LOGINPapers, Promises, and the Point of No ReturnAVA hadn’t expected it, none of it. Not the way Eamon stepped closer to Elena, not the way his body angled instinctively toward her, protective and familiar, and certainly not the way his left arm slid around Elena’s waist as though it belonged there. As though it had always belonged there.Her heart twirled violently in her chest.She felt it, felt the sudden loss of balance, the sharp, dizzying realization crashing into her all at once. The clerk. The *old cargo*. Elena. Standing there, tucked neatly into Eamon’s side, calm, confident, adored.Eamon leaned closer to Elena, lowering his voice just enough to make it private but not enough to hide the intimacy of it. His thumb brushed lightly against her waist as he spoke, his posture relaxed, unguarded. Lovers’ body language— easy, unconscious, practiced.Ava’s lips wobbled.Her mouth opened, then closed. Opened again. No words came. It was as though the floor beneath her feet had cracked o
When Masks Fall in the HallwayELENA stepped out of the elevator and into the quiet hallway that led straight to Eamon’s office. The silence felt heavier than usual, broken only by the soft click of her heels against the polished floor. This time, she wasn’t holding any documents or files, wasn’t mentally rehearsing figures or reports or how to present herself. She wasn’t even there for anything work-related. Her thoughts were elsewhere, tangled and restless, her heart beating a little faster with each step she took.She slowed as she neared the office door, the familiar oak wooden frame suddenly intimidating. Elena raised her hand, fingers hovering just inches from the doorknob. She hesitated, drawing in a small breath— then froze.The knob turned from the inside.Before she could react, the door clicked open.The last person she had expected stepped out.Ava.Elena blinked, momentarily stunned, her lips parting slightly as the realization sank in. Ava stood there with the confidence
When the Past Finally BreaksELENA looked at him as though he had spoken in another language.“Divorce?” she asked, her eyes widening.“Yes, babe,” Eamon replied calmly, but firmly. “A divorce… and a legal claim on Evan. That would put a final hold on all of this.” He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “Something official. Something binding. Like a restraint.”She stared at him, silent.The word echoed in her head, divorce. She had carried it like a forbidden thought for years, burying it under fear, hope, guilt, and exhaustion. She had never allowed herself to examine it closely. But now, sitting beside Eamon, with the night’s chaos still fresh, it suddenly made sense in a way it never had before.She inhaled slowly.“You know…” she began, then paused. “You are right.”Eamon turned to her fully.“Of course I am,” he said gently. “Dropping his last name— that thing that still ties you both together— is what you need to finally stop him from showing up whenever h
Held Together by SilenceTHE air shifted the moment Eamon came out the door and stepped fully onto the porch.It was subtle, but unmistakable, like a storm changing direction.Marcus froze for half a second, then his jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists at his sides, nails biting into his palms as anger surged hot and ugly through him. ‘Why must he appear everywhere? Every time?’ The thought burned.“Oh,” Marcus scoffed bitterly, breaking the tense silence. “So this is your new man now, huh?”Elena stiffened beside the door, but Eamon didn’t move an inch. He stood tall, shoulders squared, his presence calm yet unyielding.“Watch your tone,” Eamon said coolly. “You are trespassing.”Marcus laughed, sharp and humorless. “Trespassing? On what— your charity project?” His eyes slid to Elena with venom. “Is this what you do now, Elena? Replace me so fast you don’t even pretend to grieve?”Elena’s voice shook, but she spoke. “You don’t get to stand here and talk like that. You came
Cracks Beneath the SmileTHE living room was tastefully furnished. It wasn't a mansion, but a house that spoke of money spent carefully and confidently. Cream-colored couches, abstract art on the walls, a glass center table polished to perfection. It was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner and Tiara’s laughter.She sat curled comfortably on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling endlessly. Her laughter rang out again and again, light and animated, as though she were determined to fill the space with sound.Marcus sat beside her.A glass of wine rested loosely in his hand, the deep red liquid untouched for long stretches of time. He had taken only a few absent-minded sips since Tiara served it, his eyes distant and unfocused. His body was present, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.Tiara burst into another fit of laughter. “Hey baby, look at this— oh my! This guy is so funny,” she said, shoving the phone playfully into Marcus’s face.He glanced at the screen for half a
His Dangerous Little Temptation.THE kiss continued.Neither of them tried to stop it. Neither thought to pull away. It deepened naturally, slowly at first, then with a quiet hunger that surprised them both. Eamon’s hand settled at Elena’s waist as though it had always belonged there, his thumb pressing gently, grounding her. Elena leaned into him without thinking, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, her heart pounding so loudly she was certain he could hear it.Time blurred.When Elena finally broke away, it wasn’t abrupt, it was careful, reluctant. Reality seeped back in like cool air after heat. She inhaled softly, her lips curved into a smile so wide it startled her. She stared at Eamon, breathless.He was already staring at her.Not with hunger alone. Not with triumph. But with something achingly tender, something reverent. No man had ever looked at her like that, like she was fragile and powerful all at once. Not even Marcus, her husband.Her cheeks warmed instantl







