Kate took the stairs two at a time, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't know why... but something wasn't right. Eileen's call had been short. Too short. And her voice had sounded off. When Kate stepped into the apartment, she found her sitting on the couch with Oliver in her arms. Her son's face was buried in Eileen's chest, and her friend was stroking his hair with slow, painful tenderness. Kate's entire body tensed. She closed the door hard behind her and rushed toward them. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" she asked softly, kneeling in front of the couch. Oliver lifted his head. His eyes were red, glassy. Tear tracks stained his cheeks. Without a word, he let go of Eileen and ran into his mother's arms, burying his face against her chest. "Baby, please. Tell me what's wrong. You're scaring me," Kate whispered, holding him tightly. Eileen stood, met Kate's eyes with a complicated expression… and turned toward the kitchen. "I'll finish dinner," she said without lo

"E-Ethan…" Kate looked at him like he was a memory come to life. One she never expected to see again. One that hurt… and somehow, healed. He smiled, still holding out the rose. "Hi, Kate." She didn't know what to do. Or what to say. She just stood there, breathing unevenly, the words stuck somewhere between her heart and her throat. Ethan slowly lowered the rose and placed it gently in her hands. "I didn't think you'd come," he said honestly, his eyes locking onto hers like they could still see all the way through her. "But I had to. Just in case you did." She looked down at the stem trembling between her fingers, while around them, everyone had gone quiet. Some smiled. Others tried not to laugh. "This was your idea?" she asked, glancing at Eileen. Her friend raised her brows with a guilty smile. "Don't look at me like that. I just thought… you deserved a nice night." "A nice night," Kate repeated, somewhere between disbelief and nerves. "You look beautiful," Et

Kate leaned over the sink, her breath coming in short bursts. The face staring back at her in the mirror was one she didn't want to see—flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, eyeliner smudged just enough to hint at vulnerability. She ran a hand across her forehead and grimaced. "Asshole," she hissed, not even thinking. "Parading his lover around like some damn trophy…" She let out a bitter laugh. No humor. Just heat and hurt. Then came the self-scolding. "No, no, no… that's not your problem. You don't care. You don't care, Kate." She lifted a finger like she was about to lecture herself. "Of course not… because you're strong. Independent. A lawyer. With an ex who has no clue what happened… and a husband who doesn't even belong to you…" she whispered, swaying slightly on her feet. Gripping the edge of the sink, she reached for the thin chain tucked beneath her dress. Her fingers found it instantly—the ring. Cold, small, and shining like a damn ghost. She held it between her fingers, s

The first throb came at her temple. Then, directly in the center of her skull, like someone was drilling into her brain with a rusty bit. Kate let out a groan. "Oh God… who put a blender in my head?" she grumbled, bringing a hand to her forehead. "And why do I feel like they left it running all night?" She cracked one eye open. Blink. And her gaze slowly swept across the room. No… no way. "Am I… at home?" she murmured, struggling to sit up. She looked down, and her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when she saw she was in her underwear. "Wait… why am I in my underwear? And who changed me?" She started piecing the puzzle together like a ticking time bomb. "The last thing I remember was… the bathroom… Grayson… and he was so close… he almost kissed me…" Her breath caught, and she froze for a second. Then she buried both hands in her face. "No…" she whispered, horror rising. "No, no, no. Tell me we didn't have sex. Tell me we didn't—" Right then, she paused

Kate's silence only made things worse. Grayson took a step forward. "Answer me! Are you still in love with him?!" She lifted her chin, arms crossed tight against her chest. "I don't owe you anything, Grayson. Even if I still carry your last name… you mean nothing to me." The words hit like a slap. He blinked, slow and hard, like he was trying not to break apart. Or maybe trying not to break something else. Kate saw it. And for a second, she relished it. "However," she added, steady, eyes locked on his, "I'll clear the air for you. Yes. Ethan is my ex-boyfriend." A muscle ticked in Grayson's jaw, a thin fuse of dynamite sparking under the skin. "We ran into each other at an alumni reunion. That's all. A coincidence." The tension between them crackled, thick and charged, a storm waiting to hit. "A coincidence," he repeated, laughing bitterly. There was no humor in his voice, only venom. "So that's why his hand was on your waist? Out of courtesy?" Kate narrowed her e