Eva's POV

I stare at my empty finger, my chest tightening until it hurts. The skin where my ring used to be feels colder than the rest of me.

My throat tightens. For the first time all night, I realize, I don't belong to Stephan anymore.

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. My throat burns, and all I can do is look away before the tears spill.

Micah's jaw flexes. "Come on. What movie did you want to see?"

I shrug and wipe under my eyes. "Anything."

He doesn't argue. Instead, he takes my bag and rests a hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward a chair.

"Sit here," he says quietly. "I'll be right back."

I nod, too drained to fight him. People are still staring, and it makes me feel even smaller. I take out my phone, hoping to distract myself, but when I check my accounts, every single one is frozen.

My stomach sinks. He actually did it.

A shaky breath leaves me. My eyes sting again, but before I can cry, Micah is back with two movie tickets and a huge bowl of popcorn.

"SpongeBob?" He raises a brow, teasing.

A small, broken smile tugs at my lips. "Really?"

"Hey, I know you love it," he says, handing me the popcorn.

We walk side by side toward the theater.

When we step inside, I stop short. "Wait, where is everyone?"

Micah sinks into a seat in the third row. "I figured you could use some privacy."

My eyes widen. "You didn't...buy the whole theater, did you?"

"The movie's starting," he says, patting the seat beside him. "Come on, I know you won't admit it, but SpongeBob cheers you up."

I sigh but sit anyway. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're smiling again," he murmurs.

The lights dim completely. The screen flashes yellow, and for a while, it's easy to forget everything. The sound of the movie fills the space between us. I even laugh once, really laugh until his fingers brush mine inside the popcorn bowl.

The laughter dies.

My gaze flicks to him, but he's already looking at me.

"What?" I ask, rubbing my cheek self-consciously. "Do I have something on my face?"

He grins a little. "Yeah. Right there."

He reaches for a napkin and gently brushes at my cheek, his large hand cupping my face. His fingers are warm and something inside me trembles. My breath catches.

It's been so long since anyone touched me with tenderness.

I don't pull away.

"What happened, Eva?" he asks quietly.

I blink, pulling back a little. "What?"

"With you and Stephan."

A hard lump forms in my throat. "We're...getting a divorce."

His brows rise. "He served you?"

I shake my head. "No. I did."

Micah tilts his head, surprise flashing across his features. "You finally left him."

"I know you both don't like each other," I murmur. "But he's not all bad. Life just... happened."

And I still love him. Even now, that bitter truth stings.

He scoffs quietly. "Love didn't run out, Eva. Respect did. That man never deserved you."

I look away. "You don't know everything."

"I know enough," he says. "He's freezing your accounts and letting you suffer while he plays the victim."

I exhale sharply. "Micah, please. I don't want to talk about him anymore."

"Then tell me this, where are you staying?"

I'll be fine." I force a small smile. "I'll find a hotel."

"Eva." His tone leaves no room for argument. "Tell me."

"Micah, please..."

"I'm not dropping it." His voice softens, but his eyes are firm.

Heat creeps up my neck. "A cheap hotel, okay? I have some cash left."

He sighs and glances down at my bare hand. His thumb brushes the pale mark where my ring used to be. "Your account is frozen, love. You don't even have enough for a meal."

I swallow hard. "Then I'll start applying for jobs tomorrow."

"Stay with me," he says suddenly.

I freeze. "What?"

"I have a huge house all to myself. You can stay there until you figure things out. I'll even give you a job at my company."

I shake my head. "No, Micah. If this hits the press-"

"You don't have to decide now," he interrupts softly. "Just let me take you home tonight. Let me help you."

"I shouldn't-"

"Shush." His fingers find my chin, tilting my face toward him. "Let me cook for you. Run you a bath. You can leave after if you want."

Micah's gaze is steady, kind, and dangerously gentle. It's the kind of look that makes a woman forget every reason she should run.

He's gorgeous. The sharp cut of his jaw, the warmth in his brown hair under the soft light.

"I don't know," I whisper, heart hammering.

He smiles faintly. "You're scared of being alone with me."

My lips part. "N-no."

His eyes flicker down to my mouth. "Then relax. I'm only going to make sure you're okay."

I want to believe him. I really do. But something in his voice makes my pulse skip.

"Okay," I breathe. "But I'm not staying the night."

"Of course." His smile deepens.

–

An hour later, the credits roll. Micah stands, grabs my bag, and offers his hand. I let him pull me up.

The night air is cool when we step outside. His driver opens the door.

"Evening, sir. Ma'am."

Micah nods, guiding me inside. The leather smells faintly of mint and cologne.

For a while, we're both silent. He's scrolling through his phone; I'm staring out the window, pretending not to hope for a text that will never come.

My phone is still empty. No messages. No missed calls.

Typical Stephan.

A warm hand suddenly rests on my thigh, and I flinch.

"Hey," Micah says softly. "You're shaking."

"I'm fine," I lie, but my voice betrays me.

He doesn't move his hand. His thumb brushes against my skin, slow and deliberate, and I can barely breathe.

His hands are big, veins running like rivers beneath his skin.

Without thinking, I trace one with my fingertip.

He inhales sharply. "Eva."

The sound of my name on his lips sends a shiver down my spine. I jerk my hand away. "Sorry."

What am I doing? My husband's betrayal still stings, yet here I am, craving the warmth of another man.

Silence stretches between us, thick and charged. When the car stops in front of his house, the driver offers a quiet goodnight and disappears inside.

Neither of us moves.

Micah's fingers brush against my knee, then trail slowly down to my ankle. My skin prickles, goosebumps rising.

"Your eyes," he murmurs, voice rough. "They're saying something."

I gulp. "I-I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do." His gaze darkens, burning through me. "Tell me, Eva. What do you want?"

My pulse pounds in my ears. The air between us feels too hot. 

I want to deny it, to pull away. But when he leans closer, his breath fanning my lips, all the broken pieces inside me melt into longing.

"Look at me," he says.

I do, and almost forget how to breathe. His eyes are molten, filled with something I haven't felt in years. Desire.

"I need..." My voice breaks.

"Need what?" he asks, his breath brushing against my mouth.

Tears sting my eyes as the words tumble out. "I need to forget," I whisper. "Just for a bit."

Micah's POV

As soon as the words leave her lips, I take her hand and pull her inside.

The door clicks shut behind us, and I press her gently against the wall, heart pounding in my chest.

"Are you sure?" I whisper, my breath brushing her lips as my hands slide up to her throat, holding her there. Not hard, just enough to feel her pulse race beneath my fingers.

Her brown eyes are wide, pupils blown, and her lips part as she nods. "Yes... please."

God. 

She's trembling, chest rising fast, and for a moment I forget how to breathe.

Stephan doesn't deserve her. He never did. The same way he doesn't deserve anything good in his life.

Some selfish part of me feels triumphant knowing she's no longer his. That she's standing here, looking at me like I'm the only one she sees.

And then I kiss her - finally.

Her mouth is soft and warm against mine, and she melts into me like she's been waiting for this too. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us.

My mind spins at the first taste of her. It's intoxicating, heady...and I'm ready to drop to my fucking knees for her.

Her moan vibrates against my tongue, and I lose it. My hands grip her waist, then slide down to her hips, to the curve of her ass. She fits perfectly in my palms.

Soft, pliant.

When I squeeze, she gasps, a sound that goes straight through me, settling in the deepest parts of me.

"You like that?" I murmur, my lips brushing the corner of her mouth.

She doesn't answer. She just tilts her head, kissing down my jaw, her teeth grazing my skin before she sucks hard enough to leave a mark.

"Take it off," she whispers, tugging on my shirt.

"My hands are busy," I rasp, giving her another squeeze.

She huffs, grabs my shirt by the lapels, and rips it open, buttons scatter across the floor. I laugh against her lips, but the sound dies quickly when she kisses me again.

Her body is shaking. Mine's not any better.

When I slide my hand up her thigh and press against her, she moans my name, soft and breathless.

"Micah..."

The sound of it almost undoes me.

I tug at her dress, slipping the buttons loose until the fabric falls open. She's bare beneath the thin layer of her bra, and when I take one hardened peak into my mouth, she arches, whimpering like she's about to break.

"God..." she breathes, clutching my hair.

I could stay like this, touching her, tasting her  forever. And I'd never get tired.

But then I whisper against her lips, voice rough and low, "I want your mouth."

She blinks, confused. "You have my mouth."

"No." I kiss her again, slower this time. "I want your mouth...on me."

The air changes. She freezes. Her body goes still in my arms.

And instantly, I know I've pushed too far.

I step back, hands raised. "You don't have to. I shouldn't have said that."

Her gaze drops, cheeks flushed. "I shouldn't have... done any of this," she says softly. "I'm sorry."

I shake my head. "Don't be. I should've kept my promise."

She exhales shakily and straightens her dress, trying not to look at me. "I should go."

"Please," I say, reaching out before she can turn away. "Let me at least cook for you. You need to eat."

"It's fine, really-"

"I promised you a bath and food," I cut in gently. "That's all. No more lines crossed."

Her lips part, her eyes searching mine for a long moment. Then she finally nods.

"Okay," she whispers.

Relief floods me. I smile a little and squeeze her hand. "Thank you."

I lead her upstairs and run the bath, filling it with warm water and too many bath bombs until the scent fills the air. The bubbles nearly spill over the edge.

"There," I say quietly. "Towels and essentials are in the basket. I'll get some clothes for you. Once you're done, we'll eat. Then, we can talk, if you want to."

Her eyes lift to mine, soft and uncertain. "Alright."

I leave her there and step into my own shower, letting the water hit my back while my thoughts spiral.

Finally, she's here. Not as Stephan's wife,  but as herself. As the woman I've wanted for years.

And I swear, I'm not letting her slip away this time around..

---

When she comes downstairs, she's wearing my sweatpants and hoodie. A towel's still wrapped around her hair, and there's a shy smile playing on her lips.

She looks small and warm and so damn beautiful.

"Hi," I breathe out.

"Hi," she replies, glancing at the table.

Her eyes widen at the sight.  Lobster, potatoes, bread, and sauce. "This looks amazing, Micah."

"Thank you." I gesture toward the chair.

She sits, and I serve her, watching her eyes soften with every bite.

The way she eats, slow, savoring, with tiny sighs of pleasure, makes something inside of me ache. I've seen her starve herself for that bastard she calls  a husband, seen her break her back trying to please him.

But here, now, she looks... content.

And I can't help the burst of pride that settles in my chest for being the reason.

There's a bit of sauce at the corner of her lips, and before I can stop myself, I lean forward and wipe it away with a napkin.

She blushes. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I murmur, unable to look away from her.

Something shifts between us again, quiet, fragile, but real. 

And before I can think twice, the words slip out.

"Marry me, Eva."

She freezes, spoon halfway to her mouth. "Wh..what?"

I swallow hard and meet her gaze. "Marry me," I repeat, voice low but certain. "Let me take care of you."

Eva's POV

My spoon clatters to the floor, and I freeze.

"Marry you?" I blink at him, sure I misheard. "Where is this coming from? What do you even mean?"

Micah leans back in his chair, his eyes holding that steady, unreadable stare that always makes my pulse race, except this time, it only leaves me uneasy.

He shrugs, lips twitching. "I mean exactly that. I want you to marry me."

A breathy laugh escapes me. "Micah, I just got divorced."

"I know," he says quietly.

"You're joking, right?"

He doesn't reply, only raises a brow.

My lips part. "You're serious."

"I am." He nods.

I frown, looking down at the half-eaten plates between us, as if they can make sense of any of this.

"I can't marry you." I stand, gathering the plates just to keep my hands busy.

He rises too, following me into the kitchen. "Are you still in love with Stefan?"

The question hits like ice water. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Because if you hear me out, you might actually like the idea," he says. "Let's sit."

My heart thuds painfully as we settle on the couch, side by side. His nearness is grounding and dangerous all at once.

"What really happened this time?" he asks. "What broke the camel's back?"

"You were there," I mutter. "You saw it."

He arches a brow. "Kissing that woman at the event? Come on, Eva. He's done worse. That can't be it."

My throat tightens. I hesitate, memories pressing down like a weight I'd buried too deep.

"I loved him," I say finally, voice cracking. "I still do. We were together for ten years. Since college. I thought he was everything I ever wanted..."

Micah hands me a tissue without a word, just listening.

"It's the first time I've really said it out loud," I go on. "But after we lost the baby-"

His eyes soften. "The accident?"

I nod weakly. "He changed. We both did. And then came the cheating... each time more public than the last."

Micah's jaw flexes, knuckles whitening against his knees.

I sniffle, eyes burning. "But it wasn't the cheating that finally broke me." My voice shakes. "Last week, I got sick. Really sick. He was called but-"

The words fall apart, and the tears come hot and fast. Micah pulls me into his arms.

That memory shoves through the barrier I erected, and I find myself in that hospital corridor again, staring at Stephan as he fussed over his mistress.

"He didn't come?" Micah murmurs after a moment, his voice dragging me out of that place.

"I wish." My laugh is bitter, hollow. "He came. Just not for me." I swallow hard. "He was there, at the same hospital... taking care of Regina."

Micah stills, eyes flashing briefly. His breathing turns shallow, angry. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

I pull away, wiping my face. "It doesn't matter now."

"He's a fool for letting you go like that."

I don't reply. What could I possibly say?

He studies me, voice low. "Do you still want him back?"

I look up, startled. "What?"

"You still love him. Be honest, Eva. If you could make him regret everything, make him chase you, would you?"

Something dark and heavy flickers in my chest.  The reminder of all the humiliation, the mocking stares at events, the back-handed comments.

A bitter satisfaction I don't want to name floods my body.

"I want him to regret it," I admit. "To see what he threw away."

Micah's mouth curves faintly, and his eyes light up. "Then marry me."

I blink. "And what do you get out of this?"

"Nothing," he says, shrugging. "You know I care about you."

"Stefan will lose his mind."

"Good," he says simply.

I look down at my hands. "Is it crazy that I still miss him?"

"Not crazy," Micah replies. "Just human. You were together for ten years."

He stands and brushes a hand along my hairline, a soft touch that lingers too long. I shudder. "We'll go to the courthouse tomorrow."

My eyes widen, stomach twisting into knots. "Tomorrow?"

He smiles, that easy grin that always disarms me. "It's time you stopped being the one left behind."

---

"You look beautiful, wife," Micah teases the next morning, eyes skimming the pale blue dress that barely touches my knees.

It's what I could grab out of my suitcase on such short notice. 

Besides, what does one wear to a pretend marriage after getting a real divorce?

I roll my eyes, but my smile slips as soon as we enter the courthouse.

"We're really doing this?" I whisper, heart hammering as nervous butterflies fill my tummy.

He squeezes my hand. "Too late to back out now, Eva."

A clerk steps forward. "Mr. Grayson?"

They exchange a quick handshake before we sit. Micah hands over the papers, some I'd barely glanced at last night.

My leg bounces uncontrollably. I can't believe this is happening.

Micah's hand settles over mine, large and steady, anchoring me. I breathe through my nose.

"Alright," the clerk says, standing. "Shall we begin?"

We rise together and walk to the small arch at the front.

"We don't have rings," I whisper, suddenly remembering.

Micah just smiles, and taps his pocket. "I came prepared."

The clerk begins reading the vows, his voice echoing softly in the empty room. My mind spins, heart racing for all the wrong reasons.

"Do you, Micah Grayson, take Eva Valentine as your lawfully wedded wife?"

Micah's gaze never wavers. "I do."

He slides a dainty gold band on my finger. My mind spins.

In less than twenty-four hours, I've been divorced and now...married.

"And do you, Eva Valentine, take Micah Grayson as your lawfully wedded husband?"

My lips tremble, and I swallow thickly. "I do."

"I now pronounce you-"

The door slams open with a bang. We all look towards it.

I freeze, spine stiffening.

Marching down the aisle, eyes blazing, is Stefan.