Chapter 002

Jescyka’s POV 

How I left the house and got to the bar was a mystery, but in less than 30 minutes I was there.

Cone Bar always smelled the same. A mix of beer, sweat, fried food, and heartbreak. But somehow, that night, it felt safer than my own apartment.

Ethan was already there, tucked into the corner booth, hoodie sleeves pushed up, hair sticking up like he’d fought gravity on the way over. The second I walked in, he stood and pulled me into a hug. No questions, no words…just warmth and steadiness. For a moment, I could breathe again.

We sat. He ordered tequila before I could say no. “Drink,” he said simply, pushing the shot toward me. “Then tell me who made you sad.”

His words softened my heart and so I talked. I told him everything.

Melissa on his lap. The lipstick on his mouth. The necklace I thought was mine. The ring. The panties. The way Marvy had smiled like nothing had happened.

By the time I finished, my throat was raw. Ethan’s jaw worked hard, the muscle in his cheek twitching. “I told you he was trash,” he muttered.

“You did,” I said quietly. Ethan had never liked Marvy but now it's clear it's coming from a place of genuine love.

“You didn’t believe me.”

“I didn’t want to.” my voice crooked.

He leaned back, sighed through his nose. “You don’t deserve that, Jess.”

“I feel like an idiot for trusting him.”

“You’re not an idiot. You loved him. That’s not a crime—it’s just bad luck.”

I downed the shot. The tequila burned, sharply. At least it made me feel something other than shame.

Ethan tried to make me laugh, like he always did when I got too quiet. He told me about a client at work whose cat crashed his Zoom meeting and wouldn’t get off the keyboard. “The CEO was giving this big speech, and the cat just typed ‘ssssssssssss’ for thirty straight seconds,” he said, deadpan.

I snorted tequila up my nose. It stung like hell, but I laughed anyway. For a second, it even felt good. Then the laugh broke halfway, and the tears came back. “God, I hate him, Ethan.”

“I know.”

“I hate myself more for not seeing it.”

He shook his head. “Don’t do that. He made you doubt yourself. That’s on him, not you.”

He reached across the table, his hand covering mine—warmly. It shouldn’t have felt as comforting as it did.

The tequila dulled everything…the lights, the noise, even the ache in my chest—until all that was left was Ethan’s face across from me. His kind eyes. Tired smile. The only person who hadn’t walked away.

We sat there in silence for a while, just breathing the same air. Then Marvy’s name slipped out of my mouth, soft, like a bruise I couldn’t stop touching.

“I loved him,” I said quietly. “God, I was so sure he loved me too.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t speak. His hand brushed mine on the table—barely there, but enough to make my throat burn.

And then, before I could move or think or say anything, he leaned in and kissed me.

It wasn’t gentle. It was quick, desperate, like he’d been holding it back for too long and finally lost control. My breath caught. My tears were still wet on my lips, and he tasted them, along with the tequila and all the heartbreak between us.

For a second, I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t. The world was spinning, and his mouth was warm. All I just wanted was for the noise in my head to stop.

Then he broke the kiss, breathing hard, eyes darting between my face and the table. “Jess,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I shouldn’t have done that. I am sorry, I don't know what came over me.”

“I know.” The words came out cracked. My hands shook as I grabbed his sleeve, holding on like I was falling. “Just… don’t leave me alone tonight. Please.”

He swallowed hard. “Okay.”

He stood and helped me up, his hand steady on my waist as I tried to find my balance. My knees didn’t quite listen, but his arm stayed there—solidly behind me.

And even though every part of me knew this was wrong, I didn’t stop him.

I didn’t have the strength to.

We were halfway to the door when the air changed.

It wasn’t just me—it was the whole room. The noise dipped, like someone had turned down the volume of the world. People shifted, glancing around without knowing why.

That’s when I saw him.

Darren Coldridge.

Not on a screen. Not filtered through rumors or family gossip. Real. Right there in front of me.

Taller than I expected. Shoulders broad, his suit too expensive for a place like this. Black hair slicked back carelessly, a day’s worth of stubble on his jaw, and those eyes—amber, cold, and locked on me.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

It hit me then—deep, sudden—a pull that felt almost alive under my skin, like my body recognized him before my mind did. My pulse went wild, my skin buzzing like static.

Ethan tensed beside me. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Darren didn’t even glance at him. His gaze stayed on me, steady and unblinking. He didn’t have to say anything to make the whole room seem smaller.

He took a slow step closer. My heart stuttered. That strange pull tightened.

“Jess,” he said, and somehow my name sounded different coming from him—lower, deliberate, like he’d said it before when no one was listening.

My breath caught. “What are you doing here? You come to finish what your brother started?”

His jaw ticked, but there was something softer in his eyes, something dangerous in a quieter way. “No,” he said. “I came to take you away from this.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could get a word out, before Ethan could grab my arm, Darren’s hand slid to the small of my back—firm, unshakable. The heat of it went straight through me.

I should’ve stepped away. Should’ve told him to keep his hands off me. But my body betrayed me. I leaned in. Just slightly. Just enough.

Ethan moved like he wanted to stop him, but one look from Darren froze him mid-step—no shouting, no threat, just that commanding look.

Without another word, Darren guided me toward the exit, his hand still warm against my back. People stepped aside without realizing why.. My head was spinning.

He didn’t speak. Neither did I.

All I knew was that I was walking out of that bar with him, and every instinct in me said I shouldn’t—but somehow, I couldn’t make myself stop.