Married to my Ex’s Brother

Cleo 

"I think we should break up." For a moment, I just stared at Damien.The words didn't register.They hung between us, suspended in the air like something unreal. I blinked.

"What?"

"I think we should break up," he repeated.

A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. Not because it was funny. Because it was ridiculous. Because five minutes ago I had been sitting across from him wondering if he was about to propose. Because tonight was our anniversary and people didn't end three-year relationships over crème brûlée and expensive wine.

"Okay," I said slowly. "Very funny."

His expression didn't change and the smile slowly faded from my lips.

"Wait." A strange feeling settled in my stomach. "You're serious?"

The silence that followed was answer enough. 

"Why?" The word barely came out above a whisper.

Damien was silent for a moment. Then he leaned back slightly in his chair. "I just don't think this is working anymore."

I stared at him, searching his face for something, anything that would make this make sense. I couldn't find it.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No." The answer came too quickly.

"Then what is it?" I asked. "Talk to me, Damien."

He rubbed a hand over his jaw. "Cleo…”

"We can fix it," I said quickly. "Whatever it is, we can work through it."

I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. "Please, Damien."

For one stupid, humiliating second, hope flared inside me. Then he pulled his hand away. Not harshly. Not gently either. Just... deliberately. Like he didn't want me touching him. I felt the rejection all the way down to my bones.

“You need to stop this, you're embarrassing yourself,” he said coldly.

A tear slipped free before I could stop it. I wiped it away immediately.

"I don't want to be with you anymore."

The finality in his voice shattered whatever hope I had left. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then he reached into his wallet, pulled out a few dollar bills, and dropped them on the table.

"For the meal." The casualness of it made me feel sick.

As if three years together could be settled as easily as a restaurant bill. Without another word, he stood. And walked away. Just like that.

I sat there staring at his retreating figure,unable to move. Unable to breathe. Unable to understand how the man I'd loved for three years had just walked out of my life. Slowly, I became aware of the whispers around me. The curious glances.

The sympathetic looks which only made the humiliation worse.

My phone suddenly buzzed inside my purse. My heart jumped and before I could stop myself, I was already reaching for it, a tiny, desperate part of me hoping it was Damien. Hoping he'd text me and tell me this had all been a mistake. A misunderstanding. A cruel joke. Anything.

My fingers trembled as I pulled out my phone. The hope died almost instantly. It wasn't Damien. It was my best friend Lexi.

Lexi: Hey girl! How did dinner go? Did he propose? I need details asap!!

I stared at the message and felt a sharp pain in my chest. Just a few hours ago, Lexi had been sitting cross-legged on my bed while I got ready for dinner. She'd spent almost thirty minutes helping me prepare for a future that no longer existed. A tear slid down my cheek at the memory. I quickly locked my phone and shoved it back into my purse. I couldn't answer her. Not right now. Not when I could barely process it myself .

I pushed back my chair and stood. My legs felt unsteady beneath me. For a split second, I thought I might actually collapse. Instead, I grabbed my purse and headed for the exit. The cool night air hit my face the moment I stepped outside. I inhaled sharply and wrapped my arms around myself as tears continued slipping down my cheeks.

A yellow cab pulled up near the curb. Without thinking, I raised my hand, signaling for the driver to stop. A few moments later, I was sitting in the back seat staring blankly out the window. The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror.

"Where to, miss?"

I should've said home. But the thought of walking into my apartment made my chest ache. Every corner of the apartment held a memory of Damien. I couldn't face it. Not tonight. Not when I still felt like I couldn't breathe.

"Miss?"

I blinked. "Sorry."

My voice sounded strange. Small. Broken. I swallowed hard.

"Where's the nearest club?"

The driver looked surprised but quickly recovered. "About ten minutes from here."

I nodded and looked back out the window.

"Take me there.”

The rest of the drive passed in silence. I rested my forehead against the cool window and watched the city blur by in streaks of light. The rational part of me knew that drowning my misery in alcohol wasn't going to fix anything. It wasn't going to make Damien come back or  erase the image of him walking away from me without a second glance.

But right now, I didn't want to be rational. I didn't want to think, or go home and sit alone in my apartment. I just wanted the noise in my head to stop. A few minutes later, the cab slowed before pulling up outside a building lit by a glowing black-and-gold sign which read Havana Club.

The club stretched across the corner of the street, its entrance crowded with people waiting behind velvet ropes. Music pulsed faintly through the walls, the heavy bass vibrating even from outside.

"We're here," the driver said. His voice snapping me out of my thoughts. For a second, I simply stared at the sign before reaching into my purse and handing him a few dollar bills.

"Keep the change." He glanced at the money before looking back at me.

"Have a good night,miss." 

I pushed open the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The night air was cold against my skin. People stood in small groups outside the club, laughing and talking. I took my place in the line. A large security guard checked IDs before waving people through one at a time. When my turn came, he barely glanced at my driver's license before handing it back.

"Enjoy your night." I forced a smile and stepped inside.

The music hit me immediately. The bass vibrated through the floor beneath my heels. Flashes of colored light swept across the crowded room. Conversations blended with laughter, the clink of glasses, and the steady rhythm of music pouring from the speakers. The air smelled faintly of expensive perfume, alcohol, and something sweet I couldn't quite place.

I almost turned around and left. Maybe this had been a mistake. Maybe I should've gone home. Then Damien's voice echoed through my head and my stomach twisted at the memory. I lifted my chin and headed toward the bar. One drink. That's all I needed. Just one.

One turned into two. Two turned into three. Somewhere between the third and fourth, I'd stopped keeping count.

I slid my empty glass toward the bartender.

“Another.”

Before the bartender could reach for the bottle, a voice beside me spoke.

“Rough night?”

Slowly, I turned my head. A man occupied the seat next to mine. I hadn't even noticed him sit down.