Chapter 1

Yasmine’s POV

I hum softly, hair tied in a loose bun with stray strands framing my face. With one last stroke, I step back from the canvas.

The Wildflower Collection.

The painting glows with freedom and wild beauty. My chest swells with pride. Weeks of sleepless nights, coffee-fueled mornings, and aching fingers and finally, it’s done.

I peel off my apron, stained with splashes of color, and hang it on the rack. In the restroom, I let my hair tumble loose, long waves falling down my back. A swipe of peach lipstick, moisturizer on my hands, and I look a little less like a sleep-deprived artist and more like a woman who deserves to breathe again.

Tonight, I’ll surprise Nathan. Two weeks apart is long enough.

Grabbing my tote, I lock up the studio and step into the vibrant hum of New York. My phone buzzes as I dial Matthew my best friend, my agent, the shameless CEO of Bohemian Galleries.

“Yasmine, my girl!” his cheerful voice booms.

I chuckle. “Hey, Matt. Just wanted to tell you I’m done. The Wildflower Collection is complete.”

“Wow, that’s fantastic! Drinks tonight, my treat.”

I shake my head, smiling. “Not tonight. I’m going to see Nathan. It’s been a while, and I don’t want him feeling neglected. Tomorrow we can shop, okay?”

“Fine, fine. But after weeks of hard work, you deserve more than champagne. Go get laid, babe.”

“Matt!” Heat rushes to my cheeks. “You’re impossible.”

Laughing, I spot a taxi and wave it down. “I’ll call you later.”

“Bye, troublemaker.”

I slide into the cab. “Madison Avenue, please.”

***********

The apartment door clicks open after I punch in the code. My arms ache from the grocery bags, but my heart beats fast with excitement. I drop the bags on the counter and call out:

“Nathan? I’m here!”

No answer.

Frowning, I head toward the bedroom and freeze.

A blonde woman in a terry robe sits at the vanity, mascara wand in hand. She blinks at me like I’m the intruder.

“Who are you?” she asks.

I laugh, sharp and cold. “Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing.”

She tilts her head, lips curling. “Nathan, baby? Come here!”

My stomach twists.

And then he appears head poking out of the bathroom, toothbrush between his teeth, that same crooked smile I once adored.

“Coming! What’s up, Cassandra

” His words die when his gaze locks on me. His face drains of color. “Yasmine? Baby? What are you....”

“Don’t you dare,” I snap, my voice trembling with fury.

Cassie swivels to him. “Wait. Who the hell is she?”

“She’s...”

“I’m his fiancee,” I cut in, my eyes burning. “Or I was. Apparently, he forgot to mention that part while screwing you.”

Cassie’s jaw drops. “Fiancee? You told me you were single!”

I laugh bitterly. “Oh, Nathan. A year with her, an engagement with me… You must be exhausted juggling your lies.”

Nathan steps closer, hands out like I’m some wild animal he needs to soothe. “Yas, please. It was a mistake. I swear, it meant nothing.”

“A mistake?” My voice cracks. “Is that what you call this?”

I turn to Cassie. “Hear that? He says you’re the mistake. How long has this been going on?”

Her face flushes red. She stands, yanking clothes off the floor and muttering curses. “Unbelievable. I wasted a year on you.”

Nathan flinches. “Cassie, don’t ”

“Don’t what?” she spits, jamming her legs into jeans. “You’re a liar. And you ” She points at me. “I’m sorry. You deserve better than this trash.”

She storms out, heels clacking like gunshots. The door slams, leaving silence thick enough to choke on.

Nathan rakes a hand through his damp hair. “Yas, listen. We can fix this. The wedding’s in two months. Don’t throw everything away because of one stupid fuck"

“Don’t you dare put this on me.” My hands shake as I drag a suitcase from the wardrobe. Clothes fly into it, one after another. “You cheated. You lied. You broke us.”

“Stop! You’re overreacting...”

I whirl on him, eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Overreacting? Do you want me to clap politely while you screw around behind my back? Should I just smile and bake a damn wedding cake?”

“Yas....”

“No.” I slam the suitcase shut. “I’m done. This condo is the only thing tying us together, and I’ll call the realtor tomorrow. I’m staying with Matt tonight.”

His face twists, anger flashing. “Fine! Do whatever you want!”

I drag the suitcase toward the door, heart shattering with every step.

“Exactly,” I spit, yanking the door open. “I will.”

The slam echoes down the hallway.

My chest heaves, hot tears burning but I don’t look back.

Because this time, I’m not the one losing. He is.