Chapter 5 – Mom Introduces Her New Fiancé

LENA

I don’t know why I agreed to this.

Maybe it was guilt, maybe obligation, maybe the tiniest thread of hope that I was wrong. That my mom’s mystery man wasn’t who I thought. That fate wasn’t so cruel it would play this kind of joke on me.

But deep down, I knew.

From the moment she called him incredible, successful, handsome, a shiver of recognition ran through me. My gut screamed the truth I didn’t want to face. Still, I got dressed anyway, standing in front of my closet like I was suiting up for war.

And it was war—against my own heart.

By the time I pulled up to the restaurant she’d chosen—an upscale place with valet parking and white tablecloths—I already wanted to run. My stomach twisted, my palms damp. The hostess smiled brightly as she led me through the maze of soft lighting and clinking glasses, every step making my pulse pound harder.

Then I saw her.

Vivian Carter, my glamorous, eternally put-together mother, perched at a corner table in a silk blouse that probably cost more than my rent. Her hair was styled, her lipstick perfect, her expression smug in that way only she could pull off.

And across from her—

I stopped breathing.

Roman Wolfe.

He was dressed in a dark suit, the kind that looked tailored to his broad frame, and his gaze lifted at the exact moment mine did. Our eyes locked, and I swore the room tilted.

I knew him instantly. The man who had kissed me like I was the only woman alive. The man whose ring was still on my finger, hidden under a sleeve. The man I’d married in a haze of laughter and bad decisions.

And now, my mother’s fiancé.

“Lena!” Mom waved me over, beaming. “Finally. I was starting to think you wouldn’t come.”

I forced my legs to move, each step heavier than the last, until I reached the table. My voice scraped out, brittle. “Hi, Mom.”

She stood, air-kissing my cheek before gesturing between us like a magician unveiling her grand trick. “This is him. Roman Wolfe. My future husband.”

I felt sick. My chest constricted, a thousand memories slamming into me all at once—the vows, the way his hand had held mine, his voice calling me his wife.

Roman didn’t flinch. He didn’t betray a flicker of recognition. His face was calm, composed, maybe even cold. But his eyes… oh, his eyes gave him away. Dark, burning, steady on me as if to say, I know exactly who you are.

“Lena,” he said smoothly, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

Finally meet me.

Like we hadn’t already met in the most reckless, intimate way possible. Like we weren’t bound by a piece of paper sitting in some drawer in Nevada.

I pasted on a brittle smile, praying my mom couldn’t hear the frantic hammer of my heartbeat. “Nice to meet you too.”

Mom sighed, clasping her hands together, practically glowing. “Isn’t he perfect?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My throat was tight, my palms trembling under the table.

The waiter appeared, rattling off specials, and I latched onto the distraction like a lifeline. I ordered the first thing on the menu, not even hearing what it was, just desperate to keep from looking at Roman. But it didn’t matter. His gaze burned into me the entire time.

Every nerve in my body screamed with awareness.

My mom chattered on about how they’d met—some charity gala, of course—and how Roman had swept her off her feet. I barely heard a word. My mind kept circling back to that night in Vegas, to the way he’d whispered mine against my skin.

And now my mom was calling him hers.

I wanted to scream.

Instead, I kept my mask firmly in place, nodding at the right moments, pretending to be fascinated by their story while fighting the bile rising in my throat.

Halfway through the meal, Mom excused herself to the restroom, leaving me alone with him.

The air thickened instantly.

I kept my eyes fixed on my water glass, my pulse skittering. He didn’t say anything at first, just sat there, watching me. The silence stretched until I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Why are you here?” I hissed under my breath, low enough that only he could hear.

Roman leaned back in his chair, utterly composed, his expression unreadable. “The same reason you are. Your mother invited me.”

My jaw clenched. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

His lips curved, but it wasn’t amusement—it was something sharper, darker. “I’m here because fate has a sense of humor. And because, Lena…” His voice dropped lower, velvet and steel. “I’m not letting you run again.”

My stomach flipped violently. Heat surged through me, anger and fear and something I didn’t want to name.

“You can’t be with her,” I whispered harshly. “This is insane.”

He tilted his head, eyes never leaving mine. “What’s insane is you thinking you could just walk away and pretend none of it happened.”

I gripped my napkin so tightly it tore. “We were drunk. It was a mistake.”

“Was it?” His tone was soft, but it cut like a blade. “Because I remember you looking me in the eye and saying yes. I remember you choosing me.”

I shook my head, panic clawing at my chest. “Don’t. Don’t do this.”

Before he could respond, Mom returned, all smiles, oblivious to the storm raging under the table. She slid back into her seat and reached for Roman’s hand, and my stomach twisted as I watched him let her.

But his eyes—his eyes never left me.

The rest of the meal passed in a blur. I laughed when Mom laughed, I smiled when I was supposed to, but inside, I was unraveling. By the time dessert came, my nerves were shredded.

When we finally stood to leave, Mom hooked her arm through Roman’s, glowing with pride. “Isn’t he wonderful, Lena?”

I swallowed hard, forcing out the only word I could manage. “Yeah.”

Roman’s gaze flicked to mine, a silent challenge burning there. A promise.

And as I stepped out into the cool night air, my chest constricted so tightly I could barely breathe.

Because this wasn’t over. Not even close.

And when Roman finally moved—his hand brushing deliberately against mine as we walked out—I knew with bone-deep certainty that my world was about to shatter all over again.