Chapter 5 .

ANABEL'S POV

Miles adjusted his shirt, and the wall he'd kept up between us for weeks slammed right back into place as he started toward the kitchen.

"What does it look like? After everything she's been through, I'm just helping her get her mind off things. She deserves that much," he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee before taking a sip.

It looked like nothing of the sort. He always had a reason ready, some excuse for why a married man doing inappropriate things with another woman was somehow acceptable. But I swallowed it and let it go.

Fine. He had his excuse for that. Let's see what he had to say about this.

"So why is she wearing your hoodie? Is that also helping her relieve stress?" The venom in my voice was impossible to miss.

"Listen, Anabel, it's early. I don't have the patience for your drama today. It's my hoodie, and I decide who wears it."

"Wow." I let out a small scoff, shaking my head. "Are you even listening to yourself? Is this completely normal to you? So if I came home one day wearing another man's clothes, would you be fine with that?" I didn't bother hiding the sarcasm.

"Don't you dare try that with me," he said, his voice dropping low as he pointed a finger at me.

"Then stop all this nonsense," I shot back, my voice rising.

"Please, stop... please. I'll take it off if that's what you want. I'm sorry. I didn't have time to pack enough clothes. Please just stop arguing," Cierra cut in, suddenly crumbling as though she couldn't bear watching us fight.

Before I could respond, her knight in shining armor rushed to her side and sat beside her. "Hey, it's okay. You don't need to take it off. I gave you permission to wear it. She doesn't own it. My word stands."

He glared at me before pulling her into a hug, gently rubbing the back of her head. "Don't let this get to you."

My mouth fell open. I couldn't believe what I was watching. Was this the same man I'd fallen in love with and married?

"In fact," he said, glancing back at me, "why don't we go somewhere calm and nice, away from this disturbance?"

She nodded, and the two of them got up and started toward the front door.

"A nice quiet restaurant. Just you and me," he said as they walked past me.

"I'd like that," Cierra replied.

Then, just when I thought I'd seen it all, she glanced back at me and gave me a small wink.

My nails dug deep into my palm as I watched her do it. I knew all of this was fake, but there was nothing I could do about it. And just like that, they left me standing there like I didn't matter.

I watched from the window as they climbed into the car, and drove away. I didn't know whether to be angry or to break down and cry. My chest just felt hollow. My whole body did.

Evening came, and they still weren't back.

I sat on the couch waiting for him. He'd said he was only taking her to a restaurant, yet they'd spent the entire day out. Part of me stayed there waiting for him to come home.

I'd tried calling him several times, to apologize even though I hadn't done anything wrong. Every call went straight to voicemail.

So I kept waiting, my eyes dropping to the divorce papers in my lap. Tears fell onto the pages. My eyes were swollen from hours of crying.

The front door opened. I wiped my face quickly and immediately forced a smile, hoping it was Miles. But it was Chloe. Just like that, the tiny bit of hope left inside me disappeared.

"Why's the whole house so quiet? Where's the party? The champagne?" Chloe asked, walking in and scanning the room like she'd expected something completely different. She'd texted earlier to say she was coming.

Then she saw me. Legs folded. Papers in hand. Eyes red.

"Oh no, Ana," she said, immediately rushing over and sitting beside me. "You spent your birthday focused on this?"

A humorless laugh escaped me. "Pretty depressing, right?"

She sighed. "Okay, the crying and moping ends now. Get up."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we're going out, and we're going to have some fun."

"I'm really not in the mood."

"Not in the mood? It's your birthday, a day that only comes once a year, and you're not in the mood? You don't even know if you'll get to celebrate it next year. Life isn't guaranteed. I'm not letting you waste a perfectly good day being depressed."

She folded her arms, unmoving. "Get dressed."

I groaned, dropping back against the couch. "Chloe..."

"I'm serious. Drinks. Fun. Now."

And surprisingly, an hour later, I found myself sitting in a beautiful lounge downtown, soft music drifting through the warm, dim lighting that reflected off the glasses lined up behind the bar. 

People chatted quietly while waiters weaved between the tables. For once, my thoughts drifted somewhere else.

Chloe kept trying to make me laugh, and despite myself, I did. Small at first. But real. I'd missed that feeling.

I drank more than I normally would, enough for warmth to spread through me and loosen some of the weight sitting on my chest.

Then Chloe's phone rang, and concern immediately crossed her face. "What?" She straightened. "Okay... okay, I'm coming."

"What happened?" I asked.

"My aunt was rushed to the hospital," she said, already grabbing her purse. "I'm sorry, babes. I have to go."

I let out a small sigh. "It's fine. Go."

She hesitated, studying me. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Ana..." She paused. "Let me call you a driver."

"I'm not ready to go home yet."

She watched me for another moment before reluctantly nodding. "Promise you'll call me when you leave."

"I promise."

The moment she left, the distraction went with her. I sat alone, nursing another drink, watching the condensation slide down the glass onto my fingers as my thoughts circled back to Miles no matter how hard I fought them.

The worst part was realizing that despite everything… Despite the humiliation. Over and over again. I still loved him.

I checked the time on my phone. It was already getting late. I needed to be home before Miles got back and noticed I wasn't there.

I slipped my phone into my bag, finished my drink, and headed toward the exit, struggling to walk in a straight line.

The whole lounge buzzed with music and conversation, so when I first heard a voice calling from behind me, I ignored it. Then someone gently caught my wrist.

I turned to find a man dressed nothing like everyone else in the lounge, put together in a way that made him stand out.

Still, I knew where I was. Men like this came to places like this to take women like me home. Nothing but playboys.

I held up my hand, flashing my ring. "I'm married."

"Okay, but…”

"But nothing," I cut him off. "I didn't come here to go home with anyone. I'm not like some of the girls here that you can just take home and fuck. I'm not a slut. I'm a completely devoted wife, even if it's not mutual. I wouldn't cheat."

I could hear how drunk I sounded even as I spoke.

"I'm not here to take you anywhere. I'm here to get my phone back."

"Huh?"

"You have my phone."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because I'm fairly sure my wallpaper isn't a man and a woman together, where the woman looks exactly like you." He held up the phone in his hand, and my wedding photo lit up the screen.

My eyes widened.

What the hell?

Hold on… If he had my phone, then…

I looked down at the one in my hand. The wallpaper wasn't mine anymore. It was him. The same well-dressed, handsome stranger standing in front of me.

A small, sheepish laugh escaped me as I realized my mistake. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I must've taken yours by mistake."

"They look identical, so it's not really your fault. Plus..." He paused, like he didn't want to finish the thought.

"Plus what?"

"You're drunk."

"No, I'm not. I'm completely fine."

My body betrayed me instantly as I staggered. He immediately caught me by the waist before gravity could do its job.

"Easy there," he said. "What's your name?"

He asked it almost like he was my boss, and somehow I answered anyway.

"Anabel."

"Okay, Anabel. Why don't we get you somewhere you can sit down? Did you come alone? Is your husband here?"

I let out a bitter laugh, trying to point at him and failing to keep my finger steady. "My husband's out with another woman. So no, he's not with me."

"So are you planning on getting home like this?"

"Like I said... I'm fine, Mr..." I trailed off, waiting.

"Dmitri."

"I'm fine, Dmitri."

I tried to walk and stumbled again.

"You're not. You need help."

Before I could argue, he lifted me off my feet, carrying me like I weighed nothing.

"Put me down," I mumbled.

But the music was already fading. My vision blurred. And then… 

Nothing.

~~~

When I woke up the next morning, my head was pounding. I squeezed my eyes shut, then forced them open again, and instantly something felt wrong.

The bedroom around me was enormous. Far too luxurious.

I sat up too quickly and immediately regretted it as dizziness crashed over me. My eyes darted around the unfamiliar room while dread settled deep into my chest.

This wasn't my room. This wasn't my house. Fragments of the night before flickered weakly through my mind, disappearing before I could hold on to them.

Then I looked down at myself. My clothes had been changed. My breath caught. My hands started shaking.

What exactly had happened last night?