EMILY’S POVThis is it. No more delays, no more second-guessing. We have dragged this out long enough. Today, I am going to finalize my divorce and close this painful chapter of my life.“Emily,” his voice comes through the receiver, hesitant. “I—”“We need to finalize the divorce,” I cut him off before he can start with any pleasantries or excuses. “No more games, Carlos. It’s time.”There is a pause, then a sigh. “I know,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the court the other day. I—”“It doesn’t matter.” My voice is firm. “We’ve delayed this long enough. I just want this to be over.”Carlos exhales deeply, and for a moment, there is nothing but silence between us. I hear the faint rustling of papers in the background, as if he is searching for something—perhaps an excuse, another reason to put this off. But I am not going to let him.“Emily… are you sure this is what you want?” His voice is softer now. “Like, right now?”My grip on the phone tightens. “Yes.”“Separate
EMILY'S POVI walk into the police station. The air is thick with the scent of coffee and sweat. My heels click against the floor as I approach the front desk. At this point, my patience is hanging by a fragile thread."I'm here to pay Carlos Carter’s fine," I state, sliding my credit card across the counter.The officer behind the desk, a middle-aged man, barely spares me a glance as he retrieves the necessary paperwork. "You his wife?" he asks, flipping through a file."Soon to be ex-wife," I correct. I am irritated, and my voice shows it.The officer lets out a low hum."Happens a lot," he says, stamping a form. "But if you ask me, divorces drag longer when one of the parties doesn't really want it."I stiffen. "Trust me, officer. One of the parties definitely wants it."I take the receipt and follow him through the secured hallway. And then, I see him.Carlos. My husband—soon to be ex-husband—leaning lazily against the wall of the holding cell, looking like a mess of expensive bad
CARLOS' POVThe world spins when I first open my eyes. My head pounds like someone is slamming a hammer against my skull. My throat is dry, and the bitter taste of regret lingers in my mouth. The fluorescent lights above make me wince, and when I shift, a dull ache spreads through my stomach.The last thing I remember is throwing up on a pavement before everything goes black.I groan softly, bringing a hand to my face. My whole body feels like it has been wrung out and left to dry. Then, I hear a voice—soft, but filled with frustration."You're awake."Emily stands at the side of my hospital bed, arms crossed. Her lips are pressed together, and her eyes—God, her eyes hold so much emotion. Concern, exhaustion, and something else I can't quite place.I manage a weak smirk, though it probably looks more like a grimace. "Hey, angel. You here to scold me?"Emily sighs, shaking her head. "Carlos, you drank yourself into a hospital bed. What were you thinking?"I shrug, regretting it instant
The moment Justin leaves, the room feels suffocating. My fists clench at my sides as his words replay in my head over and over again.Emily and Alexander.I can practically see it. The two of them sitting at some fancy restaurant, laughing, sharing secret smiles. The way she used to look at me—that same soft gaze, the sparkle in her eyes when she was truly happy—is she giving it to him now? Does she tilt her head slightly when she laughs, the way she always did with me? Is she letting him pull out her chair, touch her lower back, brush her hair from her face?The image makes my chest feel like it’s burning.I grit my teeth, pacing around the hospital room. My stomach turns in protest, reminding me that I’m still recovering, but the jealousy burns hotter. I imagine Alexander leaning in, his lips brushing against hers, and suddenly, I want to throw something. My hand hovers over the tray table beside my bed.Does she let him kiss her?The thought is like gasoline on a fire. Frustration
CARLOS’ POVThe hospital room is suffocating. White walls. The beeping of machines. The stale scent of antiseptic. I’ve been stuck here for almost a day and no matter how much I try to block it out, one thought refuses to leave me alone. Emily.It’s pathetic how much space she takes up in my head. I tell myself I shouldn’t care. That she’s moving on. That we were never supposed to be anything more than a contract. But every time I close my eyes, she’s there. Her smile. Her laugh. The way she used to look at me like I was her entire world.And now? She looks at me like I’m a stranger. Like I don’t matter anymore.I rake a hand through my hair. I can feel the frustration burning through me. Why did I ever ask for that damn divorce? It made sense at the time. I was in love with Lina. I still am, right? Right?Oh Emily. Our marriage was never supposed to be real. But somewhere along the way, she became real to me.And now I’m losing her.I laugh bitterly, I never even realized I cared abo
LINA’S POVI hum as I drive down to the hospital, my fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. My mind is restless. Carlos called me last night. He had been drinking again. Typical. I need to see him. I need to make sure he’s okay.And Emily...Just the thought of her makes my blood boil. She’s still his wife, but not for long. Soon, she’ll be out of the picture, and I won’t have to see her smug little face again.Half a billion dollars.That’s what she’s getting in the divorce settlement.My knuckles turn white against the steering wheel. That money should be mine. I’ve been by Carlos’s side through every moment he needed someone to lean on. I was his first love. And yet, that worthless woman, Emily, is walking away with a fortune she doesn’t deserve.I bite my lip, deep in thought, when my phone buzzes. The screen lights up with an unknown number. My heart skips a beat. I know exactly who it is.Pressing the answer button, I bring the phone to my ear."What?" I ask
I can’t help but feel awkward as I sit stiffly at the card table with my grandmother and her three best friends. The women are deep in conversation as they play their card games.I don’t belong here.Not that I don’t love my grandmother—I adore her—but I’m not exactly in my element surrounded by women in their seventies discussing bridge strategies and the latest gossip about people I’ve never met. I sip my tea, nodding politely whenever one of them glances at me, but I’m mostly zoning out, counting the minutes until I can make my escape.My phone buzzes against my lap. I glance down at the screen, and my heart does a small flip when I see the name flashing across it.Alexander.Excusing myself as politely as possible, I slip into the hallway and answer the call.“Hello?”“Hey, Emily,” he says in that deep tone of his. “How are you?”I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “I’m fine.”A pause. “You don’t sound fine.”I chuckle. “I’ll get over it.”Alexander hesitates for a moment, the
I stand before my mirror, holding up a sleek, elegant black dress against myself. I tilt my head slightly. It’s nice, but is it… special enough?“Alright, what do you think?” I ask, shifting my phone slightly so Bridget can see me properly through the video call.Bridget, lying on her bed with a glass of wine in hand, squints at the screen before scrunching her nose. “Mmm, it’s alright, I guess. But babe, it’s the gala! You need something flashy. Something that makes Alexander’s jaw drop the second he sees you.”I sigh, tossing the dress onto my bed. “Ugh, I don’t know what to wear. I thought this was supposed to be elegant.”“Elegant, yes. But boring? No,” she teases. “C’mon, Emily. You’re going to be on his arm. You need to make a statement.”I bite my lip, glancing at my open wardrobe. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one scrambling last minute.”Bridget only grins. “That’s why you should always plan these things days in advance. But nooo, you wanted to ‘see how you felt’ the d
EMILY’S POVLina.I blink, unsure for a moment if my eyes are playing a cruel trick on me. But no—there she is.She looks as lavish as ever. She’s wearing a sparkly emerald gown that shimmers with every step she takes inside. Her smile is painted on perfectly, but her eyes—they’re wild.What’s she doing here?“Surprise,” she purrs.The room falls dead silent. A fork clatters somewhere across the table. You can hear the hum of the chandelier. Even the candles seem to flicker more nervously.Juliet leans into her wine glass and mutters not-so-quietly, “More like a nightmare.”Kathy snorts and rolls her eyes. “Of course she wore emerald. The color of envy and delusion.”I can’t move. I just stare at her as she slowly makes her way into the room, like a queen arriving late to her coronation. My mouth goes dry.“Carlos…” I whisper, my eyes never leaving Lina. “Did you… did you invite her?”Carlos turns to me, looking equally shocked. “What? No—no! Emily, I swear to you, I haven’t spoken to
Here’s your text rewritten in present tense, with no changes to the content—only the verb tenses have been updated:EMILY'S POVI stand in front of the full-length mirror in my room. My hand gently cradles my small but growing bump.We are having a baby girl. My baby girl. The thought still makes my heart flutter with disbelief and happiness. I run my fingers lightly over the curve of my stomach, biting my lower lip as tears sting the corners of my eyes.I never imagine I’d be here—expecting a child, standing in front of this mirror. Now, I will soon face Carlos and his entire family at dinner. My heart pounds with nerves.I shake my head, blinking the thoughts away, and reach for the necklace on the vanity. It is a silver chain with a little heart pendant—simple, but it was my grandmother's. I fasten it carefully, take a deep breath, and look at myself again. My stomach pushes slightly against the pale blue dress I wear. I smooth the fabric and smile nervously at my reflection.“You’
EMILY’S POVThree days. Just three days since the fire and here I am. Back in my studio like it never happened. Carlos did everything to try to convince me to stay home and rest but I still have a lot to do plus I’m feeling a lot better. I won’t let a little incident keep me down.The place is still in recovery mode, with ladders leaned against the walls and the sound of hammering echoing somewhere in the back. The constructors are fixing a lot of things. But I’m here. I’m working. And I’m grateful.My office window overlooks the worksite. A large tarp covers a partially scorched wall outside, but my design space—the heart of everything was mostly untouched. Thank God for insurance. Thank God for second chances.My sketchpad lies open in front of me, filled with new silhouettes and fabric swatches. My laptop rests on the cleanest part of my desk, set up for the biggest Zoom call of my life. The screen lights up with faces—eight board members of Juille Hart, one of the most luxurious f
EMILY'S POVI’m trapped.The air is thick, black, suffocating. I can see the flames all around me. It burns, just like the day my office caught fire. A baby cries in my arms. My heart pounds loudly with fear in my chest. Every step I take is so painful that it feels like a marathon. My legs shake beneath me as I trip over the remains of something I can't even recognize. The smoke goes into my lungs. My throat burns.The door slams behind me.I scream and twist toward it. “Carlos!” Suddenly, I hear someone calling my name—his voice? A shadow in the fire. I reach, but I can’t get to him. The flames close in like a cage. The baby wails louder. I jolt awake.A choked scream rips from my throat. My body convulses, launching me sideways off the bed. I hit the wooden floor hard. Something crashes—glass shatters.I scramble backwards on instinct, gasping for breath. My fingers dig into the floorboards.reality. The room is dark but all I see are flames. I can still see smoke in the corners.
Lina’s POVThe TV is on in the background, casting a soft glow over the living room. I’m not even really listening to the news report anymore—I’ve seen it so many times by now, I know it by heart.“—no suspects have been confirmed, but authorities believe the fire at the boutique was intentional…”I take another slow sip of wine, smiling a little as I watch the screen. The anchor’s serious voice tries to make sense of something they’ll never fully understand.“You should’ve stayed away, Emily,” I say to myself. I swirl the glass in my hand. “Now you’ll see what happens when you take what’s mine.”Then, my phone buzzes on the counter. The sound cuts through the silence.I pick it up.Unknown Number: Emily survived. My heart stops.I stare at the words for a second before they really hit me. Then the glass slips out of my hand.I throw it and it smashes against the wall. I barely notice the shards on the floor. All I can think about is that one line.She survived.I feel heat rise thro
DANIEL'S POV The minutes tick by slowly I stand near the corkboard, looking at every photo of Lina that I've managed to get. I tap my fingers on the table nearby, waiting impatiently for Carlos to get here. Just when I'm about to call him to ask where he is, I hear the slam of a car door outside. That has to be him. Finally.Carlos walks in nearly an hour late, and the second I see him, my chest tightens. Not from anger. From worry. My little brother looks like hell. Dark circles bruise the skin under his eyes, there's something that looks like soot on his jacket, and his eyes are red—bloodshot from exhaustion, worry, or maybe crying. He looks stiff, like every muscle in his body has forgotten how to relax.He doesn’t say hello. Doesn’t ask what’s going on. His voice is low as he walks forward. "Talk.” he says. I nod once and step away from the corkboard. “I’ve been doing some research on Lina.”Carlos frowns, confused. “Why?”“Because,” I say, “you’re too naïve to see that Lina
DANIEL’S POVThe room is dark. Papers are spread across the table like a crime scene—photos, documents, notes scribbled in red ink, and right in the center… her face.Lina.The corkboard is above my desk. Red string crisscrosses the board, pinning together events that, at first glance, seem unrelated. But I see it now. A pattern. Her name, her face, connected to outbursts, fights, assaults and now…I stare down at the folder in my hand—its edge creased from how tightly I’m gripping it. My thumb brushes over the bold red stamp on the front: Sealed Record. It took an old favor and an uncomfortable call to a cop I hadn’t spoken to in five years to get this. But it was worth it.I open the folder slowly and my eyes scan the page.Name: Lina Veronica HaleDOB: 09/14/1996Juvenile Record: SealedCharges: Arson, Harassment, Assault, StalkingI whisper to myself, breath catching in my throat. "Arson. Harassment. Assault. Stalking..."I drag a hand down my face "This girl’s been unhinged sinc
CARLOS’ POVThe sirens keep on blaring. Red lights reflect across the pavement as the ambulance doors fling open. I’m already running. My lungs are burning and my chest is heaving harder than it ever has before.“Emily!” I choke out her name, over and over. My throat is raw from smoke and yelling. My legs burn as I chase after the paramedics pushing her through the automatic doors of the ER.She looks lifeless. Her face is pale. Her lips are slightly parted and her hair clings to her face in sweaty knots. I can’t even tell where she’s burned, or if she’s burned, because everything just looks wrong. Like the life has been sucked out of her body and she’s just barely holding on.My heart crashes against my ribs like it wants to break free.“Please—Emily, baby, stay with me,” I beg, my voice cracking. The paramedics say something into their radios. The doors fling open for them, but a nurse blocks me from going in.I barely notice Bridget until she grabs my arm. She’s crying. Her fingers
CARLOS’ POVThe boardroom is almost silent except for the voices echoing off the table.The long table in front of me is filled with laptops, folders, and untouched glasses of mineral water. One by one, the board members present their reports—logistics, international expansion strategies, profit margins. I nod, make notes, ask questions. I’m doing everything I’m supposed to do.But I’m not here.My mind keeps drifting. Sliding back to her.To Emily.Her soft laugh, the smell of her hair when she curls into me, the way her fingers trace lazy patterns on my chest when she thinks I’m asleep. The way she smiles when she talks about her designs. The baby.Our baby.Last night keeps replaying in my mind. The way her lips trembled right before I kissed them. How she held onto me like she needed me to breathe. I haven’t stopped thinking about her since I left her this morning with a kiss on her forehead, promising I’d be done early today. A promise I’m already breaking.“Mr. Carter?” someone