It’s nothing like the lake. No hesitation this time, no room left for air or thought. Just heat. Her hand slides up the back of my neck, pulling me in deeper, her lips moving against mine like she’s been waiting years for this.
I press her back into the wall, the picture frames rattling, but she doesn’t stop me. She pulls me closer, nails scraping at my hip, her breath ragged against my mouth.
When we finally break, I’m breathless, my forehead resting against hers.
“What the hell are we doing?” I whisper, though I don’t let go.
Her smile is faint, dangerous. “Whatever we want.”
Before I have a moment to respond, her mouth is on mine again. It’s rougher this time, hungrier, the kind of kiss that makes me ache with need. Her hands bracket my waist, and I clutch at her shirt like it’s the only thing keeping me standing.
The kiss deepens, tilts, and heat climbs with every pull and press. My head is spinning, my pulse is wild, and all I can think is how much I don’t want this to stop.
And then—a sharp knock at the door. My whole body jolts. Elaine stills, her forehead pressed against mine, both of us breathing hard. The knock doesn’t come again, but the spell is broken.
I shove off the wall, running a hand down my braids like that could settle the heat under my skin. “Shit.” I walk over and open the front door. No one is there.
Elaine straightens, but her eyes stay on me, steady. “Stella.” Her voice is low, almost raw. “We can’t keep pretending this is just—whatever. Not when it feels likethis.”
I look at her, throat tight. “Then tell me what it is.”
She shakes her head. “No. We decide together. But if we’re doing this… There can’t be lies. No omissions. No games. Just the truth. All of it.”
Her words settle heavy in the air between us, heavier than the kiss, heavier than the knock that dragged us apart.
With Donovan, there was always a voice in my head telling me something was off. Even on our wedding day, I heard it.
Now, standing here with Elaine, it’s quiet. No warning, no doubt. Just her.
I lean back, breath still unsteady, the taste of her kiss lingering like it branded me. “Fine,” I say, my voice lower than I mean it. “You want no omissions? Just truths?”Elaine’s nod is barely there, but her eyes don’t flinch.
“My truth is…” I pause, fingers tightening in the fabric of her shirt. “When you look at me, it doesn’t feel like a mistake. Itdoesn’t feel like I’m waiting for something to snap beneath my feet. It feels… solid. Like I’ve been standing on the wrong ground my whole damn life, and you’re the only thing that doesn’t shift under me.”
Her breath hitches, the faintest crack in that lawyer composure she always wears like armor.
“And that terrifies me,” I finish, softer now, but steadier. “Because I’m divorcing the man I thought I’d spend my life with… and I’m scared. Scared because I want this. I wantyou.”
The words leave me raw, exposed.
Elaine’s eyes don’t waver. She leans in, just enough that her voice brushes against my skin.
“You think you’re the only one scared?” Her laugh is quiet, bitter at the edges. “I’ve wanted this longer than I should admit. Even when I tried to hate you, I couldn’t stop watching.”
The sharpness in her tone is undercut by how soft her hand is when it finds mine again. She doesn’t let go.
Her hand is warm around mine, steady where my pulse is anything but. I should pull back, give myself space to breathe, but instead I lean closer until I can see the flecks of green in her eyes.
Her smile is faint, crooked, almost cruel. “God, I tried so hard to hate you, but hate’s easy when it covers up everything else.”
My breath catches. “Everything else?”
Her gaze doesn’t flinch. “Wanting you. Watching you. Knowing I couldn’t have you.”
The floor tilts under me. My mouth crashes into hers, and she meets me with the kind of hunger that makes it clear we’ve both been waiting far too long. It’s rougher than I expected, her hand tangling in my braid, pulling me closer until my gasp turns into a low sound I don’t recognize as mine.
Her mouth parts against mine, and the kiss turns messier, teeth grazing, breaths colliding. I grip the front of her shirt,trying to pull our bodies closer. Every inch of me is wound too tight, desperate, and reckless.
Elaine breaks first, just enough to drag her lips across my jaw, her breath hot against my skin. “This,” she murmurs, low, rough, “was never supposed to happen.”
