Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
DEVON
The restraining order finally fucking arrives on a sunny Tuesday morning.
It's official—legal and binding.
But I don't believe for a second that it will stop her.
Jade is at Katrina's for the afternoon—a much-needed break from the pressure cooker our house has become. I encouraged her to go and told her I'd handle things here. What I didn't tell her is that I've arranged to meet Mila one final time.
I know it's a risk. I know Officer Gray would tell me I'm an idiot. But I also know Mila won't stop until she gets whatever she thinks she needs—and I'd rather have that conversation on my terms, in a public place, with witnesses.
The coffee shop on Fifth is busy enough that no one will notice us, but quiet enough that I'll hear everything she says. I arrive fifteen minutes early and choose a table near the window, visible from the street. My phone is already recording in my pocket.
Documentation. Evidence. Protection.
The words have become a mantra.
Mila arrives at exactly two o'clock. She's dressed in yoga pants and an oversized sweater, her hair pulled back, her face bare of makeup.
She slides into the seat across from me, her green eyes searching my face.
"This is the last time we speak, Mila. Ever. I'm here to make that clear."
Her expression flickers—hurt, then anger. "You don't mean that."
"I do." I keep my voice level. "The restraining order was filed this morning. If you contact me or Jade after today, you'll be arrested."
Mila laughs and even rolls her eyes. "A piece of paper won't change what happened between us."
Who rolls their eyes about a fucking restraining order? This crazy chick, that’s who.
"Nothing happened between us. A kiss. One kiss that I regret more than anything I've ever done." I lean forward, holding her gaze. "I never slept with you, Mila. I know it. You know it. And whatever story you've been telling yourself—it's not real."
"How can you say that?" Her voice rises, and a few heads turn in our direction. "I was there. I remember everything. You wanted me, Devon. You followed me upstairs, you—"
"I walked you to your room because you couldn't stand.
I kissed you—once—and then I stopped. I told you it was wrong.
And then I passed out in that chair." I watch her face as I speak, searching for the cracks.
"The next morning, you told me yourself.
'It was just a drunken kiss. That's all. ' Those were your exact words."
Mila's eyes narrow. "I didn't want you to feel guilty—"
"Stop." The word comes out harder than I intend. "Stop lying. To me, to Jade, to yourself. Whatever fantasy you've built around that night—it's over. It was over the second I woke up and realized what I'd done."
She stares at me, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I watch something change behind her eyes—desperation bleeding into rage.
"I'm pregnant, Devon."
"So you keep saying." I don't flinch. "Get a paternity test. Prove it's mine."
"It is yours. I know it is."
"Then prove it."
She's silent. Her hands tremble on the table.
"You can't," I continue. "Because you know it's not true. Because nothing happened between us that would make it possible."
"You don't remember—"
"I remember." I stand, leaving my untouched coffee on the table.
"I remember pulling away and saying no. I remember waking up fully clothed in your chair.
Whatever you're telling yourself about that night—whatever bullshit you've made up to justify this obsession—it's a lie, Mila. And deep down, you know it."
Her face contorts.
“Don’t leave me!” Her voice is high, frantic. "Not when I'm—we're connected now, Devon."
"We're not connected. We were never connected. You were someone I knew in high school, someone I made a terrible mistake with as a stupid adult, and now you're someone I need to stay away from for the rest of my life."
I turn toward the door.
"If you walk out that door—" Her voice cuts through the café, loud enough that everyone is listening now. "If you leave me, I'll tell everyone what really happened. I'll tell Jade every detail. I'll—"
I stop and twist around.
"Tell her what? The truth?" I laugh. "Jade already knows everything. The kiss. The hotel room. All of it. She knows, and she still loves me. She knows I'm telling the truth."
Mila's face crumples. Tears stream down her cheeks, but there's no sympathy left in me. Not after everything she's put Jade through.
“We could have had everything,” she whispers. “Yet you choose that fat—”
“Don’t even finish that fucking sentence.
She’s a million times the woman you’ll ever be.
You wanted something I couldn't give you, and when you didn't get it, you tried to destroy my marriage.
" I step closer, lowering my voice so only she can hear.
"Stay away from my wife. Stay away from me.
If I see you again—anywhere—I'm calling the police. "
I'm almost at the door when her voice stops me one final time.
"Then what's the point?" The words are barely audible. "If I can't have you—if you don’t want me anymore—what's the point of any of it?"
If I don’t want her anymore? I never wanted her!
Mila is slumped in her chair, her hands pressed against her stomach, her eyes vacant.
"I don't know what to do anymore," she continues, her voice distant. "Without you, I don't know if I can exist.”
Fucking hell—"Mila—"
"Don't." She looks up at me. "Don't pretend you care now. You made your choice."
"If you're having thoughts of hurting yourself, you need to call someone," I tell her. "A therapist. A crisis line. Someone who can actually help you."
"The only person who could help me is you."
"That's not true. And it's not healthy. Talk to someone. But it can't be me, Mila. Not anymore."
Then I walk out of the coffee shop onto the street, my body shaking violently.
She's unwell. Genuinely unwell. And I don't know if a restraining order can protect us from someone who has nothing left to lose.
I glance back at the coffee shop, seeing Mila standing there watching me, her fists clenched, her expression blank.
Jesus.
I call Officer Gray from my car. I tell her everything, and she groans when I tell her I met up with her.
“I know, but please, just listen.”
“There’s a restraining order in place! You can’t just go meeting up with her whenever you feel like it!” Officer Gray is furious.
“I know. But please—”
“Go on then, tell me what happened,” Officer Gray grunts reluctantly.
"She made concerning statements," I explain, my voice shaking. "About not knowing why she's still here. About what's the point. I don't know if it was manipulation or genuine, but—"
"We'll send someone to check on her," Gray replies. “Don’t contact her again, Mr. Locke. Now go home to your wife."
I hang up and grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white.
I have a sinking feeling that things are only going to get worse.
I drive home, praying I'm wrong.