تسجيل الدخولMara The internet woke up angry that morning. Which, honestly, wasn’t surprising. It always did. But this time it was worse. Way worse. I realised it the second I opened my phone. Notifications. Hundreds of them. Messages. Tags. Comments. The kind of online chaos that makes your stomach drop before you even start reading. I sat at the kitchen table, the blue light of the phone reflecting in my tired eyes, terrified to tap anything. Then I opened the first post. A blurry photo. Taken outside the hospital. Cole walking out of the ER with a bandage on his shoulder. Me beside him. The caption read: “Biker gang leader stabbed in late-night brawl. Mystery woman identified as Mara Collins, the ex-wife of business executive Evan Collins. Sources say the affair may have sparked ongoing gang conflict.” My stomach turned. Another article. Another headline. “Custody Battle Turns Violent?” Then came the comments—thousands of strangers playing jud
Cole Hospitals smell like bleach and regret. I hate them. Too bright. Too quiet. Too many people pretending everything is under control when everyone knows it isn’t. I signed my name on the discharge papers while Mara stood beside the bed, her arms crossed tight over her chest. That posture, Unimpressed and disappointed. She was still mad. furious actually. “Are you planning to lecture me the entire drive home?” I asked. “Yes,” she said immediately. “Why?” I ask “You got stabbed.” “Cut.” I corrected She gave me a look that could have peeled paint. “Cole.” “Okay fine,” I conceded. “A Knife happened.” “That’s not better.” The nurse stepped between us and handed me a white pharmacy bag. “Antibiotics,” she instructed, her tone clinical. “Take them. All of them.” “I will.” “Don’t skip doses.” “I won’t.” Mara stepped forward, pointing a finger at the bag. “I’m setting phone alarms. Don't even try it.” The nurse smiled like she’d seen this dynam
Mara The call came at 2:14 a.m. The kind that punches straight through sleep and leaves your heart racing before your brain even wakes up. My phone vibrated violently on the nightstand. I fumbled for it, still half tangled in the blanket. I checked the caller: unknown number Then I answered “Hello?” I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep. “Mara.” The voice was male. Rough.Serious. Not Cole. My stomach immediately dropped. “Yes?” I said, sitting up. “This is Jax,” he continued. “From the club.” Now I was wide awake, the adrenaline a bitter taste in my mouth. “What happened?” “He’s fine,” Jax said immediately. That phrase. He’s fine. People only say that when someone is absolutely not fine. “What happened,” I repeated, my voice sharper. “Small situation,” he said. “Define small.” Silence. That silence told me everything. “Jax.” I barked “He’s at St. Matthew’s,” he said finally. “ER.” The words hit like cold water. “What do you mean
Mara The house was silent that night. Lily had fallen asleep early after insisting she wasn’t tired and then passing out halfway through a cartoon. The living room lights were low. Cole sat on the couch with one arm stretched across the back, scrolling through something on his phone like nothing in the world had changed. Like I hadn’t told him I loved him that morning. Like my heart hadn’t been doing backflips all day replaying his reaction. He is committed to making this work. That’s what he said. Not I love you too. Committed. Very nonchalant of him. Very emotionally mysterious and frustrating. I stood in the kitchen doorway watching him. “You’re staring again,” he said without looking up. “You’re avoiding the conversation,” I replied. Now he looked up. “I thought we had the conversation.” “We did not,” I snapped, stepping into the room. “You said you loved me.” “Yes.” “I said I was committed.” “That’s not the same sentence, Cole.” His
Mara I didn’t think I would realise it that morning. There was no big speech. No cinematic moment. No dramatic music playing in the background. Just a normal Tuesday. Coffee going cold. And Cole standing at the sink washing syrup off a pan like it was the most normal thing in the world. Which was funny. Because nothing about him was normal. Lily had already run off to brush her teeth. I could hear her off-key singing echoing from the hallway. Cole glanced over his shoulder, a stray dark curl falling over his forehead.. Cole glanced over his shoulder. “She always this loud in the morning?” he asked. “Yes,” I replied. “Impressive stamina.” “Wait until bedtime,” I warned. “Then she suddenly becomes a philosopher.” He chuckled. Which gave me comfort. I leaned against the counter and watched him for a second longer than necessary. He caught me staring. “What?” “You’ve been domesticated.” He frowned slightly. “That an insult?” “It’s funny
Mara Cole tried to act normal the next morning. Keyword: tried. He stood at the kitchen counter pouring coffee like his lip wasn’t split and his knuckles weren’t swollen. Like he didn’t come home looking like something ugly happened. I leaned against the doorway watching him. “You’re holding the mug wrong,” I said quietly. He glanced down. “It’s a mug,Mara.” “You’re gripping it like you’re about to punch it.” He exhaled through his nose. “Old habit.” “Deflection.” That almost made me smile. Almost. Lily ran through the kitchen in her socks, sliding across the floor like she was competing for gold. “Uncle Cole!” she chirped.her voice full of morning sunshine. Cole caught her before she could hit herself against the granite counter, his large hands steadying her small shoulders. “Careful,” he warned gently, steadying her shoulders. “I was careful,” she insisted. “You were not,” he corrected. She giggled. Just like that, his whole posture changed
Lily The bike scared me the first time because it was loud and shiny and looked like it could eat people if it wanted to. I stood on the curb holding Mommy’s hand when it rolled into the parking lot, all black and metal and rumble. The sound hit my chest like a drum. Not bad. Just big. Like t
Mara The knock came hard enough to rattle the door. Heavy and Urgent. I was halfway through shoving Lily’s lunch into her bag when it happened, my pulse already spiking before my brain caught up. My body knew the sound. Knew the weight behind it. “Shit,” I muttered, wiping my hands on my
Cole By the time I shut my door, it was already done. That was the truth I didn’t want to look at. The clubhouse noise faded behind me, but the damage didn’t stay there. It followed. Sat heavy in my chest. Quiet. Certain. I hadn’t needed Jax to say anything. I hadn’t needed Rhea’s look when
Mara I knew i felt out of place when i walked in. the room and the noise, made me feel out of place. It pressed in closer, heavier, like I’d stepped into a space that already knew me. Conversations didn’t stop, but they dipped. Glances slid my way and didn’t slide back fast enough. I felt i







