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luxury coping mechanism
publish date:
2026-08-15 21:12:32
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The Wrong Bernardi luxury coping mechanism
So I made a cake.A lemon olive oil cake, because apparently I had a terrible pattern in life and kept giving lemon-flavored things to problematic men, sharp-tongued best friends, and houses that needed to smell like something other than bad decisions. This one was not for Rhysand. That was important. I even said it out loud while zesting a lemon into the bowl.“This is not for Rhysand.”I mixed eggs, sugar, olive oil, lemon zest, yogurt, almond flour, a little vanilla, and salt. The mixer hummed softly. Morning light poured through the large windows, reflecting off the stainless-steel bowl, my nude-red nails, and the thin ring on my finger that I’d bought for myself after Cruz Atelier landed its first six-figure client. That ring always comforted me. There was no man behind it. No promise. No family contract. Just me, a paid invoice, and good taste.The cake went into the oven at nine-oh-two.The smell started rising twenty minutes later.Lemon. Sugar. Warm olive oil. A little elegan
The Wrong Bernardi scope creep, emotionally
This morning, I decided not to go into the office.Not because I was afraid of running into Rhysand. Obviously not.I was Maya de Cruz. I did not fear men. I charged them layout change fees after business hours and made them repeat themselves if they called me sweetheart. I once made a billionaire wait seventeen minutes outside a ballroom because he said, “All white flowers are basically the same,” and needed time to repent.So no, I was not afraid of Rhysand Bernadi, the man who had stood in my kitchen yesterday, laughed because I threw a wet sponge at him, then gone to dinner with his fiancée after leaving behind sentences that should’ve been locked in a basement and labeled flammable.I was simply choosing to work from home.Like an adult woman.In cream silk pants, a thin off-the-shoulder sweater, my hair tied up carelessly, and my laptop open on the kitchen island like a small altar where I sacrificed my patience.Aiden was already at school.That helped.The house without Aiden
The Wrong Bernardi i’m being beautiful and right
There was a door cracked open somewhere I’d spent years nailing shut from the inside, and the wind came through carrying the smell of the ocean, lemon soap, and an old sin with a face far too handsome for its own good.I looked at him and laughed sharply. “Wow,” I said. “Truly incredible. Five years, one child, one fiancée, a wedding contract buried under NDAs, and you finally managed to put together a sentence that makes me want to slap you with something organic.”Rhysand didn’t smile, but something in his eyes shifted. “Organic?”“I have lavender outside.”“Old threat.”“I’m sentimental.”“Are you angry because I said it, or because I said it too late?”I stared at him flatly. “I’m angry because you said it in my kitchen while my son is sleeping upstairs and your fiancée is waiting for dinner tonight. See? I can multitask. Modern woman.”“Our son.”The air left my lungs slowly.I put both hands on the counter. “Don’t.”Rhysand didn’t back down. “He’s our son.”“I said don’t.”“I’m
The Wrong Bernardi professionally horrified, personally doomed
I stared at him.One second.Two.Then I laughed. “Sorry?” I said. “Did you suffer some minor brain injury while Aiden was in the bath? Because I can call a doctor. Or an exorcist. Both have difficult schedules, but for your face they might be willing to squeeze you in.”He leaned his hip against the counter. “That’s not an answer.”“Because it was a stupid question.”“Stupid questions tend to get interesting reactions out of you.”“You’re not flirting with a bartender in Monaco, Rhysand. You’re standing in my kitchen after your fiancée called sounding like a woman trying to arrange lunch with the man she’s going to marry, while that man looked more enthusiastic about leftover ajiaco and a little boy with soap in his hair.”His smile slowly faded.Good.Finally.I took one step forward, not too close. “So no, I’m not jealous. I’m disgusted by the moral math of all of us.”“All of us?”“You. Me.” I shrugged. “Maybe this towel too, because it’s witnessed too much.”Rhysand looked at me
The Wrong Bernardi handsome men should fail more visibly
Rhysand lowered the phone from his ear. He looked at the screen for a moment, his thumb still against the side of it, his face closing off again in a way I was starting to know too well.I set the towel on the counter.Rhysand slipped the phone into his pocket.I didn’t look at him.That was a lie.I looked at him from the corner of my eye, which technically counted as an elegant compromise between dignity and personal failure.He didn’t move to leave.I picked up the last glass from the sink and rinsed it again. The glass was already clean. I knew it. The glass knew it. God, if He was watching from the clouds with an espresso, knew it too. But I rinsed it anyway, because otherwise I might have to say something.The problem was, the sentence was already there.Sitting on the tip of my tongue in good shoes, waiting for someone to open the door.This morning, Gracie had stood in the fitting room in a half-finished white dress, her blond hair lifted by the stylist, her face beautiful in
The Wrong Bernardi all rise for bad decisions
The house became too quiet.It was strange how a house that had been full of Aiden’s voice, dishes, running water, and little bursts of laughter just minutes ago could suddenly feel like someone had turned off the music in a ballroom. The ocean was still moving beyond the glass. The dishwasher hadn’t started yet. The air-conditioning hummed softly. But between all those small sounds, there was one enormous silence sitting in the middle of the kitchen like an uninvited guest.I went in first and immediately started clearing the plates from the table.Rhysand picked up two bowls before I could stop him.“Leave them,” I said.He carried the bowls to the sink. “No.”“You don’t have to wash dishes to prove something.”“I’m not proving anything.” He set the bowls in the sink, then picked up Aiden’s plate, which still had a few grains of rice stuck to the edge. “I’m stalling before you kick me out.”I stopped with a plate in my hand.At least he was honest. Extremely annoying when handsome m
The Wrong Bernardi Bad Boy Kiss Better
He picked up his whiskey and took a small sip. It’s too easy. Too controlled. I wanted to disturb him. I wanted to make him lose his flat fucking face. I wanted something tonight to be messy, unmanaged, not wrapped in family and money and shame.“I’m not a good man, Maya,” he said quietly.“I know.
The Wrong Bernardi Tequila and Bad Idea
Late night, I’m at a beachside club with a glass of tequila in front of my face and a bartender looking at me like I’m an expensive potted plant that had suddenly started smoking.His name was probably Kai. Or Koa. Or something very Hawaiian and very undeserving of being dragged into the Bernadi fa
The Wrong Bernardi The Door Was Unlocked
After spending the entire day making sure my wedding did not turn into a disaster with expensive flowers, I finally collapsed onto the bed in my suite, one foot still in a heel and the other already surrendered to humanity.Tomorrow, I’m going to become Mrs. Bernadi.That should have made me blush,
The Wrong Bernardi Bad Reputation, Better Smile
Ricky took my hand and led me through the crowd. A few guests turned to look. Someone called my name. My aunt from Cartagena waved far too enthusiastically.I ignored her.Then I saw Rhysand Bernadi.And the most annoying thing was that Ricky had not been exaggerating.The man stood at the edge of
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