The trap

June curled up on her couch, a soft blanket over her legs and a glass of white wine in her hand. Her phone lay on speaker beside her, and the comforting voice of her best friend, Amara, filtered through, echoing the concern only someone who truly cared could carry.

“So…” Amara’s voice trailed dramatically, “you’re really saying he asked you to be his girlfriend?”

June exhaled a dreamy sigh. “Yes. He did. Last night.”

“Okay, don’t keep me in suspense. Spill it all. What happened?”

June smiled despite herself, staring at the bracelet on her wrist—silver, delicate, inscribed with words that had haunted her all day: "For every scar, a story. And you, June, are poetry."

“He set up this… this beautiful rooftop dinner. It felt like something out of a movie, Amara. Candlelight, city lights, soft music, and he cooked too—well, hired a chef, but you get the idea.”

“Hmm… classic seduction move.”

“Stop it,” June giggled, blushing even though she was alone. “He was sweet. Thoughtful. Present. He asked questions, listened, made me laugh. He didn’t rush anything. Well… until the end.”

“What happened at the end?”

“He asked me to be his girlfriend. Just like that. No fuss. No games. He said he wasn’t asking for everything, just a chance.”

There was a pause on the other end of the call.

Then Amara’s voice came gently, “And what did you say?”

“I said… I’d consider it.”

Amara sighed deeply. “June, girl, you’re still healing. You’ve barely just begun putting your life together again, and now you’re falling into something new. I get that Xander might seem amazing and maybe he is but you’ve only known him for what… weeks?”

“Time doesn’t define connection,” June replied softly. “It’s not about how long we’ve known each other. It’s how he makes me feel. Safe. Wanted. He doesn’t compare me to anyone. Doesn’t carry judgment. He looks at me like I’m not broken.”

“Okay, that’s fair. But you have to understand my hesitation,” Amara said firmly. “You thought you had that with Larry too, remember? He looked at you like you were his world… until he didn’t. You gave your heart to him, and he crushed it like it meant nothing. I was the one who held your hand through those nights when you cried yourself to sleep, June. I can’t watch that happen to you again.”

June went quiet. Her hand moved instinctively to her stomach the memory of the child she lost, of bleeding on that cold bathroom floor, of waking up alone.

“I know,” she whispered. “But Xander isn’t Larry.”

“I hope so,” Amara said, her voice softening. “I really do. But sometimes, people can wear masks so well that we don’t see the truth until it’s too late.”

June leaned back into the couch, her eyes glassy.

“You don’t trust him,” she said.

“I don’t know him,” Amara corrected. “But I trust you. And I trust your instincts. I’m just asking you not to rush. Don’t let the desire to feel loved again blind you to the red flags you haven’t even noticed yet.”

June was quiet for a moment before murmuring, “You’ll like him once you meet him. He’s really sweet. Loving. Gentle.”

“And has he met your scars?” Amara asked.

June blinked.

“Has he seen you at your worst? Has he held you when the night trembles with the echoes of Larry’s betrayal? Because loving someone isn’t about dinner dates and flowers, June. It’s about staying when things aren’t beautiful.”

June swallowed hard. “I think he would.”

“I hope he does,” Amara replied, sighing. “Just don’t give him your heart before he’s earned it. Completely.”

“I haven’t given him an answer yet,” June said. “But soon.”

“You promise you’ll think about it first?”

June smiled softly. “I promise.”

They ended the call, and June sat for a long moment, staring into space, fingers idly tracing the bracelet. Xander’s smile flashed in her mind the way he looked at her last night, the way his arms felt around her, the softness of his voice when he said, You make me want more out of life.

Xander paced around his living room, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a tumbler of whiskey he hadn’t touched. The amber liquid swirled as his mind did the same spinning in a thousand directions, torn between desire, guilt, and the pressing weight of his father’s voice ringing in his head:

"Seduce her. Get her drunk. Get her pregnant. Marry her. Save the company. Do what you have to do, Xander. You don’t have time to feel."

But feelings were exactly what he was drowning in.

June Williams had become something he didn’t plan for unpredictable variable in a carefully orchestrated scheme. And worse, she had crept into the one part of him that had been locked away for years: his heart.

But he couldn’t let that stop him now.

So Xander did what he had learned best growing up in a family of power and manipulation—he performed.

Each day since their rooftop dinner, he turned the charm up, brick by brick building what he hoped would become unshakable trust. A new bouquet arrived at her doorstep every morning orchids, lilies, sunflowers. Not just roses; roses were too easy, too expected.

Each flower came with a handwritten note in his elegant scrawl.

"To the woman whose smile haunts me in the best way."

"Today’s bloom is nothing compared to the light you bring into my life."

"If thoughts were flowers, June, you’d be a garden by now."

He didn’t stop there.

He sent boxes of gourmet chocolates from the small chocolatier June had once mentioned in passing. He arranged surprise deliveries of books by her favorite authors. He checked in during her meetings with small, thoughtful texts like “Don’t forget to breathe today, I know you’ve got a tough one.”

Every detail mattered. Every gesture was part of the script. But somewhere in the act, the lines blurred.

And it all led up to this one night.

It was just past 11 p.m., and June’s laugh trickled through Xander’s Bluetooth speaker as they talked on the phone. She had been in bed already, makeup off, wrapped in an oversized hoodie, sipping tea. But his call, as always, made her heart flutter.

“I still can’t believe you actually remembered that I hate the smell of cinnamon,” she said. “You canceled a whole brunch reservation over it.”

Xander chuckled, feigning casualness. “Well, a man’s got to pay attention to the details if he wants to win the heart of someone like you.”

June rolled her eyes, though she was smiling. “I’m not that hard to impress.”

“Oh really?” Xander teased, his voice soft, coaxing. “Because I’ve been trying hard, June. Really hard. And you’re not making this easy.”

June laughed again. “You make it sound like a battle.”

“It feels like one sometimes,” he replied, more sincere than he intended. Then, his voice dropped into a serious tone, one he’d been waiting to use. “June… You still haven’t given me an answer.”

Silence.

She stopped swirling her tea. “Answer to what?”

He leaned back into his chair, gazing out the window at the city lights. “You know what I mean. I asked you to be my girlfriend… and it’s been a while now. And I’m not trying to pressure you, I swear, but I need to know where I stand. I need to know what we are.”

June didn’t answer right away. Her fingers traced the rim of her mug, her heart pounding. The truth was, she had felt something shift. Xander had begun to melt walls that Larry built brick by painful brick. His patience, his persistence, the way he showed up all of it made her feel seen.

And yet, she was still afraid.

But as the silence grew heavier between them, June realized something. No amount of fear could change the truth blooming quietly in her chest.

She liked Xander.

Maybe too much.

And for once… maybe she deserved to stop running.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Xander sat upright. “What?”

“I said okay,” June repeated, a bit more firmly. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Xander went still. For a moment, the air seemed to freeze around him.

This was what he wanted.

This was the win.

And yet, his heart didn’t leap the way he thought it would. It ached instead because her voice had held a fragility he hadn’t prepared for. She was giving him her trust… and he knew deep down, it wasn’t something he had earned honestly.

But he swallowed it all.

“June,” he said, voice softer now, “thank you. You won’t regret this. I promise, I’ll treat you the way you should’ve been treated from the beginning.”

There was a smile in her voice now. “I know you will.”

They stayed on the phone for another hour, talking about nothing and everything, until June fell asleep mid-conversation. Xander didn’t hang up. He listened to her breathe for a few more moments before ending the call, his heart heavy.

He had gotten what he came for.

Now, all he had to do was follow through.

But at what cost?