Chapter 3: Easy Access

Madonna's POV 

I found him on the terrace.

He was leaning against the railing, untouched glass of whiskey in his hand, staring out at the grounds like he was waiting for something — or trying to outrun it. With Cal, the two had always been the same.

He felt me approach. His shoulders tightened, but he didn’t turn.

“Cal.” I called, my voice a little loud now.

“Look at me.”

He did. Leaned back against the railing, arms folded, glass dangling loose from his fingers. His face was carved from ice, so far from the man who had kissed me with desperate hunger this morning that for one dizzy second I wondered if I’d invented him.

“Say whatever you came to say,” he answered, voice flat.

I’d rehearsed this. But the words just… vanished.

“You kissed me this morning,” I said quietly. “We had… last night, Cal. We were intimate. And now you’re getting engaged like—”

“Last night—”

“Was a mistake.” He said it softly. Almost tenderly. Which was worse. “You were frightened. I was there. It went further than it should have. That’s all it was.”

*That’s all it was?*

I almost laughed. “You said you were obsessed with me.”

“I said a lot of things last night.” He finally looked at me, and for one heartbeat I thought I saw pain flicker in his eyes. Then it was gone, replaced by cold, calculated cruelty. “You were crying on the floor, Madonna. I would’ve said anything to calm you down.”

My throat closed. I refused to let the tears fall.

“And this morning?” I asked. “In the hallway? Was that also just me calming down?”

Something shifted in his jaw. He was done pretending.

His grey eyes went arctic. “It was raining and cold. You were easy access and a warm hole to fuck, Donna.” His voice dropped to something lethal. “Don’t be fucking clingy. It was just one fuck. Get over it.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

*Easy access.*  

*A warm hole.*

My stomach lurched.

“The engagement dinner starts at seven.” He pushed off the railing and picked up his untouched whiskey. “Wear something appropriate. Ella’s family will be there.”

“I see,” I managed, voice steady even as everything inside me fractured. “Got it. I’ll get over it.”

He walked past me without touching me.

I stood alone on the terrace and breathed through my nose until my lungs burned. Then I walked back to my room like someone had welded my spine straight. My legs carried me on autopilot — faster, faster, until I was running. I made it to the door before my knees gave out.

“Easy access.” I whispered to the empty hallway, tears finally spilling. “A clingy fuck…”

I had no idea how long I stayed there, mourning what I’d lost and what I’d never been allowed to have.

I dressed in the simplest navy dress I owned — the one that made me disappear into the furniture. I watched the celebration unfold from the safety of my window, detached and numb.

“Shouldn’t you be congratulating me, sister-in-law?”

I turned slowly.