Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
OLIVIA
Thank God this evening is finally over. I can’t take being in the same room as him one second longer.
That stare. Those eyes. Those brown eyes. The way he was looking at me, at my lips, at my body. Nope. Nope. Stop it, Olivia. He wasn’t looking at anything. You’re making shit up. You have a husband. Two kids. He has a wife. Two kids. A whole damn family.
A perfect wife, by the way. Not that I didn’t know that already.
I stalked her Instagram seven years ago.
And again, five years ago. And, for fuck’s sake, a week ago.
Blonde-ish, green eyes, sweet smile. Of course, he picked someone who looks just like me.
Like I wasn’t enough for him, but the idea of me was.
And the worst part? I still care enough to notice, to compare us.
To hate that it still stings me that she gets to have a life with him. Ugh!
I press my palms against my eyes, like I can block him out, erase the way my body lit up under his gaze. But it’s useless. Because I know the truth, I can’t say it out loud. Sixteen years later, Ethan Cole is still the most dangerous man in the room. And he dares to say I’m the dangerous one.
The house is quieter. Even the walls feel like they’re exhaling after all the chaos from today.
Mom, Dad, and Anne are in the kitchen, voices low, talking about the service.
I pause in the doorway, watching them. The three of them move around each other so easily that it almost looks normal.
I’ll never understand it. But I guess I don’t have to.
I couldn’t imagine divorcing my husband because he cheated, watching him marry his mistress, and then opening the door to both of them like nothing happened.
But my mom? She does it with grace. A saint, really.
Julia’s beside me, rolling her eyes the second Anne laughs at something Dad says.
I can’t help but laugh. “Quit it, Jules.”
“I just don’t get it,” she mutters. “We don’t have to,” I say. “If it works for them, that’s enough for me.” She shoots me a look. “Yeah, because you didn’t have to grow up with her.”
Ouch. That one stings. She’s not wrong. When I left, I left her behind.
Both of them. God knows it still hurts to admit it, but I couldn’t stay here, not after everything.
I exhale. “I know. I shouldn’t talk about something I didn’t live.
But… she’s nice to Mom. She makes Dad happy.
And sometimes in marriages, in relationships in general, that’s what it comes down to.
” Julia huffs, crosses her arms. “I hate you.”
I bump her shoulder. “No, you don’t.” Her mouth twitches, then she nods, smiling in spite of herself. She knows I’m right. “You want a glass of wine?” I offer. She shakes her head. “You know what, I’m calling it. I’m exhausted.”
“You must be if you’re turning down wine.
” We both chuckle, the tension breaking for now.
I watch her head down the hall before I climb the stairs, the house too loud and too quiet all at once.
I drag myself upstairs, slow, heavy, like my body’s fighting me.
Change into an old sleep shirt and underwear, tug my hair down, and crawl into bed.
Sleep? Yeah, right. Not happening. ‘Still dangerous.’ The way Ethan said it, it’s on a loop in my head. I need to get him out of here.
I grab my phone and call David. His voice is steady and reliable, as always.
We talk about the kids, dinner, bedtime, and some juice spilled on the couch—the usual stuff.
I clutch onto it like a lifeline, like I can anchor myself in routine.
But when we hang up, the quiet swallows me.
And Ethan’s still there. In my head. Under my skin. Fuck.
I stare at the ceiling, one hand under the pillow. The other knows exactly what it wants. I reach into my bag, pull out the vibrator I packed like the good, responsible adult I pretend to be, just in case.
I lie back, press it between my legs, and even before I switch it on, I know where my mind’s already going—no fantasy needed. I think about his hands, his mouth. That look in his eyes earlier, hungry but restrained, like he wanted me and hated himself for it. I close my eyes and let myself go.
That low rasp of my name in his voice. The way he used to say it was like I wasn’t just someone, I was his someone.
My nipples tighten under my shirt as I roll one between my fingers.
My body responds instantly. The vibrator hums to life, my hips shifting, chasing the pressure.
My thighs fall open. Breath shaky, spilling out too fast.
I picture him over me, mouth on my neck, his hands gripping my waist. That sound he made right before he lost control. The rhythm builds, faster, harder. My body arches, grinding into the toy, chasing it, needing it. His voice in my head, my name breaking me apart.
The orgasm rips through me, sharp and deep. My back arches, breath stuttering out silently. Tight, then loose, leaving me raw, empty, and wrecked. I blink at the ceiling, chest heaving, skin damp. And it hits me, cold and brutal.
I didn’t think about David.
Not once.
Shit.
The morning comes quietly, just a ray of sunshine creeping through the window.
I glance at my cellphone, which I forgot to charge last night, with all the distractions.
It’s almost ten in the morning. I haven’t slept this much since before being a mother—shit, even before owning a company—so that's nearly ten years.
The smell of coffee drifts up the stairs, rich and warm. I want it like oxygen. Even as I brush my teeth and wash my face, he’s there. Ethan. His eyes. That stare. This is hell, being back here, carrying him like a ghost in my head.
I grab my laptop, my phones, both chargers, and head downstairs. “Good morning, Olivia.” I stop short. Anne. She’s at the counter, bright smile in place, handing me a mug. Did she spend the night? Weird. “Morning, Anne. Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Oh, I decided to come early to help your mom with breakfast. I didn’t want her to be alone today.” I bite my tongue. She’s not alone. Julia and I are here. But sure, Anne. “How thoughtful of you,” I say, forcing a smile. She beams and passes me a coffee. Damn it. It smells amazing.
Julia wanders in a minute later with bed hair and a raised eyebrow, shooting me a what the fuck is going on?
Look. I shake my head. Anne does the same routine, hands her a mug, then breezes out to the porch where Mom and Dad are talking.
“This is hell,” Julia mutters. She’s not wrong.
I laugh and open my computer to see if I can get some work done.
And when I turn on my work phone, all the messages and voicemails come buzzing.
“Oh fuck” Julia leans closer. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just work piling up. I need to get through this.”
“Yeah, sure, you want to go grab brunch downtown later?”
“That sounds amazing, give me one hour,” She just nods, and goes my way to try and calm the chaos. The thing about work is that I’m the boss, but I’m also an employee because, of course, no one does things the way I want to, so I end up doing it myself.
In this field, presence is everything. When you work with small businesses or even big companies, if you don’t have a strong presence, you are out of the game.
And I can’t be out of anything. This year so far, my company has made over 4.
2 million dollars, which in any other industry might not seem like a lot, but in the Marketing industry and for a ‘small agency’ like the papers like to call us. It is.