I drop onto a barstool. All I can think about is Josie kissing me slow, confident, hungry. She tasted like heat and honey and all the things I didn’t know I needed until she gave them to me. I can still feel her in my hands.
Now all I feel is regret.
And Savannah?
She’s still everywhere. She doesn’t even care about being banned from The Marrow.
She showed up at myhousethis morning.
“Just checking in, babe,” she said, sunglasses pushed up, smile too perfect to be real. “Thought we could make breakfast for the paps. Show them what happy looks like.”
I shut the door in her face.
But not before she whispered, “You know what happens if you don’t play nice.”
The threat wasn’t loud. Didn’t need to be.
She’s got enough dirt, enough twisted angles, enough media clout to make a mess I can’t sweep up, not without hurting people who don’t deserve it.
Like Josie.
She’s been posting nonstop since.
Photos of us. Reels. Captions that make my skin crawl.
Sometimes old flames burn brighter the second time around #BackTogether #KnightlyEverAfter
She’s building a whole fantasy online like Josie never existed.
Likewenever existed.
I’ve told her to stop. I’ve warned her. Hell, I’ve threatened legal action. But Savannah doesn’t listen, she escalates.
My phone buzzes again. Another tag. Another post. Another lie.
I open it before I can stop myself. It’s a video. Savannah and I at some black-tie thing I barely remember showing up to years ago. The caption says something about “strong couples weathering storms” and “choosing love.”
I grip the edge of the bar, knuckles white.
The comments roll in. Hearts, congratulations, people begging for a wedding date. Some reporter’s even asking for a quote.
She’s loving every damn second of it.
And me?
I’m sitting in this empty restaurant, watching a woman I don’t want rewrite my story, while the only woman Idowant is nowhere to be found.
Nova finally storms in from the office, waving her iPad like a sword. “You see this crap she posted?”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “I’ve seen all of it.”
“She’s turning this whole thing into a damn PR stunt. You know that, right? Damn, isn’t it enough that she isn’t allowed in The Marrow anymore!”
“I know.”
Nova leans on the counter, narrowing her eyes at me. “You want me to put out a statement? Shut it down officially?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “ShouldIpost something? I hate this shit, but maybe if I say something, people will get the message.”
