Todos os capítulos de The Goodbye He Never Saw Coming : Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

WINTER “What’s the problem, mister?” I say, tilting my head at Mike. His eyes flare. “Mister? Am I the one you’re calling mister?” Nath pushes himself up from his seat, but I’m not letting Mike off that easy. “What am I supposed to call you?” I shrug. “It’s not like I know your name.” He opens his mouth, ready to fire back....then stops. I watch it click in his head, the reminder that he’s supposed to be a stranger to me, not my fiancé. The way he freezes is almost funny. I fold my arms, staring him down. “What? Forget your place?” The others notice the tension now. “Yeah, what happened?” one of them pipes up. “Why’d you interrupt them? Mike, what’s wrong with you?” Olivia glides over, all sugary concern. “What’s the problem, honey?” Mike clears his throat. “Well… their time was already up.” “I wasn’t aware there was a timer,” I say, raising a brow. “No one said anything about the lap dance being timed… or is there something I’m missing?” A few people exchange

NATH I step out of the bathroom, towel draped around my neck, and stop short. Winter is pacing back and forth like a soldier about to march into battle. “What is it?” I ask. “I’m doomed,” she blurts. My brows knit. “Why do you say that?” She waves the pamphlet at me as though it’s her death warrant. “Tomorrow’s competition is salsa dancing. Salsa, Nath! I can’t dance to save my life. I’m going to bury us in front of the entire crowd.” I glance at the page, then back at her. “You think I’m any better? I’m not exactly a good dancer either. But…” I scratch the back of my neck. “I know a thing or two. And since I already agreed to do this with you, I’ll put in my best. If you can’t manage, just hold onto me and follow my lead.” Her face softens with relief. She actually thanks me, like I just pulled her back from the edge of a cliff. I murmur a quiet “good night” and stretch out on the bed. She slips in beside me, lying on her side, staring. I can feel her eyes tracing me,

NATH The moment we step onto the stage, I feel that something is wrong. Winter’s eyes keep drifting. Not toward the crowd, not toward her feet—toward them. Mike and Olivia. Every time she looks, her smile fades a little more, and it makes me wonder. Is she remembering something? Is Mike still tugging at her from somewhere deep inside? Or is it simpler—that she’s hurting because they look so damned polished compared to us? Either way, I hate it. When she suddenly bolts, I freeze for half a beat. Part of me wants to stay, to watch the other couples and see what tricks they’ve got. But the image of her watery eyes won’t leave me. So I go after her. Back in the room, her portfolio lies open on the table. I should look away. I don’t. And God, it floors me. The designs are brilliant. Not just good....brilliant. Better than most of what Valcour has pushed out in years. Clean lines, bold vision. If I weren’t hiding who I am, I’d hire her on the spot. No contest. I reach the ba

OLIVIA I can feel the eyes on us, hear the buzz: Senior staff losing control. Violence at the retreat. Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. I plaster on a tight smile, but inside, I’m seething. My victory? Gone. The first-place win we earned? Gone too, thanks to the spokesperson's righteousness. And all because Mike decided to play caveman with his fists. I glance at him, and he’s still fuming, chest heaving like he’s just gone ten rounds in a boxing ring. And all I can think is: Congratulations, Olivia. You picked the hottest idiot in the room. Back in the hotel room, Mike is pacing like a caged animal. His jaw is tight, his fists are still balled, and I swear the carpet’s about to catch fire from how hard he’s stomping. And then...crash. He punches the lamp off the nightstand. The lampshade spins off like a frisbee. I fling my arms up. “What are you doing?!” He doesn’t answer. Just snarls, grabs the remote, and hurls it across the room. It bounces off the wall and land

WINTER I swear, Nath is the smartest man alive. Note to self: never play chess with this man. He’s terrifying. The way he flipped that punch Mike gave him into a weapon? Genius. I almost want to send him a thank-you card: Dear Nath, thank you for being so unbothered and so annoyingly brilliant. Yours sarcastically, Winter. When Mike dragged him aside earlier, I pretended to wander off…but hello? I’m Winter. I don’t wander off. I lurk. I eavesdrop. My ears might as well have a PhD in selective listening. They thought they were whispering, but I caught the good parts. Nath admitted—clear as day—that he’s not gay. Oh, the fury on Mike’s face? Priceless. He was practically foaming like a rabid dog. Meanwhile, Olivia stood a few steps away, sulking like someone just told her carbs were illegal. Trouble in their camp? Good. Music to my ears. By the time Nath and I head back to his hotel room, I’m staring at him like he’s the eighth wonder of the world. The man’s sharp, strategic, an