The Ex Shows Up
S aturday morning brought with it the hum of the city outside and the smell of fresh coffee inside. Harper padded into the kitchen, hair in a messy bun, wearing her favorite oversized sweatshirt. Ethan was already at the counter, mug in hand, scrolling through his phone like he owned the place.
“You’re up early,” she said, reaching for a mug.
He glanced up, smirk tugging at his mouth. “Couldn’t sleep. Someone was talking in her sleep about ‘color palettes’ and ‘deadline disasters.’”
Her cheeks heated. “I do not talk in my sleep.”
“You do. Very passionately.”
She muttered something about caffeine and poured herself coffee, ignoring his grin. She was halfway through her first sip when a sharp knock rattled the door.
Ethan frowned, setting his phone down. “Expecting anyone?”
Harper shook her head. He strode to the door and swung it open, only for Harper to nearly spit her coffee across the room.
Standing in the doorway was Melissa.
Or at least the girl Harper assumed to be Melissa, based on the photos she’d seen when they’d signed the lease together. Tall, effortlessly stylish, radiating that breezy confidence Harper had never quite mastered.
And she wasn’t alone. Her hand clutched the arm of a man in a sleek jacket, who looked bored to death until his gaze landed on Ethan.
“Ethan,” Melissa said, voice honeyed and sharp at once. “You’re home.”
“Melissa.” Ethan’s tone was flat, guarded.
The silence stretched, thick and awkward. Harper’s pulse skittered. So this was the infamous ex.
“You’re looking... well,” Melissa continued, eyes flicking briefly to Harper like she was cataloging her existence before discarding her. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by.”
Ethan crossed his arms. “With your new boyfriend?”
Melissa’s smile didn’t falter. “This is Daniel. He’s—”
“Not important,” Ethan cut in, eyes flashing.
Harper hovered in the kitchen, unsure whether to melt into the floor or grab her plant Fred as a shield. Melissa’s gaze snapped back to her, sharp enough to slice.
“And you are?”
Harper opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Words tangled in her throat. Roommate? Stranger? Woman caught in the wrong apartment with the wrong man?
Before she could answer, Ethan moved smoothly, sliding an arm around Harper’s shoulders. His touch was warm, solid, grounding. “This is Harper,” he said evenly. “My girlfriend.”
Harper’s brain short-circuited. Girlfriend?!
Melissa blinked, a flicker of surprise in her otherwise perfect expression. “Girlfriend?”
“That’s right,” Ethan said, tightening his hold just enough to make it convincing. “Harper and I live here now. Together.”
Harper forced a smile, praying her face didn’t look as shell-shocked as she felt. “Hi.” The word squeaked out.
Melissa’s lips twitched like she was suppressing a laugh. “Well. That was fast.”
“Life’s full of surprises,” Ethan shot back, echoing the very words he’d told Harper on her first day.
The tension hung between them, sparking like live wires. Finally, Melissa shrugged, tugging Daniel’s arm. “We should go. Enjoy your... domestic bliss.”
As soon as the door closed behind her, Harper shoved Ethan’s arm away, heat flooding her cheeks. “Girlfriend?! What was that?”
He looked entirely unbothered, strolling back to the counter for his coffee. “Seemed like the easiest way to get rid of her.”
“You can’t just—” She threw her hands up. “Do you have any idea what you just did?”
Ethan sipped his coffee, smirk infuriatingly calm. “Saved you from interrogation. You’re welcome.”
Harper groaned, collapsing into a chair. “This is insane. She’s going to think—”
“She’s going to think I moved on,” he interrupted, voice sharp in a way she hadn’t heard before. “Which is exactly what I want her to think.”
Harper studied him, the cracks in his easy smile more visible now. Beneath the charm and teasing, there was something raw—something that still hurt.
And even though she wanted to throttle him for dragging her into the middle of it, a tiny part of her chest ached too.