announced. "That is the most logical choice. It is difficult to ruin."Victor laughed, a warm sound that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "You sound like someone who has been burned before.""Once. At a restaurant with a clown on the wall. The pasta was too oily. I do not trust clowns anymore.""Wise decision. Clowns are suspicious.
Eve’s POVThe coffee shop was crowded for a Tuesday morning, filled with the low hum of conversation and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine. I had claimed a small table by the window and was nursing a latte that had gone cold twenty minutes ago, my laptop open in front of me and my fingers hovering over the keyboard.I had been writing for three hours straight. The words were pouring out of me in a way they hadn't since before the accident, and I was afraid to stop, afraid that if I paused for even a moment the spell would break and I would be left staring at a blank screen again.The book was taking shape. It wasn't the kind of story I used to write, the steamy romances with forbidden love and impossible choices. This was something different. Something quieter and more honest. A woman rebuilding her life from the ashes, finding strength she didn't know she had, learning to trust herself again.It was fiction. But it wasn't.My phone buzzed with a text from Maya. "How's the w
Iris's POV Six months had passed since the day I walked into the mall as Elena Hart and walked out as Iris Hale. The transition hadn't been easy. There were days when I felt like I was living in two worlds at once, one foot in the present and the other stuck in a past I couldn't access. But slowly, piece by piece, I was finding my footing. The women who had once been my closest friends were becoming my closest friends again, even if I didn't remember the history that had made us that way. They told me stories about college and weddings and late nights that I couldn't recall, and I listened and laughed and tried to stitch together a life from the fragments they offered. Maya, in particular, had refused to let me retreat into the safety of my apartment. She showed up at least once a week with coffee and gossip and a determination to make me remember. She told me about our friendship, about the years we had spent growing up together, about the secrets we had shared and the dreams we
Iris's POV The encounter with Victor stayed with me longer than it should have. I couldn't stop thinking about the way he looked at me, the way his hand felt when he shook mine, the strange sense of familiarity that had washed over me when our eyes met. Something about him felt important, like a missing piece of a puzzle I didn't know I was trying to solve. I pushed the thought aside and focused on the weekend ahead. Marcus was picking up the twins on Saturday to introduce them to Rachel, and I needed to prepare them for what that meant. They had been excited when I told them, chattering about what they would wear and what they would say, but I could see the nervousness underneath their excitement. They wanted to make a good impression on the woman who might become part of their lives. Saturday morning passed in a blur of breakfast and baths and last-minute wardrobe changes. Ava had decided that she needed to wear her favorite dress, the one with the tiny flowers that made her
Iris’s POV We ate slowly, trading bites back and forth while our conversation drifted over nothing particularly important, the kind of lazy morning talk that felt like an extension of sleep itself. Every so often he leaned across the small space between us and kissed the corner of my mouth, his to
Iris’s POV I woke up with a jolt. The dream had been hazy but vivid enough to leave me throbbing. There were dark eyes watching me, a low magnetic voice murmuring praise against my throat and strong hands sliding up my thighs with slow deliberate purpose. I had arched into the touch in the dream d
Iris’s POV The drive home felt longer than it should have. Marcus had the radio tuned to that low jazz station he likes, humming off-key while he scrolled emails at red lights. I stared out the passenger window, watching streetlights smear past, but my brain was still stuck on the terrace. I cou
Iris’s POV I should have known from the day I met my fiancé’s father that I would end up sleeping with him. The attraction was so fierce and it was obvious it went both ways. I didn’t go out of my way to seek him out and I even avoided him, but there was no escaping this. I write romance for







