SLEEPING WITH MY EX'S STEPDAD

Elena's POV

Beads of sweat dropped down my legs.

I reached out for the door for the third time, then stopped halfway again.

The velvet box felt much heavier in my palm than when I first picked it out of the tenth store. Inside it lay the diamond bracelet I had spent three quiet evenings choosing for Kevin.

My happiness, the man that effortlessly puts a smile on my face each time I see him.

The man who had held my hand through every tough time I've been in and whispered to me in ways I could never forget.

The door to the bridal suite was partly open, soft light spilled into the corridor from the beautiful room we picked.

I pushed it the rest of the way with shaky hands, but froze as it did, taking everything in me to hold onto the box.

Kevin’s white dress shirt hung open over his chest while a particular bare shoulder caught the glow from the bedside lamp.

I knew that shape from anywhere, how can I mistake my best friend for anyone?

The maid-of-honour gown I had helped Claire choose lay in a messy heap on the floor, one thin strap still tangled around a discarded heel.

And around Claire’s throat sat the necklace, the exact necklace I had picked out for her, the delicate gold chain with the tiny sapphire meant to match the blue in my own bouquet.

Kevin’s voice reached as neither of them noticed I was there, he whispered to her in the same low tone he had used on me a hundred times.

“It’s going to be fine,” he murmured against her hair. “She doesn’t have to know everything. We’ll handle it.”

The words froze the last beat in my chest towards him.

I raised my phone slowly, careful not to make a sound, and switched to video, recording everything.

I caught the wrecked bridal bed, Kevin’s open shirt, Claire’s bare shoulders, the necklace against her skin, the gown on the floor, and even the—

“Elena?” Kevin's head snapped up.

I didn't stop filming though.

He pushed himself off the bed and crossed the room in three steps, closing his hand around my wrist hard.

“Argh,” I yelped as his grip tightened around my wrist, my skin burning under it for an entirely different reason.

“Put it down,” he said in a hurried tone. “You’re not going to do anything stupid, not tonight. Not with both families downstairs and the press already circling the hotel.”

Claire slid off the bed and pulled a sheet around her body casually, barely looking bothered.

“Elena, listen to me, this isn’t what it looks like,” she started. “You know how stressed he’s been with the wedding and all, even your father breathing down everyone’s neck. It just kinda happened.”

I didn't respond to that, only stared at the necklace resting against her collarbone.

“You’re wearing my necklace,” I said flatly.

Her fingers rose to the chain, and for half a second, her features dropped. But it straightened almost immediately.

“Someone has to be practical here,” she said quietly. “You’re not exactly easy to manage right now. The board is already nervous, and your father wants someone who won’t rock the boat.”

I still didn't say a word.

“If you walk out of here making a scene, you lose the hotel project,” she said slowly. “You lose the team. You lose everything you’ve worked for.”

Kevin’s grip tightened harder around my wrist. “We’re getting married tomorrow, you'll smile for the cameras, you'll say the vows, and we'll handle this privately. Like adults. Like people who understand our reputation.”

I looked down at his hand locked around my wrist, a red mark already blooming under his fingers.

Then looked at the half empty glass of champagne sitting on the side table beside the bottle and walked towards it, Kevin’s hold forcing him to move with me till he let go.

I tossed the box away and slid the engagement ring off my finger, dropping it into the glass of wine before picking up the bottle.

Kevin’s face darkened. “Elena, think for a moment,” he half yelled. “Walking out costs you the job, the project. Your father’s trust.”

I admired my empty finger for a while.

"Claire's right. People will side with whoever looks more stable," he added. His mouth tightened. "You'll cool down. By morning, you'll put that ring back on and walk down the aisle. You always come back, Elena."

I looked at my bare finger, then at him.

"Then you'd better pray you're still the man waiting at the end of it."

He reached for my face, trying out the same gentle, familiar gesture he had used for years when he wanted me to calm down.

His palm cupped my cheek, and just as my body tried leaning into it, Claire’s perfume from his skin hit me.

I flinched so hard his fingers dropped, whatever softness had once lived in my body for him died in that single second.

I stepped back, turned, and walked out of the suite.

The corridor outside felt too bright and way too quiet. My hands started shaking the moment I banged the door behind me.

I walked straight to the elevator without looking back, catching my reflection in the mirrored walls and hating myself all over again.

I couldn’t make it, so I went round the nearest corner, only then did I allow the tears fall.

One clean line went down each cheek, nothing more.

My hands trembled against the rail, but I didn't wipe the tears away, I watched them fall in the mirror beside me and felt a clear thought settle beneath the pain.

My thumb moved across my phone screen before I fully decided what I was doing.

Elena: I need to see you. Now.

In every family meeting over the past year, Dante Valenti had been the only person in the room who actually listened when I spoke.

He never interrupted my presentations on historic-hotel renovation or spatial circulation, not even on security-system integration. He never glanced past me to Kevin for confirmation or correction.

Those single acts had rested under my skin as my own little secret, the dangerous thoughts I had buried for months circled back.

The need to burn the version of myself who had waited for Kevin’s decisions took over everything.

I pushed myself up, cleaned whatever tear had formed, and completed the walk over to the elevator.

Behind me, Kevin’s voice carried down the long corridor, stopping me. “Elena. Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

I pressed the button to hold the doors open just long enough to look back at him. My wrist still throbbed where he had grabbed me, and with it came Claire’s perfume clouding my nostrils.

I met his eyes and didn't look away this time.

"I'm going to meet a man who has never made a choice for me," I said, straightening my shoulders. "A man you wouldn't dare order around."

The elevator doors started to close. My phone buzzed once in my hand.

Dante: Come up. Alone.