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Ethan squeezed his eyes shut, tears of pure agony burning his lashes. He covered his ears with his hands, desperate to block out the wet, slapping sounds and the filthy praises this Jason murmured into her skin. It was useless. Every sound was a jagged blade carving into his soul. He had crossed an ocean to win back his future, only to be forced to listen as another man claimed the woman he loved. The devastating reality crushed him, leaving him shattered and weeping in the corridor, utterly destroyed by the consequences of his own betrayal. He felt sick to his stomach, gasping for oxygen as if he were drowning on dry land. The image of Lily wrapping her legs around another man, giving herself over entirely, burned behind his closed eyelids.

The torturous sounds eventually reached a fever pitch, culminating in a shared, breathless climax that left the hallway ringing with the aftermath of their intimacy.

Ethan remained on the cold floor, his chest heaving with voiceless sobs. It took every ounce of his remaining strength to pull his hands away from his face and force his legs to support him. He dragged himself up, leaning on the wallpaper, his vision blurred with tears.

He stumbled down the corridor, pressing the elevator button with a trembling finger. The descent to the lobby felt like a free-fall into hell. He pushed through the glass doors and stepped out into the biting Chicago night. The frigid wind whipped his tear-stained face, chilling him to the bone, but the cold was nothing compared to the hollow ache in his chest.

He walked aimlessly down the pavement, the vibrant city lights blurring around him. He felt entirely lost, a man without a compass, drifting in the wreckage of a life he had purposefully detonated.

But as the freezing wind filled his lungs, a new, darker resolve began to take root amidst the despair. He remembered the swollen look of her lips, the furious fire in her eyes when she looked at him. She hated him, yes. She was sleeping with another man, yes. But she had felt something when she saw him. He had seen the crack in her armor.

Ethan stopped on the corner of the street, staring back up at the towering high-rise. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, his jaw setting with a dangerous, unwavering determination. He broke her trust, and he pushed her into the arms of a stranger. But he was not going to walk away. He was going to fight for her, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how many doors got slammed in his face. He would not give up until the ring in his pocket was back on her finger.

Chapter Three

Lily

Jason set a mug of black coffee on the marble island. The ceramic scraped the stone, a jarring sound in the tense morning. He kept his back turned, his focus locked on the eggs sizzling in the cast-iron pan. The muscles of his back were pulled tight, stripping away the tender vulnerability they usually shared. Last night, Lily used Jason’s hands, his mouth, his fierce presence to obliterate Ethan’s voice ringing from the hallway. She sought to be claimed by her present so thoroughly that the past would have no room to exist.

But morning brought the bitter truth. The past was pressing into her chest, restricting her breath.

Lily wrapped her fingers around the mug, welcoming the burn against her palms, desperate to bridge the physical and emotional chasm separating them.

"He isn't a threat, Jason," Lily said, her voice betraying a fragile edge.

Jason reached out and twisted the stove knob, killing the flame. He gripped the edge of the counter, his knuckles turning white as he drew a breath before finally pivoting to face her. His dark eyes, typically dancing with mischief, were carefully guarded, assessing her with a terrifying clarity.

"He called himself your fiancé, Lily," Jason said, his voice a measured rumble that lacked any of its usual ease. "A man doesn't fly across the Atlantic and show up at your apartment claiming a title like that unless he thinks you left a key under the mat."

"The door is bolted shut," she insisted, taking a step toward him, her chest aching at the profound distance in his eyes. "I left London to get away from him. I threw his ring on his desk after I caught him with the woman who was supposed to be my best friend. He is delusional. He thinks he can manipulate me into forgetting what he did. I am not going back to that wreckage, Jason. I swear to you."

Jason finally closed the gap, but instead of pulling her into his embrace, he placed a large hand over hers on the mug. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, a bittersweet gesture that made tears prick her eyes.

"I care about you, Lily. You know I do," Jason murmured, searching her face. "I look at you and I see a future. I see a life. But I also saw the way you looked when you opened that door. You looked like you saw a ghost, and last night... last night, you fucked me like you were trying to exorcise him."

Lily flinched. A flush of shame rushed up her neck as a tear spilled over her lashes. "Jason, please—"

"I am not mad," he interrupted, wiping the tear away with his thumb. "But I know my worth. I am not going to be a band-aid for your trauma, Lily. And I am certainly not going to compete in a toxic triangle with a phantom. If he is going to hover around Chicago, you need to handle it. You need to decide if you are actually here with me. Because I won't share you."

The ultimatum was not delivered with anger, which somehow made it hurt worse. It was delivered with profound self-respect.

"You won't have to," Lily promised fiercely, gripping his hand tight. "I am going to work. I will deal with this. He will be on a plane back to London by tonight."

Jason’s expression lost its defensive edge. The rigid lines of his posture melted into something profoundly tender. He reached out, pulling her into a tight, enveloping embrace. Lily buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist as if he were the only solid thing left in the world. He held her securely, pressing a lingering kiss to the crown of her head.

"I'll be right here for you," he whispered into her hair, his tone fiercely protective.

***

The sleek, glass-walled offices of Bennett & Mendoza Consulting usually served as a haven. It was the legacy she had forged with her own two hands out of the ashes of her old life. But today, as Lily practically sprinted down the corridor, her heart hammered a frantic, terrified rhythm against her ribs.

She dropped her designer tote bag onto her desk, her hands shaking so badly she could barely open her laptop.

Sarah walked in seconds later, holding two file folders and a tablet, looking every inch the flawless, untouchable architect she was. But the moment Sarah looked up, her professional mask vanished.

"You look like you're about to pass out," Sarah observed, dropping the folders and closing the office door. She walked over, placing a steadying hand on Lily's shoulder. "What happened?"

"Ethan is in Chicago," Lily confessed, the words tasting like poison on her tongue.