For a while, the weight lifts. For a while, we just breathe, and drink, and laugh.
Ansel cracks one eye open, her words slurred but sharp enough to cut. “You know, once upon a time, Stella kissed me. Full tongue. Freshman year of college. She swore it didn’t mean anything.”
Heat flares across my cheeks. “Ansel—”
Elaine’s gaze snaps to me, her brows arching, lips curving slowly and dangerously. “Oh?” she drawls, her thumb pressing into my palm like she’s claiming me all over again. “And here I thought I was the lucky one.”
Ansel cackles, wicked and unbothered. “Relax. It was one kiss. She still blushed about it forweeks.”
“I did not,” I mutter, wishing the tequila could burn the memory out of existence.
“You did,” Ansel sing-songs, pointing her lime wedge at me like she’s presenting Exhibit A.
Elaine leans closer, her breath tickling my ear. “Good to know I’m not the first woman who couldn’t resist you,” she whispers, low enough that Ansel can’t hear. The shiver that runs through me has nothing to do with alcohol.
Ansel tips her glass toward us, eyes glittering with tequila and mischief. “Well, shit. Guess I should’ve held onto her a little tighter. Could’ve been me sandwiched in that kiss right now.”
Elaine smirks, unbothered, her fingers brushing possessively over my thigh. “Too late. She’s mine now.”
Ansel throws back her shot, laughing wickedly. “God, you two are hot together. Like, offensively hot. Some of us are just sitting here horny and third-wheeling.”
Heat creeps up my neck, the tequila making it harder to tell if it’s embarrassment or thrill. Elaine leans closer, her voice a silken whisper only for me:“Remember, widow, I like when they notice”
The air between us thickens, electric and a little dangerous, and I can’t tell if it’s the tequila or something deeper making my pulse race.
The doorbell cuts through the laughter, sharp and jarring. I blink, the tequila fog slipping just enough for dread to coil in my stomach. Elaine squeezes my knee, but I push up from the counter and cross the living room.
A man in a perfectly cut suit stands at the door—polished shoes, crisp tie, the kind of presence that screamslawyerorhitman. His expression gives nothing away as he extends a single envelope toward me.
“From the offices of Salvatore Enzo Faretti’s attorney,” he says smoothly. No explanation. No pause. He turns on his heel and walks back to a waiting black sedan at the curb, the door shutting with a clean, expensive thud.
Suddenly, I’m stone sober. My hands tremble as I tear open the envelope.
Inside are the signed divorce papers. My breath stutters when I see Donovan’s handwriting scrawled across a short note, tucked on top.
Stella,I was stupid. I should never have cheated. I don’t know why I did—anger, selfishness, and weakness. All I know is I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. I lashed out because I couldn’t face the truth of what I’d done. I’m sorry for every bit of pain I caused you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I want you to have peace. I’ve signed the papers. All property remains yours.I’m leaving the country—maybe for good. You deserve better than me.—Donovan
The words blur. My throat tightens, but I force air in and out. My fingers shake against the paper, the weight of it so much heavier than it should be.
Elaine’s hand glides down the length of my back, steadying me as I lower the papers. When our eyes meet, there’s no relief—only doubt, sharp and unspoken. Too neat. Too clean.
Ansel leans in over my shoulder, peering at the note with wide eyes. “Holyshit. He signed? He’s actually giving you everything?” She snatches the edge of the envelope like it’s proof of a miracle. “Stell, this is it. You’re free.”
Her grin spreads, bright and reckless, unbothered by the weight pressing down between me and Elaine. “I’m going to tell Mac. He’s gonna lose his mind over this.”
She grabs her phone and disappears down the hall, leaving the two of us in the heavy silence, staring at the too-perfect letter like it’s a loaded gun.
We drift to the couch without speaking, the papers still clutched in my shaking hands. When I collapse onto the cushions, my body is heavy with the weight of what's to come and tequila. I curl into myself, knees tucked tight, and let my head fall into Elaine’s lap.
She doesn’t hesitate. Her fingers slip into my hair, slow and gentle, combing through the strands like she could untangle the knots inside me, too. “There you are,” she whispers, soft enough it might be meant only for me.
“My beautiful girl,” she murmurs, stroking her fingers slowly through my hair. “You don’t even see it, do you? The way you shine. It’s like stepping into the eye of the storm—all that devastation swirling, and there you are, warmth and beauty wrapping around me like a masterpiece. Every time I look at you, I forget how to breathe.”
Her voice cracks just faintly, soft but certain. “And you don’t even realize how much I’ve fallen in love with you, Stella. It’s fucking maddening.”
The words hang between us, heavy and unshakable. Something in me snaps, not into pieces this time but into clarity. I push up, straddling her lap, my knees bracketing her hips. My hands cradle her face, forcing her to see me the way she just described.
My voice comes out rough, trembling with something too big to cage. “You may have been my husband’s mistress, but Donovan was nothing more than a stepping stone tous. He shattered me—cut me open until I didn’t recognize myself. But you, Elaine…you’re the one who gathered every jagged piece and held them like they were precious. You didn’t just put me back together. You made mewholeagain.”
