Chapter 24

I’m still shaken by Ethan’s actions from a few days ago. What the hell got into him? Was he trying to sabotage his relationship with Isabella? Or was he deliberately trying to drag me into their mess?

She already believes I’m after her man—that I’d do anything to steal him away. What she doesn’t understand is that I just want peace. I don’t want Ethan. Been there, done that, and learned my lesson the hard way.

"Are you sure about that?" A nagging voice whispers in my mind. "You can’t deny you liked that kiss. It was exactly how you always imagined it—full of hunger and passion."

I shake my head, forcing the thought away. It was wrong. I’m determined to move on from Ethan and build a life—and love—of my own. My body’s betrayal meant nothing. Just biology. No emotions attached.

"Keep lying to yourself," the voice taunts.

I’m not lying. Or maybe I am. Either way, I refuse to overanalyze Ethan’s sudden, uncharacteristic behavior—or that unexpected kiss.

Pushing all thoughts of him aside, I focus on the coffee shop door. It’s five o’clock, and I’ve just finished work. Amelia and I planned to meet before heading home.

I take a bite of my cake just as the door swings open. Amelia walks in, scanning the crowd before spotting me. She rushes over, grinning.

"Sorry I’m late," she says, sliding into the seat across from me. "Last-minute meeting at the office."

I smile. "No worries."

"Already ordered, I see." She nods at my plate.

"Missed lunch. Starving."

She chuckles, flagging down a waiter to place her order. Once done, she leans in, eyes bright with curiosity.

"So? How was your date with Daniel?"

Honestly, Amelia has become more than just a friend in the short time we’ve known each other. She’s the kind of best friend I never had in high school—back when I was too obsessed with getting Ethan to notice me.

"It was… nice," I admit, a little shy.

Her face lights up. "Details. Now."

I laugh. "Not much to tell. Fancy dinner, then ice cream—which was my favorite part."

"Did he kiss you?" She practically vibrates with excitement.

I roll my eyes. Of course, that’s all she cares about.

"No. I could tell he wanted to, but he didn’t. Not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed."

"Why?"

"Part of me wanted to know what it feels like to be kissed by someone who actually wants me. The other part… I’m not sure I’m ready yet."

She studies me, silent for a moment. Then—

"Wait. Ethan never kissed you like that?" Her frown deepens.

"He did. But never like he meant it." My voice drops. "I saw him kiss Isabella once. It was… intense. Like he couldn’t get enough of her. He’s never looked at me that way."

I can’t meet her eyes. This is the first time I’ve admitted it out loud. I’ve kept the shattered pieces of my marriage locked away, too ashamed to let anyone see how much he broke me.

"But he kissed you like that last Friday," the voice reminds me.

A fluke. It meant nothing. It doesn’t erase years of rejection—of him avoiding my lips like they were poison. Even during sex, he’d kiss everywhere but my mouth.

"You deserve to be kissed like the world’s ending," Amelia says softly, squeezing my hand.

I exhale, grateful she’s not looking at me with pity.

"Aside from that, the date was perfect," I say, changing the subject. "Though I did see Ethan and Isabella. Looked like they were on a date."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah." I sip my drink, trying to forget how perfect they looked together.

Isabella was right. She and Ethan make sense. Everyone saw it then. Now, finally, so do I.

"Well, I hope he saw how stunning you looked," Amelia huffs. "Hope it sinks in that he let go of someone incredible."

I laugh. Amelia’s great for my ego. For once, someone isn’t obsessing over Isabella’s beauty or comparing us.

"So, nothing else exciting happened?" she presses.

"Nope." I shake my head.

I almost tell her about Ethan showing up at my place but stop myself. I trust her, but some things are better left unsaid. The last thing I need is Isabella finding out he came to me—and kissed me—after their date.

We fall into easy conversation, but I notice something’s bothering her.

"Okay, what’s wrong?" I push my plate aside.

"Nothing." She avoids my gaze.

"Spill it, Amelia."

I see the internal struggle in her eyes. Whatever it is, I won’t like it.

"It’s about Nathan," she finally says. "He’s really sorry."

I stiffen. Should’ve kept my mouth shut.

"We’re not doing this," I say through gritted teeth.

She sighs. "Sophia, please. It’s killing him that you won’t talk to him. That you were hurting, and he couldn’t be there. He’s hurting."

"He’s hurting?" My voice cracks. "Do you know how many years I’ve been hurting? The cruel things he’s said? He wants forgiveness, but he never forgave me for ‘hurting’ his precious sister. He told me I was dead to him. That he only had one sister. Do you have any idea how much that destroyed me?"

I’m trying to move on, but they keep dragging me back. Once again, his pain matters more than mine.

I stand, grabbing my bag. "If he can undo the damage he caused, maybe I’ll forgive him. Until then, we have nothing to say."

Tears glisten in her eyes, but I turn away. She calls my name, but I don’t look back.

I hail a cab, ignoring her as it pulls away.

No more tears. No more weakness. That chapter of my life is over.

At home, I pay the driver and head inside, relieved to be in my safe space.

As I unlock my door, a chill runs down my spine.

I’m being watched.

I glance around. Nothing unusual—just neighbors walking dogs, cars passing, joggers on their evening routes.

But the feeling lingers. A cold, menacing stare burning into my back.