Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 1 - Chapitre 9

I didn’t realize how much I owned until I was halfway up the stairs, questioning every life decision that led me here. One box in my arms. Another slipping against my hip. A suitcase dragging behind me like it had a personal vendetta. “For someone starting over,” I muttered, adjusting my grip, “this is starting to feel like a punishment.” But I kept going. Because this wasn’t just a move. It was a reset. A necessary one. The kind you don’t plan for, the kind that gets decided for you, in a single moment, by a single person who had no business having that much power over your life in the first place. I pushed that thought down quickly. New place. New environment. No history trailing behind me like smoke. No familiar voices attached to things I was trying to forget. Just me. Finally. By the time I got inside, my arms were already sore. I set the box down with a quiet thud and took a slow look around. It wasn’t bad. Actually, it was really nice. Neat. Cozy. Wa

I was so relieved when the day was finally over. It didn’t even feel like a first day, it felt like three compressed into one. And I didn’t want to think about what tomorrow was going to be like. One day at a time. That was enough. I called Olivia almost immediately, dropping onto my couch and kicking my heels off in the same motion. She answered on the second ring. “Girl, you sound exhausted,” she said. “We’re going out tonight.” I laughed before I could stop myself. Of course she’d say that. But the thing was the idea landed differently than I expected. Somewhere beneath the tiredness was something else. Something that had been sitting quietly under the surface all day, restless and coiled, looking for somewhere to go. “Say less,” I replied. I showered quickly, then stood in front of my mirror wrapped in a towel, scanning my options. It didn’t take long. The red dress. Short. Feathery at the hem. The kind of dress that didn’t ask if it was too much, it al

I woke up feeling it immediately. The dull throb behind my eyes. The heaviness in my limbs. The particular kind of morning that arrives after one too many drinks and not enough sleep. Tuesday. Work day. I stared at the ceiling and did a silent inventory of my life choices.The drinks were a bad idea, I knew that the moment I woke up with a throb behind my eyes. Staying out that late was worse. But the part that was really sitting with me, the part I couldn’t shake loose no matter how hard I stared at that ceiling Was him.Nate. His hand on my waist. His girlfriend twenty feet away.Like it had happened to someone else and I’d just been watching.Except I hadn’t been watching.I’d been standing there not moving away.I closed my eyes again.Yeah.That was the part I was going to need a minute with. I got up, showered, and stood in front of my mirror wrapped in a towel, trying to give myself a serious talking to. The reflection was not cooperating. Because I looked fine. Normal.

The office was already buzzing by the time I arrived. I slid into my seat, pulled up my screen, and committed fully to the performance of someone who had slept well and was absolutely not running on dry shampoo and willpower. The hangover had faded to a background hum by midmorning. I got through two briefs, a team meeting, and approximately forty emails. Normal. Focused. Professional. The fact that I’d spent the entire commute replaying an elevator ride that hadn’t even happened yet was completely beside the point. “Isabel.” Maya. That expression. “Ethan wants you.” I closed my laptop, smoothed my blazer, and knocked once on his office door. “Come in. Close the door.” He was at the window when I entered. Hands in his pockets, city stretching out behind him. He turned slowly. Unhurried. Like he’d been expecting me longer than the thirty seconds since he’d summoned me. “Sit.” I sat. He moved to his desk slowly, straightening a folder that didn’t need straighteni

Neither of us moved.His hand was still at my jaw, his forehead nearly touching mine, his breath warm against my lips.And the silence between us felt louder than anything I had ever heard.“Tell me to leave,” he whispered.I should have.God, I should have.This was the last clean moment.The last second before consequences.Before Olivia, before Camilla, before everything became real.All I had to do was say the word.Leave.Instead, I looked at him.At the restraint in his eyes.At the conflict.At the wanting.At the fact that he was standing here fighting himself and still losing.And I realized I was tired.Tired of pretending.Tired of acting like this wasn’t happening.Tired of choosing the right thing when the wrong thing was standing this close, looking at me like I was the reason he hadn’t slept in days.So I whispered“Then stop asking.”Something in him broke.And then he kissed me.Not rushed.Not desperate.Deliberate.Like he had thought about this too many times. Like