Ethan's POV
She was with Lucian.
They were dining together, smiling like nothing in the world ever went wrong. Watching her laugh so easily, leaning closer to him—it made my blood boil.
I clenched my jaw, my hands tightening into fists on the table.
Then, a soft touch on my arm pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts. I turned, and for a second, forgot how to breathe.
It was Ember.
She wore a dress that barely reached her thighs, the neckline teasing more than it hid. Her skin glowed under the warm lights, and her confidence was undeniable. Everyone in the hall had turned to look at her…
With a graceful smile, she slipped her hand into mine, as if we belonged—as if we were in love.
Now, I didn't know whether to keep looking at Veronica… or Ember..
Ember leaned closer, whispering softly, "Smile, Ethan. She's watching."
I obeyed.
I didn't even have to look to know Veronica had seen us. But I did anyway—and there it was. A flicker of surprise in her eyes. Her smile faltered just for a second as she glanced between me and Ember.
Lucian said something to her, but her attention wasn't on him anymore.
She was staring at us.
Good.
Ember gently rested her head on my shoulder, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my hand. It was supposed to be an act. A show. But it was getting hard to remember that when she felt so warm and real beside me.
Veronica's expression changed—confusion, then hurt… and finally, forced indifference.
She stood up abruptly. "Lucian, I think I'm done here," I heard her say.
Lucian looked at her, surprised. "Already?"
"I just… I need some air."
She walked away, heels clicking sharply, head held high.
I exhaled slowly. Ember's hand squeezed mine under the table.
"It's working," she said quietly.
As soon as Veronica left, Ember dropped the act like a switch had flipped. She sat back beside me, calm and casual, and called for a drink.
Then another.
And another.
"Ember," I reached out, stopping her hand before the fourth, "Don't."
She looked at me—eyes slightly glossy but defiant. "Why do you care, Mr. Hart?"
Her voice wasn't angry. Just… tired.
Before I could answer, she ordered two more and downed them like water.
I could see it now—her legs wobbling slightly, posture slumping. She was tipsy. Fast.
Damian's voice echoed in my memory: "Ember? She's a good girl, Ethan. Doesn't party, doesn't drink, never chases drama. One of the kindest people on campus."
She slumped onto the velvet seat, her posture lazy but her eyes distant. I joined her, unsure if I should say something… or just sit in silence.
Then she spoke, voice soft, almost too casual.
"Why don't you go and talk to her, Ethan? Veronica, I mean. I'll be here."
There was no jealousy in her tone, no bitterness. Just quiet acceptance. Like she was gently reminding me of the plan… of my goal.
I finally found her—Veronica—sitting alone on a couch in the far corner of the lounge, staring blankly at her glass. I walked over, my heart heavier with every step.
I sat beside her.
"Why, Veronica?" I asked quietly. "Why did you leave me?"
She turned to me, her expression unreadable. "Because you changed, Ethan. Even while you were with me… your heart wasn't."
"That's not true," I said, my voice tight. "Do you really think I'd go so far as to sleep with another woman while I was engaged to you?"
She just looked at me, then exhaled softly. "I don't want you anymore, Ethan. Please… just leave me alone."
She stood to go but paused.
"It's night. Shouldn't you be with your wife?" she said, her tone bitter before she disappeared into the crowd.
I returned to the room feeling strangely empty… only to realize Ember wasn't there. The silence hit me harder than expected.
I walked toward the window—and there she was.
Ember sat alone on a bench facing the sea, the wind pulling at her hair. The night air was bitterly cold, yet she wore only that short dress she had chosen earlier—to look confident, to look like she belonged in a world she never asked for.