EMILIA“What’s something Whitmoore would find weird if I didn’t know that about you?”Liam walks beside me, a Mickey Mouse headband perched on his head — one I made him wear after buying it, with his own money, of course. His arms are loaded with plushies and stuffed animals, all won by me.After watching him fail miserably at winning a single prize, I got fed up, took over, and — well, let’s just say once I won one, I had to win more.It’s not my fault I can’t remember the last time I set foot in an amusement park.I wander ahead, scanning the stalls for something new to try. His question lingers in the air and I’m tempted to mention Zane’s visit.But really, that’s none of his business, I muse.I think for a second. “Nothing? I don’t think he actually knows that much about me either.”The words feel strange even as I say them.Liam’s eyebrows knit together.I mean, Zane and I were together for ten years. How can he know nothing about me?“I mean, he knows me on some level,” I clarif
EMILIAThe ride starts, and I hit the gas, aiming straight for Liam. His eyes go wide — then BAM! I crash into him, sending his car spinning.“Oh, you’re gonna regret that,” he yells, quickly recovering.I laugh, swerving just as he tries to hit me back. He misses.“That all you got, Mr. Beverage Ad Guy?”His eyes narrow. “You are so dead.”We race around the arena, bumping into each other, dodging, laughing. Kids are screaming, cars are crashing — it’s complete chaos all around us.At some point, Liam gets stuck in a corner, and I don’t waste the chance. I slam into him three times.“Are you serious?” he groans, gripping the wheel like it betrayed him.I flip my hair dramatically. “Some of us are just naturally talented, Liam.”The ride slows to a stop, and I hop out, grinning. Liam stays behind, rubbing his jaw like he’s thinking way too hard about something.“What?” I ask, raising a brow. “Sore loser? Not surprising, honestly—”“So, what would you actually want for your birthday?”
EMILIAAfter all that screaming, I’m pretty sure Liam and I are scarier than anything inside that haunted house.We stumble outside, gasping for air between fits of laughter. My heart is still racing, and I swear I can still feel the ghostly hand that grabbed my ankle.Liam runs a hand through his messy hair, shaking his head. “That was ridiculous.”I smirk and nudge him. “Says the guy who almost punched an employee.”“In my defense,” he says, completely serious, “he shouldn’t have jumped out like that. Fight or flight, and I chose fight.”I snort. “You screamed.”He glares at me, but there’s no real anger behind it. “And you clung to me like your life depended on it.”I open my mouth to argue, but he just raises an eyebrow, waiting.Ugh. I hate that he’s right.“Whatever,” I mumble, looking away. “Let’s go find something slightly less terrifying.”Liam chuckles, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he follows me. “What, like the teacups?”I roll my eyes. “You wish.”We find another p
LIAM“The people in the bushes would probably find it weird if we don’t go on the Ferris wheel, huh?” I say, keeping my voice light.Emilia hums, subtly glancing over her shoulder, but it’s obvious enough.So she didn’t notice them before.Her frown deepens, but she shrugs. “Well, I live to disappoint expectations.”I bark out a laugh. Of course she does.For a second, I reach for her hand. But at the last moment, I change course and grab her wrist instead.She’s been avoiding holding my hand all day. Not outright, just small things like pretending to adjust her bag, tucking her hair behind her ear, reaching for her phone.At first, I thought it’s the whole out of sight, out of mind thing.If she doesn’t hold my hand, maybe she can pretend these last two weeks didn’t happen. Maybe she can even pretend that I was there. I didn’t have the right to feel weird about it.At the restaurant, I caught a glimpse of her arm.The scratches weren’t obvious at first, not against her light brown sk
EMILIA We spend the rest of the day trying out different rides. After much persuasion — more like straight-up bullying — Liam drags me onto the rollercoaster. And after I promptly throw up everything I’ve eaten today, he tries to make up for it by taking me on the teacups. Not exactly the apology I had in mind, but at least I don’t feel like I’m dying. Hours pass in a blur of flashing lights, laughter, and the kind of fun that makes you forget why you were even here in the first place. No thoughts of the press, no contract hanging over my head — just this. By the time Liam pulls up in front of Tessa’s place, I’m exhausted but weirdly content. I unbuckle my seatbelt and hop out of the car, only to realize he isn’t following. I turn back, finding him still sitting behind the wheel, looking… confused? “Why aren’t you coming?” I ask, waving him over. He runs a hand through his already messy hair before finally unbuckling. "I don’t know, kinda feels like I’m being left behind after be
ZANEThe unread messages started piling up the night I left for Chicago.I clench my fist around my phone, trying to steady my breathing as my feet pound against the treadmill. The steady hum of the machine does nothing to quiet the frustration building up inside me.I’m in the indoor gym in our house. Emilia researched the brands — only filling the house with the best of the best — of all the equipment and decorated the gym meticulously according to my tastes. Hell, she’d decorated our entire house.Hmph. Well, I guess it’s just my house now.The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. The house feels emptier, quieter—like something’s missing. But I shove that feeling down, focusing on the burn in my legs instead. It’s better this way. It has to be.The week Emilia moved out, Bec moved in.It was easier that way. Having someone who understood what it was like to always be in the spotlight. Someone who got the pressure, the expectations, the constant need to be at your best. We cou
EMILIAI miss when rush hour only happens at noon.Ever since Liam decided my bakery was his new favourite playground, business has been nonstop. He waltzed in one day, threw on an apron, and announced he was going to learn how to bake. And just like that, rush hour became every hour.Apparently, no one on earth can resist the sight of Liam Calloway covered in flour. And honestly? I get it.I won’t lie — the extra attention has been great for business. I’ve made more money in the past few weeks than I have in my entire life and I’m not even exaggerating. But it also means I’m constantly on my feet, barely catching a break.And Liam? He’s loving every second of it.Especially since it also means I barely have a second to breathe. I’ve come to realise Liam relishes in my suffering.Right now, the line stretches out the door, and I’m pretty sure half these people don’t even care about the pastries. They just want to snap a picture of Liam rolling dough or pretend to be interested so they
EMILIAI don’t know how to explain the feeling in my chest. I don’t even know why I can’t explain it. So, I don’t try. I just drink my juice and pretend to be very, very interested in the flavour.Liam watches me, then grimaces. “I swear I’m not some creepy stalker if that’s what you’re thinking.”He rubs the back of his neck. “There’s always empty strawberry containers in the fridge. And, uh… you eat them with melted chocolate, right? Because whenever I throw them out, the containers always have little chocolate stains.”I blink. I never even realised Liam was the one tossing out my empty strawberry containers.I mean… I always figured once I finished them and shoved the pack back into the fridge, it would eventually disappear. Somehow.Also who actually notices stuff like that? He saw a few empty containers, some chocolate stains, and just knew what I liked? Isn’t that too small of a detail to pick up on?I just nod and take another sip of my juice, humming in appreciation. It reall
EMILIALiam has been gone longer than I expected.I frown. Didn’t he just go to get the door? It shouldn’t take this long.I try not to let my mind spiral, but it’s hard when everything seems to be crashing down around me.First, Stone and all the memories he dragged back into my life. Now, this — my family’s name, plastered across the internet like a headline in some twisted fairy tale.I force myself to move. I slip into the bathroom, letting the hot water run over me, washing away the weight in my chest. I focus on breathing, on standing still, on the small victory of not collapsing under the pressure of everything that’s gone wrong.I try not to think about the last time I spoke to my family.My mother’s voice, sharp and unrelenting. My father’s heavy silence, his disappointment louder than any words he could have said. My younger sister’s glare, filled with a resentment I fully understand.I shut my eyes. Think of the good things, Em. Don’t drown in everything that’s happened.By
BECCASometimes, I wonder why I even try.A year and a half ago, I stared down at those two pink lines, my hands shaking, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst. I was finally going to be a mother. Just like I’d always dreamed of.But dreams are funny things, aren’t they?Because the reality was nothing like the fairytale I’d imagined.The father of my baby — the man I loved — wasn't the man I thought he was. He hadn’t just broken up with his girlfriend of ten years like he’d claimed. No, he was still with her. Still choosing her.But he had an excuse, of course. She’s fragile, he told me. If I leave too soon, she might do something to herself. Just be patient, Becca. Just wait.So I did.I counted the days, the weeks, the months, waiting for the moment he’d finally be mine.But when my belly grew and my career stalled, when I had to disappear from the world to hide my pregnancy — where was he then?Not with me.I gave up job offers. I went on a year-long hiatus. I spent m
LIAMIs this what people mean by saved by the bell?Because in no universe do I want to talk about what Jess means to me right now. Not with Emilia. Not when I can’t even explain the dark, ugly feeling that sank its claws into my chest the second I saw that headline. The second Emilia broke down in my arms.Like there wasn’t a damn thing I wouldn’t do to make whoever wrote that article pay.And they will pay. Even if it’s the last thing I do.I push off the bed and grab the chocolate-stained containers from Emilia’s hands. I can’t help but smirk. She eats like a chipmunk, cheeks puffed, a little smear of chocolate at the corner of her mouth. The sight makes something tight in my chest loosen just a little.Knock. Knock.The sound cuts through the room. Again. I can already feel a headache coming. Hopefully, the intruder will realise they’re really not wanted and turn back around or whatever.I sigh. “How about you go wash up? I’ll get the door.”She nods, looking almost relieved that
Who’s real? Who’s not? Emilia Janice Carter, the poor bakery owner, or Emily Margaux Vanderbilt, the estranged daughter of billionaire couple Genevieve and Andrew Vanderbilt?The headline loops in my mind, over and over, like a bad dream I can’t wake up from.My stomach twists violently, and I hunch over the toilet, retching.Liam is right beside me, one hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on my back, the other holding my hair away from my face. His touch is steady and reassuring, but I can hear the worry in his voice.“Breathe, love. Just breathe.”I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t breathe.Because it’s out now.The truth.The secret I’ve spent years protecting.Exposed for the whole world to see.Liam helps me up and I stand in front of the mirror, leaning onto the sink for support. I open the tap, rinse my mouth and face. My movements are automated and I can vaguely feel Liam let go of me.Then I hear the sound of the toilet flush.My chest tightens.The air feels too thick, too heav
I stare at the bed.The one bed.The undeniably soft, luxurious, way-too-small-for-this-situation bed.But it’s still just one bed.I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.Logically, I should have expected this. It makes no sense for them to give us separate beds, but my cheeks still heat up at the thought of…Of…Sharing a bed with Liam.No matter how natural and easy things have felt between us, it doesn’t change the fact that this relationship is fake. Just words on paper. A contract.So why does that thought make my stomach twist in a way I can’t explain?Liam, of course, is completely unbothered. He scans the room, taking in the luxury like he actually expected something worse. Then, to my absolute horror, he leans against the doorway, grinning like this is the funniest thing to ever happen.“They really went all out, huh?” He chuckles. “Maybe we should send them a thank-you card. This surpassed my every expectation.”I gape at him. We are not thinking about the same thing right no
EMILIA Evening comes around faster than I expect, and to my absolute horror, Liam and I are forced to drag ourselves to the deck for some grand announcement from the soon-to-be-weds. I feel like I’ve said this a million times, but the cruise is massive — so big that the thirty-something guests on board feel like a drop in the ocean. Either they’re too busy lounging in their luxury suites, avoiding Liam and me, or this ship is just that enormous, because after running into Stone, we don’t see a single familiar face. Not that I’m complaining. Liam’s hand is warm in mine as we make our way to the deck, his thumb tracing idle circles against my skin like he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. I don’t know if it’s meant to be comforting or if he just likes touching me, but either way, it’s convincing enough. My heart shouldn’t be beating this fast from something so simple. “Remind me again why we’re going to this thing?” I mumble, leaning into him slightly. “Because we’re technical
I don’t realize I’m shaking until Liam gently rubs his thumb over my knuckles. The anger, the fire — I felt invincible a second ago, but now? Now, my hands feel ice cold.“You okay?” Liam asks, voice low.I nod. Then I lie. “Yeah.”But when he tugs me closer, when I feel the warmth of him against me, something cracks deep inside my chest.It’s not just the name-calling. It’s not just being labeled the hockey slut or called a puck bunny. It’s the way that’s all I’ve ever been treated like.Wanting to stay by Zane’s side turned into years of watching my autonomy slip through my fingers, piece by piece. And I let it happen — because I was so convinced that the ring on my finger, his last name next to mine, would make it all worth it. That losing myself would somehow be worth it.I didn’t want to be just Zane’s pocket girlfriend, always by his side, on every plane to his games, tucked away in every hotel room in case he needed a release.It was so fucking exhausting.Pretending to hate gi
The staff takes care of our luggage, wheeling it away toward the cabins. But since they’re off-limits until midnight, Liam and I are left with nothing to do. It doesn’t take much to convince me to go exploring with him, so we run off the second we can and leave Becca and Zane to their own world. I thought the ship was massive when I first stepped on, but now, as I take it all in, I realize I underestimated just how big it really is. It’s gorgeous, but also overwhelming. Like a city floating on water. There are three floors above the one we’re currently walking through, and if the rest of the ship looks anything like this, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. We’re at the atrium now, and it’s breathtaking. A massive glass dome stretches above us, letting the last bits of sunlight pour through. There’s a grand staircase in the center, wide and elegant, leading to the upper decks. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting a golden glow over everything. Soft music plays in the back
EMILIA He’s standing near the entrance, laughing at something one of his friends said. Becca is tucked into his side, she’s practically glowing with happiness. Her smile is so breathtaking it knocks the breath out of my lungs.She looks beautiful, but for once, that painful knot of jealousy in my chest that grows around a beautiful woman doesn’t come. Not even a little.Not like it used to.I think back on how insecure I used to be around Tessa. Sometimes it’s hard not to be, but I don’t find myself comparing my every flaw to her perfections anymore.Or maybe it’s because I tossed out the maternity gowns Zane loved to stuff me into and finally started doing what I want. Wearing clothes I like, putting on makeup because I want to.A smile tugs at my lips.But before it can fully form, Zane looks up.And freezes.I can see shock take over him like a bucket of ice-cold water dumped over his head. He looks at me from head to toe, like he can’t quite trust his eyes.It must be horrible, k