1. amelia
1
AMELIA
T he vibrant nightlife in the streets of Toronto made my secret espionage mission feel less exciting than I had hoped. Maybe it was a distraction for my already frayed nerves, imagining myself like Ezio Auditore from Assassins Creed, moving stealthily among the skyscrapers to finally approach my target unnoticed.
A trendy hotel whose top floor housed a high-class restaurant where one could gaze across the entire city.
Not for the first time in the past few hours, it dawned on me that it probably had never been a business trip—but rather, an ongoing scheduled appointment to have sex with someone else. To betray me.
I didn't even want to know how long he had been seeing her.
How long he had been lying to my face, telling me everything was all right, while he was in a solar system light-years away from me. None of that mattered anymore. All I wanted was to see with my own eyes that he was cheating on me. Only then would I have absolute certainty—my perfect boyfriend had turned into a despicable cheater.
It was the honking of cabs on the busy street next to me that almost made me explode. Since noon today, I had felt this burning knot in my stomach. It started as just a slight unease, but with every step closer to the hotel, it worsened, as if I could choke on my own breaths at any moment.
People shuffled past me, their faces hidden beneath masks of indifference. I wondered if they were also experiencing turmoil in their lives, standing amidst the ruins of their existence, feeling somewhat numb, yet unable to erupt like a volcano, as you often see on TV.
The main character was betrayed and immediately embarked on a crusade for revenge, aiming to highlight her wounded feelings. However, I didn't feel hurt in that particular way. We had drifted apart over the past few months, and even though I had fought for things to change, he seemed to have moved on long ago.
A soft snort escaped me. Despite everything, I had turned up to the funeral of my relationship in top form. Everything about me was flawless—not that it was usually any different, but today, I had made an extra effort.
Even then, I wasn't quite sure if I would let him know that I had been at the restaurant and had seen him with her.
When I arrived at the hotel, I still hesitated to go inside—to take the elevator and listen to the reading of the eulogy for my relationship. So I pulled out my phone and saw that he hadn't messaged me. Why would he? What was I expecting really?
Gritting my teeth, I dialed Manon's number.
"Who’s dead?" She answered in less than five seconds.
"No one. Well… sort of. Not a person. But possibly my relationship." I had meant to call her immediately after I made the discovery, but then I hesitated. If Manon knew, there would be no turning back.
That's why I was now bringing her into the loop.
"Wait… what? Did you break up with him?" she asked excitedly. "That's the best news I've heard all week. No, this year. I told you that you deserve much, much better. Do you want me to come over so we can toast to it?"
Her reaction didn't surprise me. Yet, I felt pressure in my chest. How was I supposed to explain? "I'm about to catch him red-handed, M."
"You're what?"
Before answering, I took a deep breath and exhaled. "He's cheating on me, I guess. His supposed business trip is happening in Toronto. He didn't even bother to leave town to have his affair. Now I want to see it with my own eyes."
Manon was silent. Agonizingly long seconds passed before my best friend since childhood finally let out a long sigh. "Okay. I'm sorry about what I just said. Should I come over? What do you need?"
That's exactly why I loved this woman—no matter how impulsive she was, whether she wore her heart on her sleeve, or when she made a mistake, no matter how small—she would apologize immediately and make every effort to set things right.
"Just a little nudge really. I'm still in front of the building and don't dare to?—"
She didn't let me finish. "Pull yourself together, okay? No matter what damning evidence you've found, you need to see it with your own eyes to move on. I know you. So go in there, see the kind of woman he's cheating on you with, and then pack your bags so you can move in with me."
I hadn't thought about what would happen after I had confirmed his infidelity.
"Okay. Fine. I'm going in. But this is crossing the Rubicon; you do realize that, right?"
"No idea what that means, but it sounds like exactly the right decision. Into battle," she said, cheering me on. "And don't forget the updates."
Probably the only update would be proving my suspicion. "Sure," I replied softly and hung up.
Somehow, hearing her voice had helped me. It reminded me that at the end of the day, she was always on my side, and I would never be completely alone.
Into battle , I repeated in my mind and edged my way through the entrance with several tourists before parting ways and heading straight for the elevators. One opened just then as several guests exited, allowing me to slip inside. With the back of my fist, I pressed the button that sent the elevator up to the restaurant.
As it ascended, I mentally counted to ten, trying to shake off the nervousness causing me to fidget. It only helped a bit, and as soon as the doors opened again, I felt adrenaline rush through my body.
I would have preferred to hide in the bathroom until the crushing sensation in my guts had dissipated. But there was no time to turn into a scaredy-cat as I spotted the hostess with the guest list, knowing I had to make a quick decision while she was still busy with the group in front of her.
I turned right, ducking under the hanging branches of the plants set up for privacy.
Normally, this was the moment when one would stop in awe and admire the Toronto skyline, but my gaze was stuck on the back of a man's head who was sitting at the other end of the restaurant next to a blonde woman and…
He turned around, his arm raised, likely to summon a server, but my reflexes had already kicked in. Instinctively, I ducked and slid into the nearest chair to avoid making a fool of myself in front of everyone.
The second I sat down, I leaned back, craning my neck in the direction where I had spotted him. Sitting with a woman. Though she wasn't to blame for his being a jerk, at that moment, I hated her anyway.
This—
Someone cleared their throat. No, not just someone. The man whose table I had unabashedly seated myself at.
Heat rose to my cheeks as I met his dark, gray gaze. "If you are indeed my date, I have a few questions."
I opened my mouth, then closed it, and found myself giving him a thorough appraisal.
A date? With him? He was like something out of my wildest dreams. My naughtiest books. I watched as he wiped his mouth with a napkin before carelessly throwing it beside his plate on the table. Dark tattoos peeked out from under the sleeve of his suit, extending, upon closer inspection, over his hands to his fingers. A ring on his pinkie, a watch on his wrist, and a nondescript bracelet.
His hands seemed damn big. Or maybe the napkin had just been very small. I scooted back in my chair and forced myself to look up.
The top button of his shirt was undone, revealing sun-kissed skin also adorned with dark ink. A necklace… and fuck, how long had I been staring at him?
I snorted before pursing my lips. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding."
He raised an eyebrow and seemed to look right into my soul. Through his dark beard streaked with gray, his mouth twitched as if he were struggling to suppress a smirk. "Is that so?"
He couldn't seriously believe I was his date. Could he?
This guy looks strikingly like Wander Aguiar, and he thinks I'm his date? Sure.
Not that I'd mind—but that's not why I was here. I was here because of my boyfriend. My boyfriend, who was cheating on me at this very minute.
I broke eye contact and looked to the left again, feeling the muscle under my eye twitch as my gaze fell on the back of my boyfriend's head, the laughing blonde right beside him.
"That expression looks familiar. Who hurt you?"
And just like that, my attention snapped back to the man, the owner of that dark, rough voice. He sounded seductive without even trying. And admittedly, he looked the part too.
During my second inspection, I noticed what seemed so out of place about this man. His hair was carelessly combed back, creating the illusion that this was his usual style. But it wasn't, as it was hard to hide that he was more a man of the wilderness than one from the capital.
As I had already observed, this man clearly came straight out of one of the novels I usually read. Was it too bold to ask him to straighten up? To stand so I could confirm that he towered over me by two heads and I could hide behind him like a tree?
I clicked my tongue and once again forced myself to snap back to reality. What had he said last? Oh, yes. The expression on my face seemed familiar to him.
"Is it because your wife looked at you the same way after she found out you were dating someone else?"
Deep lines formed on his forehead, and I wasn't sure, but I thought I could read something like concern on his face as I ignored the brief flash of pain in his eyes following my question.
"Are you telling me your boyfriend is cheating on you?"
I wasn't actually telling him anything, but since he put it so plainly, it seemed okay to answer his question with a nod.
Heat rose within me again. I didn't like the thought of the image it might create of me in his perception.
For a moment, he seemed to ponder, then he propped his large hands on the table, about to rise. His gaze was determinedly directed toward my soon-to-be ex.
I leaned forward, even before my hand had darted to his arm. "Don't," I managed to say before my heart sank.
His skin felt warm under my grip, so I missed the moment when it would have been appropriate to release his arm. He was already sitting back down, his eyes on my fingers as I eventually drew them back across the table toward me.
"Do you want to know what I did when I realized my wife was cheating on me?" He casually raised his hand, signaling someone behind me.
No. "Yes."
"I made sure she never forgot her mistake." He said it as if it were the only logical consequence when one is cheated on in a relationship or marriage.
"And now you’re in a position where your dates don’t show up?" I bit my tongue. Why did what I just said sound so damn sarcastic? The last thing I wanted was to drive this man away, especially when he was providing a distraction.
Despite my undertone, he laughed. "That's one way to put it. Seems like neither of us is having the best evening."
"Could be better." Although it was somewhat of an upgrade, considering whether I preferred staring at the back of my ex-boyfriend's head or the face of the handsome silver fox right in front of me.
Whenever he moved, his suit tightened in all those places that suggested he wasn't used to wearing one.
"But it could also be worse. In my case, having to continue dining alone would be a much less appealing option," he replied in an almost disgustingly optimistic tone.
"But I wasn’t planning on eating—" I swallowed the rest of my sentence as a plate appeared right under my nose.
The waiter placed it on the table in front of me, gave me a friendly smile, although I looked at him bewildered, and wished me, Bon appétit . On the other side of the table, I saw that all-too-familiar smug grin that sent a shiver down my spine.
He had not … yet he had. He had taken it upon himself to decide what I wanted to eat and had also ordered it with a simple gesture. I would have loved to complain, but I couldn't deny that it felt like he had lifted an invisible burden from my shoulders—one that I hadn't even been aware existed.
Instead of an angry remark, something else escaped my lips. "Thank you."
Immediately after, I took off my leather jacket, which was accepted by a waiter in the same instant, and I reached for the silverware.
"What would be a much worse option in my case?"
As he looked at me, small wrinkles formed around his eyes, reflecting his amusement. "A dramatic argument in the middle of the restaurant?"
With a soft noise, I agreed, although it had never been my intention to seek confrontation. "Well, this is probably the better alternative," I finally replied, my face slightly twisted.
I hated to admit it, but this attractive stranger was saving my evening. Was there an official package one could add to every breakup? Your ex cheated on you—here's your consolation prize. Enjoy.
"How long has it been since your ex-wife cheated on you?"
"Ten years. So it's not like it still affects me."
If he had been married ten years ago… Math was never my strong suit, but even I could figure out how old he must be. Not that there was a single fiber in my body that cared about a number that had no bearing on this evening. Gradually, I forgot why I had come here in the first place. This conversation was far better than making a scene with the jerk a few tables over.
"How long have you known?"
Suddenly, the food on my plate became much more interesting. Why did it feel like I was completely exposing myself to him, even though I hadn't removed a single piece of clothing?
"This afternoon."
He didn't respond, just looked at me expectantly until I couldn't stand the silence between us any longer and just kept talking.
"There was this message on his phone. I mean, not that I don't respect his privacy. I saw it out of the corner of my eye and then found condoms in his travel bag." I wrinkled my nose. "We don't need those. It's not about contraception; it's just that for months…"
I interrupted myself again. This time, however, it was because I couldn't possibly share more details about my pitiful sex life with a stranger.
"I see."
"I should just stop talking. Sorry. It's just that I've really tried, and he…"
His gaze shifted in the direction I had looked several times before. "And he's off having fun with a blonde while you sit at home alone, hoping everything somehow works itself out?" He winked at me. "Yes, that sounds all too familiar to me."
While my mind was registering his last remark, the rest of my body was still processing his charming wink.
Being the focus of his attention was definitely getting to me. I should have felt horrible. Instead, I found myself oddly enjoying this encounter.
"So, what's your plan now that you know he's actually cheating on you?"
And that snapped me right back to the present and my current situation. "I'm open to suggestions as long as they don't involve confrontation."
"How hard do you want him to be hit?"
"Who says that would affect him at all? He wouldn't have decided to cheat on me without a reason."
This time, he was the one who scrutinized me intently. His gaze traveled from my eyes to my lips, back up to my nose, and then to my hair before slipping down a fraction of a second longer. He leaned back, hands resting on his undoubtedly spread legs.
Although spontaneous combustion had been debunked a hundred times over, in that moment, I truly believed I was about to become its first real victim.
His jaw tensed before he raised an eyebrow and slightly tilted his head. "Most men are simple creatures who can't resist the slightest temptation, sneaking a treat from the candy jar while their favorite meal waits at home. I'll never understand that." He shrugged. "And if I were in his shoes, I know what I would never take my eyes off."
Something in his words made the air between us crackle. Suddenly, my mouth was not just dry but felt as parched as the Sahara itself. My ex was forgotten—let him move on with the blonde as long as I only…
Was it wrong to let myself be distracted by him this way? I was here to confirm the cheating, not to cheat myself. However, if I were still in a solid relationship, this wouldn’t be happening in the first place.
"Whatever you're thinking about right now, forget it," he warned me in his deep voice, without even knowing what was on my mind. "He's hardly worth it."
I wanted to tell him he wasn't in a position to judge, but that would have just made me look foolish. So I accepted his directive and pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind.
Just as the waiter was clearing our plates and whispering something to the man, I reached out my hand to him. Before I could even speak, both of his large hands enveloped mine. I swallowed hard. "My name is Amelia, by the way." Why was it so damn hard to say those words?
Oh, right. Because he was holding my hand as if it were a precious treasure he had just been given. Everywhere our skin touched, I felt a familiar warmth that slowly traveled up my arm, morphing into a tingling sensation. It felt as though all my muscles were quivering and twitching under the influence of tiny electrical currents, yet aside from my chest, none of my body parts were moving.
"Can I offer you some advice?"
Good lord, he could give me any advice in the world.
"You're going to walk into your shared apartment, pack up all your things, and disappear without a trace. No final message, nothing. You'll block his number, leave the city, and start over somewhere completely new. That's your plan, Amelia."
"Okay," I replied, as if hypnotized.
As if it were the answer. The only right one. The one that could make all my problems vanish into thin air.
"And where do you think I should go?"
"To a place where you can forget all this." His hand twitched as if he intended to make a gesture that encompassed both Toronto and my ex, but ultimately, it didn't move an inch.
My gaze was equally fixed; I simply couldn't tear my eyes away from his face. "You look like you have a specific place in mind," I observed.
"Yes."
"But?"
He pursed his lips. "But it wouldn't be wise to tell you where."
"Don't worry, I won't force it from you."
"That's not what I mean."
Of course not. He was talking about something else. Something that I was aware of in the back of my mind but wasn't fully comprehending because my brain was still hooked on the fact that my cheating ex-boyfriend was no more than twenty yards away. Ex-boyfriend—I must have reached that decision at some point since my arrival at the restaurant without informing him of our status update.
When the waiter reappeared, this time with dessert, he reluctantly let go of my hand. With his right hand, he reached for the spoon while he repeatedly opened and closed his left, as if embarrassed. Yet, he was the onewho hadn't let go of my hand.
"To be honest, I wouldn't even know how to disappear from the city by tomorrow," I started before plunging the spoon into my dessert.
As before, he had decided for me. Taken care of me. That afternoon, I had lost my appetite, and here I was, stuffing my face in his company, as if my years-long relationship hadn't just crumbled.
"Do you need help?"
"Do you think it's wise to trust a stranger with an offer like that?"
"If by 'stranger' you mean someone you hired through one of those apps—definitely not. There are too many fools out there you're better off not meeting."
"And you are…?"
"Not a fool? Oh, I definitely am. But one with his heart in the right place. And it would ease my mind to know that you're using me to escape your past life rather than someone else." He looked at me dead serious, yet I couldn't help but notice that his statement had many layers. It wasn't just about moving my stuff out of the apartment and disappearing without a trace.
Just as I opened my mouth, I heard the hostess shouting from the front desk behind us, "You can't just?—"
The loud clacking of high heels approached, causing me to instinctively hunch my shoulders. At that moment, I realized they had stopped right next to my chair.
I looked up to see the angry face of a woman about his age. Damn. He really needed to tell me his name.
"Just a few minutes late, you jerk, and you replaced me with… that thing ." She waved in front of my face, making me blink in confusion.
He looked at his watch. A few minutes must have been the understatement of the century.
So I leaned a bit to the side to get a better look at her. The blue sheath dress. The high heels. The expensive manicure. No, this woman was definitely not a match for the man I had just met.
"If you were really interested, you would have been on time," I said without a hint of emotion on my face. "Don't you think that would’ve been the right thing to do?"
" Excuse me ?"
"Your chance for a date with him just died. Have a nice evening."
It wasn't just my gaze that shifted to the man at the center of it all. While she seemed to expect him to put me in my place, he didn't spare her a glance. His eyes had been on me all along. And still were, causing heat to course through my body for the first time in months.
With an indignant hiss, the woman beside me stormed off.
"Seems like I owe you one for saving me from another dating disaster."
"Your name?" I replied before he could finish his sentence.
He reached out his hand, and I took it with both of mine because I could never have encompassed it otherwise. Wrinkles formed around his eyes again. This time, however, they were joined by an honest, stunning smile that would have swept me off my feet had I not been sitting. "Gray."
Everything about him was gray. His gaze. The streaks in his well-groomed beard. His hair. The jacket. Yet no color, nothing had ever looked better than on this man. Clearly, I was developing an interest, and despite the monotonous label, he shone brighter than the damn Toronto skyline through the window behind him.
The longer his hand was in mine, the more overwhelming and powerful the urge became, like something melting, to slide to the floor.
"Guess that means you're officially not a stranger anymore, Gray," I murmured, letting my thumb glide over the tattoo beneath my finger, and finally, even though it felt absolutely wrong, I let his hand go.
He breathed a sigh of relief. "Lucky me."
The empty dessert plates were between us. It was the moment when you leave the restaurant and go home. Right?
However, that would also mean returning alone to an apartment where I no longer wanted to be and…
Everything around us was forgotten. I looked up into Gray's eyes. "Since you're not a fan of those dating apps and the idiots who hang out on them… will you take me to my apartment?"
He tilted his head. "Is that all?"
Even though I knew what he was implying, I almost wished he was hinting at something else.
Slowly, I shook my head. "No. The whole thing. I can't manage it alone."
"Then consider it done." Without hesitation, he stood up, circled the table, and took my jacket, holding it out for me so I just had to stand and slip into it.
There it was again. The tingling all over my body because he did something so effortlessly that was actually far from it.
Nervously, I reached for my phone. "I should go and pay," I muttered, turning around and nearly bumping into him.
My gaze drifted higher. Further. Until I had to tilt my head back slightly to actually see his face. I had been aware that he was tall. But Gray was… massive . Not just tall but broad and sturdy. I doubted he had ever seen the inside of a gym. His build appeared like it was the result of hard, honest work.
I swallowed again, not only because his hand had supportively closed around my arm but also because he looked at me as if I had lost my mind.
"The bill has already been settled, Amelia." He spoke as if it were a simple fact and it was silly of me to expect anything else.
Perplexed, I raised both eyebrows. "Thanks?"
"Always."
What was brewing in my chest felt so intense that I wanted to pound my fists on the table to make it feel less overwhelming.
But the feeling hadn't reached its peak, I realized, when he slid his hand to the small of my back and guided me toward the elevator.
Oh shit .
This man was not only taking me out of the restaurant; he was undoubtedly leading me out of my old life.
"Still no desire to make a scene?" I heard Gray murmur darkly next to me, causing me to glance over my shoulder as his hand at my back continued to guide me.
I waited for a feeling. Any sign that told me I needed to rush and throw a punch right in the face of my ex. To do something .
But it didn't come.
I would exit his life the same way my feelings for him had faded over the last few months.
Quietly. And without leaving anything behind.