Lahat ng Kabanata ng Ruined by My Best Friend’s Father: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

I told myself I was only going for an hour.That was the lie I used whenever I needed to feel responsible while still saying yes. An hour meant I could show my face, toast someone's success, take a few pictures, then leave before the night turned into something I would regret.Nadia didn't let me pretend."You have been acting like a nun for two weeks," she said, tugging my sleeve as we stepped out of the car. "One night will not kill you.""I'm not acting like a nun," I said."You are," she insisted. "You say no to everything. You keep checking your phone. You look like you're waiting for a lecture."I shot her a look. "Stop reading my face."Nadia laughed. She was one of those university friends who collected people easily. She made plans the way other people breathed. If she decided you were coming with her, it was easier to accept your fate than fight.The new club was already glowing from the outside. Lights moved behind tinted glass. The bass hit the pavement like a heartbeat. A

Chloe's kitchen table had slowly disappeared under textbooks.Economics notes, highlighted pages, loose papers covered with formulas she insisted were easy if you "looked at them the right way."I leaned over one of the pages, tapping a line with my pen."You flipped the ratio again," I said.Chloe groaned and dropped her head onto the table. "I didn't flip it. The textbook flipped it.""That's not how math works.""It should be," she muttered.I smiled and pushed the paper back toward her."Try it again."She sat up with a dramatic sigh but started rewriting the numbers.Sunlight filtered through the tall kitchen windows, soft and warm, making the room feel calmer than it probably deserved. Outside, the late afternoon was quiet. A few cars passed occasionally, but most of the neighborhood had settled into the slow rhythm of the weekend.Chloe chewed the end of her pen."If I fail this exam," she said, "I'm blaming you.""You asked me to help.""Yes, but I didn't expect actual work."

"You keep saying that," I said.His jaw tightened slightly. "Because you should."I looked at him for a moment, searching his face for something softer than restraint, something easier than this constant push and pull between warning and want."But do you want me to?" I asked.The question settled between us like something dangerous.He didn't answer immediately."You know I should," he said finally."That wasn't what I asked."The words were out before I could stop them.His hand tightened once at my waist. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to register. The first visible crack in his control."Eva."The way he said my name this time felt like a plea.I should have stepped back then. I knew that. I knew exactly what kind of line we were standing on, how badly it could go, how impossible it would be to pretend after this that whatever existed between us was still made only of looks and unfinished conversations.But he hadn't let go.And I didn't want him to.So instead of stepping back,

By the time I got to the office, I had already told myself three different versions of the same lie.You're fine.It was one night.You can act normal.The problem was that none of those things felt entirely true.I sat at my desk, opened my laptop, and stared at the spreadsheet in front of me for almost a full minute before I realized I had not absorbed a single number. The office was already awake around me. Phones ringing. Low conversations near the glass meeting room. The soft clatter of keyboards and printers. Everything looked exactly the same as it had every other morning.I was the one who felt different.I picked up my coffee and took a slow sip, forcing myself to focus on something practical. My inbox. The report due by noon. The list of follow-ups Ms. Hargrove had sent before eight.Work.That was what mattered here.Not the fact that I had woken up in Damian Cole's bed that morning.Not the way he had looked at me before saying it didn't leave the room.Not the way my body

I didn't expect him to text again, not really that soon.The message came two days later while I was sitting at the small desk in my apartment, pretending to focus on the portfolio edits Andre had asked me to finish before Monday.My phone vibrated once against the wood.No name appeared on the screen, just the number. But i already knew who it was.My stomach tightened before I even opened it.Are you free tonight?That was all.No greeting, no explanation, not even an emojis.Just the question.I stared at the message longer than I should have.The simplicity of it felt deliberate, controlled and almost careful.I leaned back slightly in the chair, letting out a slow breath through my nose.It wasn't the first time someone had asked me a question like that.But somehow this one felt different.Because of who it came from.Because of what had already happened between us.And because a part of me already knew what my answer was going to be.Still, I didn't reply immediately.I set the