Chapter 005

Jescyka’s POV

The whole day went by in a blur. I couldn’t stop replaying what happened with Darren—how wrong it was, yet how right it had felt in the moment. Maybe it was just the tequila. Maybe it was loneliness. Either way, I told myself not to dwell on it.

Marvy spent the day trying too hard—cracking bad jokes, telling stories I already knew were lies. I smiled when I had to, but mostly, I kept my eyes on my phone, pretending to be busy.

Later, I went upstairs, stripped down, and stepped into the shower. The hot water hit my skin, and I wished it could wash everything off—the anger, the guilt, and that stupid ache I still couldn’t name.

When I finally came out, hair dripping, half-dressed, I found myself staring at the woman in the mirror. How did my life go from bad to worse? But regret was luxury for me as Marvy pushed the door and stalked inside like he owned every part of me.

He looked wrecked: Taking a closer look at his face, I saw dark circles, wrinkled shirts, a bit of stubble like he hadn’t slept. Somehow, it almost worked on me. Those eyes…soft, pleading. Damn him.

“Jess,” he said, voice breaking just a little, like saying my name might erase everything. “I’m sorry.”

I crossed my arms and leaned against the counter. I didn't trust my mouth enough to answer.

He stepped closer, holding out roses instead of the usual lilies. Red, like that was supposed to mean something..

 “I love you,” he said. “I messed up. I swear it won’t happen again. Just… give me a chance to make it right.”

“A chance”. The word almost made me laugh. A magician’s trick, right? Flowers, apologies, pull panties out of a hat. But nothing came out of my mouth. Just silence.

Then he blurted, like he’d been rehearsing, “This weekend my family’s hosting a cruise. Just us. Out on the sea. I want you there. I want to introduce you to my parents. As my fiancée.”

For a heartbeat, I couldn’t breathe.

Once, that was all I’d ever wanted—to be his forever. Now the word fiancée felt like a leash on my neck.

I said nothing, and he thought that meant he still had a chance.

“I’ll pick you up Friday,” he added softly. “Just… think about it, Jess. Please.”

He left before I could answer.

When the door clicked shut, the apartment seemed to shrink around me. I leaned against the counter, chest tight, eyes burning.

There was a time I would’ve said yes without thinking.

***********

The following morning I headed out because work doesn’t wait for heartbreak to heal.

I dried my hair, threw on a black blazer and heels, and pretended to be fine.

Cityline Designs glinted in the morning sun, all glass and polish—the place Ethan and I had built from nothing.

He spotted me the second I walked in. His brows drew together, concern all over his face. Before I could even drop my bag, he was there.

“Jess,” he said, voice low, urgent. “I’m sorry.”

I blinked. “For what?”

“For leaving you last night. For letting Darren…” His jaw tightened. “For not being there.”

I shook my head, forcing a small smile that didn’t reach. “Ethan, it’s not your fault. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.. I pulled you into my mess. You didn’t ask for that.”

He pulled me into a hug.. The kind of hug that makes you want to fall apart because you finally can.

I let myself stay there for one breath—two—then stepped back.

“Marvy came by this morning,” I whispered.

Ethan’s whole body stiffened.

“He said he’s sorry. That he loves me. That he wants me back.” I paused. “And he invited me on his family’s weekend cruise. He said he wants to introduce me as his fiancée.”

Ethan gave a short, humorless laugh. “Of course he did. Break you, then patch it with a grand gesture. Classic Marvy.”

“He sounded sincere,” I said, hating how weak I sounded.

“Because he knows drama works on you.” His eyes darkened. “Jess, don’t let him pull you back. He doesn’t deserve you.”

I shrugged, half-smile slipping. “Maybe I just need to see for myself.”

That hit him hard; I could see it. His shoulders sagged, and he looked down, voice barely there. “You’ve already decided, haven’t you?”

I didn’t answer. Because maybe he was right. And maybe I didn’t even know what my answer was yet.

The rest of the day was filled with meetings, sketches. A client Ethan promised his job but ended up calling security to escort him out because his job wasn't ready and the client was impatient.

By the time I drove home, the sky had already turned that bruised orange that means the day’s ending whether you’re ready or not.

My head throbbed with too many voices—Marvy’s promises, Ethan’s warning, Darren’s silence.

The apartment was dim when I walked in. I flicked on the light and froze.

Roses.

Fresh ones. Dozens of them.

The old bouquet had vanished, replaced with new flowers trimmed to perfection. And there, right in the middle of my bed, was the ring box—open, diamond flashing like it knew it had good timing.

Beside it lay a note.

Forgive me. I’ll make it right. Please say yes.

I laughed once, a hollow sound. “A ring can’t erase panties, Marvy,” I muttered, tossing the note aside. The laugh stuck halfway out of my throat and turned into a shaky breath.

I caught sight of myself in the mirror. Wet hair, tired eyes, makeup half-gone. A woman pretending she hadn’t already cracked.

That was when I saw it.

A mark.

Just below my collarbone, faint but shining. A crescent moon. Silver.

I frowned, leaned closer. It shimmered when I moved.

“What the hell…”

I rubbed it hard. Nothing changed. It didn’t fade, it didn't smear.

I checked again—no bruise, no pain, just that strange, cold light sitting on my skin like it belonged there.

Did I seriously get drunk enough to get a tattoo? No. I’d remember that. Or at least I’d wake up sore or bandaged.

This looked… too clean.. Like it had been waiting under my skin all along.

My heart started pounding. The longer I stared, the brighter it seemed to get—faint but alive, like it was breathing with me.

Then my phone buzzed, loud in the quiet. I jumped.

Darren’s name glowed on the screen.

For a second, I thought about letting it ring. Let it go to voicemail. Let him fade into the mess he’d made in my head.

But my thumb moved before I could stop it.

“Jescyka.” His voice came low, that same tone that always seemed to find the softest part of me. “Are you feeling better?”

My eyes stayed locked on the mark. I touched it again; warmth pulsed under my fingers.

“I… guess,” I said. It came out more like a question.

He didn’t speak right away. I could hear his breath—slowly. Then, quietly he added, “Would you meet me tonight?”

My chest clenched, everything in me going still.. The mark under my fingertips flared hotter, like it could hear him. For one reckless heartbeat, I wanted to say yes. To stop thinking and just fall into whatever this was.

But shame came back fast and cold.

“Listen to me, Darren.” My voice shook, but I pushed through it. “Whatever happened last night…it was a mistake. A huge one. I regret it, and it’s not happening again.”

He didn’t respond. I could hear him breathe out, rough, like my words actually hurt.

“Don’t call me again,” I whispered. “Stay away from me.”

I hung up before I could lose my nerve.

The phone slipped out of my hand and hit the bed. I stared at the ceiling, waiting to feel better, lighter, anything.

Instead, the mark kept glowing faintly under the lamplight, like it was mocking me until sleep enveloped me.