Aiden’s POV"I’m moving out."The words hung in the air like cigarette smoke, thick and suffocating.I didn’t say anything at first. I just stood there, staring at Cheryl as my mind tried to process what the hell she’d just said. There was an odd feeling in my chest—a twinge, small but sharp, like the moment you realize you left something important behind but can’t remember where.I turned slightly to the blonde still clinging to my arm, barely registering her presence now. She looked up at me with big, expectant eyes, but I wasn’t in the mood.“Give us a minute,” I murmured, barely sparing her a glance.She huffed, clearly annoyed, but still unlatched herself from my arm and strutted off toward the living room.I let out a slow breath and turned back to Cheryl. “What do you mean you’re moving out?” I asked, keeping my voice casual, stripping it of the edge that wanted to creep in.Cheryl hesitated. Just for a second.“You know, I always said I was going to move out,” she started, her
CHERYL'S POVI woke up to a house of blessed silence.No awkward run-ins. No tense, unsaid words hanging in the air like ghosts. No Aiden.I took a deep breath, inhaling the relief like it was freshly brewed coffee. The air had been thick ever since last night—ever since I dropped the bomb that I was moving out. If tension could be bottled and sold, our apartment could’ve been a freaking factory.And let’s not talk about the fact that after I thought he had disappeared into his room—with that blonde he dragged home—I had gotten up for a glass of water and almost face-planted into him in the dimly lit kitchen.Talk about bad luck.There we were, standing in a painfully awkward silence. Him, grabbing a juice carton. Me, clutching my glass of water like it was my emotional support beverage. I could barely meet his eyes, and he didn’t even try to say something stupid, which somehow made it worse. I should have just abandoned the water and walked right out, but nooo, I stood there, like an
Aiden's POVThe moment I stepped into my office, the heavy silence greeted me first. It was the kind that pressed down, thick and oppressive, like the weight of the past refusing to stay buried. I swallowed it down, forcing my focus on the only thing that could keep me sane—work.Numbers. Contracts. Emails. Anything to drown out the thoughts clawing at the back of my mind.But then I saw her.Anika.She was sitting on the couch near the floor-to-ceiling windows, legs crossed at the knee, a picture of effortless confidence. She didn't glance up right away. No, she made sure I saw her first. Her lips parted slightly, her jaw moving slow and deliberate as she chewed her gum, the glossy pink sheen of it catching the morning light. Then, with an almost practiced sensuality, she blew a bubble, holding my gaze as it popped.My grip tightened around the handle of my briefcase.I hadn’t invited her here.Hell, I hadn’t even seen her since the benefit that night. Hadn’t texted. Hadn’t called. A
CherylI was already late.Like, ridiculously, embarrassingly late. Damon who was both my boss and somehow a lover was going to have my head, but in my defense, it wasn’t entirely my fault. Okay, maybe it was. Just a little. But what was I supposed to do? The second I left that stupid insurance building, my brain had started spiraling.Had Aiden gotten the message? Had he even seen it yet? Was he going to call me? Was he going to ask me to come with him?Did I want him to?Of course, I did.And that was the problem.The tension between us wasn’t something you could just wave off. It was heavy, electric, the kind that wrapped itself around your throat, making it impossible to breathe. The kind of thing neither of us ever acknowledged, even though it crackled in the air every time we were near each other.So, instead of driving straight to work like a responsible adult, I stopped at a café to grab a sugary drink and tame the ridiculous rush in my head. Caffeine would’ve just made things
AidenHospitals had a way of making you feel like a kid again.Like you were small. Like you didn’t belong. Like every bad memory you ever tried to bury clawed its way up to remind you that you weren’t as grown as you pretended to be.I moved through the lobby with long, purposeful strides, the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing like an unwanted thought in the back of my mind. I could hear Anika’s heels clicking against the tile behind me, but I barely registered it. My focus was on one thing and one thing only.Her.She was here. She was alive.And she was dying.The irony wasn’t lost on me.I barely noticed the people around me, barely noticed the nurses bustling from one side of the room to another, barely noticed the smell of antiseptic clogging my nostrils. But then, I noticed her.Cheryl.She stood near the waiting area, arms wrapped around herself, her body slightly hunched forward like she wanted to fold into herself and disappear. The second she looked up and locked eyes wit
CherylThe hospital air felt suffocating.I stepped out of the room, exhaling a breath I hadn't even realized I was holding, pressing a hand to my chest like I could physically loosen the tight, inexplicable knot forming there.It made no sense.Why did it feel like I was the one left behind?Aiden hadn't looked at me once. Not when he spoke to Molly. Not when he walked out. Not even when I left the room. I could have been a ghost, and it wouldn’t have made a difference.I let out a bitter chuckle. He didn’t need me.And I wasn’t sure why that hurt.The vibration of my phone startled me, dragging me out of my ridiculous thoughts. I pulled it out of my pocket, and Damon’s name flashed across the screen.I hesitated.I had texted him earlier that there was an emergency, but I hadn’t told him the emergency was Aiden. I let the call ring out, waiting for it to go to voicemail.Seconds later, my screen lit up with a message."I found a place for you."My fingers hovered over the keyboard,
Cheryl"Wait—what?!"My voice came out sharp, my eyes snapping up to meet Damon’s, searching his face like maybe—just maybe—I had misheard him.He looked utterly unbothered. Like he had just told me he picked up my dry cleaning instead of dropping thousands of dollars on a house."You heard me," he said smoothly, hands slipping into his pockets, his stance too damn relaxed. "I already paid for it."I let out a short, breathy laugh, running a hand through my hair. "You’re joking, right? This is a joke?"Damon tilted his head, watching me with that unreadable expression of his."Do I look like I’m joking?"I took a step back, shaking my head. "Damon, no. No. I told you—I can’t let you pay for this. We talked about this.""And I heard you," he said, his voice calm in contrast to the mini panic attack rising in my chest. "I just decided I didn’t care.""You didn’t—" I stopped myself, pressing my fingers to my temples. "Damon, this is insane. This isn’t just a new phone or a fancy dinner.
CHERYLMoving day. The day I was finally supposed to pack up my life and start over.I should be excited.I should be jumping for joy.Instead? I was standing in the middle of the hallway, dressed in the absolute worst color choice for a move-in day—white.A white sweater. Sweatpants. What was I thinking?Too late to change now. The movers were already outside, lugging my stuff into the van, while Damon stood by, making sure everything was moving smoothly. Like the bossy, take-charge man that he was.He looked ridiculously sexy in all black, but that wasn’t where my mind was.My mind was stuck upstairs.With him.Aiden.The man I had spent years hating.The same man who had somehow, some way, managed to wedge himself into my head like an unsolvable riddle.We had spoken earlier that morning—if I could even call it that.A muttered “good morning” from him.A reminder from me about the party later that evening.And then—he vanished.Into his room. Into his thoughts. Into the awkward, su
CHERYLFor a moment, I couldn’t tell if the thudding in my chest was from the alcohol or the words he’d just said.“Because I don’t plan on holding back.”Oliver sat there so calmly, like he hadn’t just dropped a live grenade between us. His face gave away nothing—no nervous twitch of the lips, no uncertain glint in his eyes. Just that same cool, casual mystery that had always surrounded him, even back when he was just the quiet kid in science class with ink-stained fingers and oversized glasses.But he wasn’t that boy anymore.He was something else now. A little rough around the edges. Confident. Measured. Attractive in a quiet, dangerous kind of way that made your mind wander where it shouldn’t.My fingers tightened around the base of my wine glass. “Oliver…” I started, then stopped. I didn’t even know where I was going with that. I wasn’t prepared for this—him—to come storming into my life with this kind of certainty. Not when everything else felt so undefined. Especially Aiden.Es
CHERYLI hadn’t laughed like that in a while.Not the polite kind of laughter, This was different. It was real. The kind that made my cheeks warm and brought tears to my eyes. The kind I used to have back when life was simpler and happiness didn’t feel like some expensive thing you had to earn with heartbreak.Oliver Barker.I couldn’t believe I’d run into him—here of all places, looking like he had just stepped out of some casual fashion catalog: dark jeans, a grey henley that clung to his arms in a way that hinted he’d been doing more than reading books lately, and that same untamed hair, a little longer now, brushing his forehead like it had a mind of its own. There was still something reserved about him—like he existed a beat away from the world—but that was part of the charm.I remembered him instantly.Back in high school, he was the quiet one in science class who always got the formulas right, the typ who wrote the answers with a bored flick of his wrist while everyone else scr
CHERYL“Oliver,” I repeated, like tasting a name I hadn’t spoken in years. “Is it really you?”His smile deepened, soft and unreadable, like he was trying to decide if I was real too. He looked the same, and yet completely different. The boy I remembered had worn oversized glasses and carried too many books for one person. Now, he stood tall and self-assured, the years having carved definition into his jaw and stillness into his presence. There was something easy in the way he looked at me, casual—but veiled. Like he knew more than he let on.“I didn’t think I’d ever run into you here,” he said, stepping closer beneath the café’s warm glow. “It’s been… what? how many years?”I laughed softly. “More or less. You look good.”He glanced down at himself with mock curiosity. “I clean up better without the braces and the broken voice, huh?”“Definitely an upgrade,” I teased, a grin tugging at my lips before I could stop it.His eyes twinkled. “You haven’t changed much, Cheryl - you still lo
CHERYLMy heart slammed against my ribs so loudly I could hear it—like it was trying to speak before I could.Aiden’s voice still rang in my ears, soft but firm. “Come with me. I'll explain everything, I'll tell you everything.”And then Damon’s—darker, lower. “Don’t move.”I stood between them like the axis of some cruel universe, their opposing gravities tugging at my ribs. The silence that fell wasn’t peaceful. It was the kind that howled beneath your skin. The kind you find just before a car crashes or a gun fires.My feet didn’t move. But everything inside me did.Aiden was looking at me like I was salvation, or maybe a last chance. And Damon? Damon’s face was unreadable—except for his eyes. His eyes were sharp and cold, yet… pleading.That was the worst part. Damon never pleaded.My gaze dropped to his chest, to the white bandage stark against his olive skin, to the dried blood that clung stubbornly to the edge of his open shirt.I did that. I shot him.He should hate me. But in
AIDENI should’ve known the address Damon sent wasn’t neutral ground. I mean I did recognise the address but I didn't think she'd be there too.The moment I stepped into the sleek, modern living room, the temperature dropped ten degrees. Not because of the air-conditioning, but because of her—Cheryl, sitting on one of those black leather chairs like she belonged there, and Damon, standing behind her with that arrogant smirk and a half-drunk glass of whiskey in his hand.The sight stopped me mid-step.I hadn’t prepared for this—hadn’t prepared to see her again in his space. The last time I’d seen her, she was shaking, holding a gun, her hands stained with fear and guilt. And now? Now she looked too calm, too collected, like she hadn’t just watched me disappear into the shadows of chaos.But what got me the most… was that she didn’t look surprised, maybe she did, I wasn't particularly looking at her. I was staring daggers into Damon's eyes“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I said,
CHERYL'S POVThe sky hung heavy and gray above me as I drove, casting the entire town in a muted haze. It was the kind of weather that whispered secrets and warned of storms—fitting for the place I was heading. Damon’s house. Or, more accurately, the house Damon bought for me. My grip on the steering wheel tightened as I turned onto the long, winding driveway. The structure loomed into view like a forgotten secret—modern, cold, and elegant. It hadn’t changed. White concrete walls, dark paneling, glass edges that reflected the world but let no one in. It was still as breathtaking and lonely as the man who owned it.I parked and stepped out slowly, gravel crunching underfoot. The keypad beside the tall black door blinked awake as I approached. I didn’t hesitate—my fingers moved by memory, punching in the code he had set using my birthday. There was a soft click, and then the door opened with a sigh, as if the house had been holding its breath all this time.Silence met me inside.Thick
Cheryl’s POVI stared at the phone on my dresser for longer than I should have, the contact name glowing like it knew too much — like it was mocking me.Damon.I didn't even know what I wanted to say. What did you say to a man you shot? To a man you might've killed — who might still be bleeding out in some forgotten room?Still, my fingers moved on their own, like muscle memory. I tapped the call button before I could talk myself out of it. I held my breath as the dial tone started.Once.Twice.Three times.He’s not going to pick up, I told myself. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe—Click.His voice, low and gruff, filled my ears like smoke curling under a door."What a pleasant surprise," he said.I froze. My throat clenched, mouth suddenly dry."...You're okay," I managed. My voice sounded far away, like someone else had spoken for me."For the most part," he said, and I could almost hear the smirk beneath his words. "But my heart is still broken. Wasn’t expecting the woman I’m in
Cheryl’s POVThe morning light streamed through the pale curtains, brushing my room in gold, but it only made the pounding guilt in my head stronger.I sat up slowly, rubbing my arms, feeling the faint bruises of last night's chaos beneath my skin. It was almost absurd how normal everything looked. The smell of bacon frying downstairs, the creak of the old wood floors in my aunt’s house, the chirping of birds outside.But inside me?Nothing felt normal.Every time I closed my eyes, the gunshot echoed in my brain — loud, sharp, deadly. My fingers twitched at the memory, and I recoiled, wrapping my arms around my knees like they could somehow hold me together.I had shot someone.Not just anyone. Damon.I hadn't meant to — God, I hadn't meant to. It was instinct, pure reflex. I had seen the gun pressed to Aiden’s head and I hadn’t thought — I had acted.Like some wild animal, desperate to protect.But the more I thought about it… the more I realized the sinking truth:I wasn’t sure I ha
Cheryl’s POVThe moment I felt his arms wrap around me, I thought everything would be okay. For a single, fleeting second, the chaos quieted. But then I looked down. My eyes found Damon’s body lying limp on the cold, cracked earth, blood blooming beneath him like ink spilled from a broken pen.That’s when it hit me.I had shot someone.I had taken a life. Maybe not completely yet, but I could see the way his chest rose in stuttered breaths, each one weaker than the last. His blood... his blood was on me.I stepped out of Aiden’s embrace like I was in a daze, my body numb, the gun suddenly burning hot in my hands. I dropped it. It clattered to the ground like it had fulfilled its purpose.“We need to call someone,” I breathed. “911. We have to call for help.”Aiden’s voice was firm but low. “We need to get the hell out of here, Cheryl. Now. Before Alejandro realizes what’s happening.”“No!” I snapped, shaking my head. My voice cracked. “No, we can’t just leave him like that. I shot him