Chapter 3 Stay With Me

Eva's POV

I stare at my empty finger, my chest tightening until it hurts. The skin where my ring used to be feels colder than the rest of me.

My throat tightens. For the first time all night, I realize, I don't belong to Stephan anymore.

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. My throat burns, and all I can do is look away before the tears spill.

Micah's jaw flexes. "Come on. What movie did you want to see?"

I shrug and wipe under my eyes. "Anything."

He doesn't argue. Instead, he takes my bag and rests a hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward a chair.

"Sit here," he says quietly. "I'll be right back."

I nod, too drained to fight him. People are still staring, and it makes me feel even smaller. I take out my phone, hoping to distract myself, but when I check my accounts, every single one is frozen.

My stomach sinks. He actually did it.

A shaky breath leaves me. My eyes sting again, but before I can cry, Micah is back with two movie tickets and a huge bowl of popcorn.

"SpongeBob?" He raises a brow, teasing.

A small, broken smile tugs at my lips. "Really?"

"Hey, I know you love it," he says, handing me the popcorn.

We walk side by side toward the theater.

When we step inside, I stop short. "Wait, where is everyone?"

Micah sinks into a seat in the third row. "I figured you could use some privacy."

My eyes widen. "You didn't...buy the whole theater, did you?"

"The movie's starting," he says, patting the seat beside him. "Come on, I know you won't admit it, but SpongeBob cheers you up."

I sigh but sit anyway. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're smiling again," he murmurs.

The lights dim completely. The screen flashes yellow, and for a while, it's easy to forget everything. The sound of the movie fills the space between us. I even laugh once, really laugh until his fingers brush mine inside the popcorn bowl.

The laughter dies.

My gaze flicks to him, but he's already looking at me.

"What?" I ask, rubbing my cheek self-consciously. "Do I have something on my face?"

He grins a little. "Yeah. Right there."

He reaches for a napkin and gently brushes at my cheek, his large hand cupping my face. His fingers are warm and something inside me trembles. My breath catches.

It's been so long since anyone touched me with tenderness.

I don't pull away.

"What happened, Eva?" he asks quietly.

I blink, pulling back a little. "What?"

"With you and Stephan."

A hard lump forms in my throat. "We're...getting a divorce."

His brows rise. "He served you?"

I shake my head. "No. I did."

Micah tilts his head, surprise flashing across his features. "You finally left him."

"I know you both don't like each other," I murmur. "But he's not all bad. Life just... happened."

And I still love him. Even now, that bitter truth stings.

He scoffs quietly. "Love didn't run out, Eva. Respect did. That man never deserved you."

I look away. "You don't know everything."

"I know enough," he says. "He's freezing your accounts and letting you suffer while he plays the victim."

I exhale sharply. "Micah, please. I don't want to talk about him anymore."

"Then tell me this, where are you staying?"

I'll be fine." I force a small smile. "I'll find a hotel."

"Eva." His tone leaves no room for argument. "Tell me."

"Micah, please..."

"I'm not dropping it." His voice softens, but his eyes are firm.

Heat creeps up my neck. "A cheap hotel, okay? I have some cash left."

He sighs and glances down at my bare hand. His thumb brushes the pale mark where my ring used to be. "Your account is frozen, love. You don't even have enough for a meal."

I swallow hard. "Then I'll start applying for jobs tomorrow."

"Stay with me," he says suddenly.

I freeze. "What?"

"I have a huge house all to myself. You can stay there until you figure things out. I'll even give you a job at my company."

I shake my head. "No, Micah. If this hits the press-"

"You don't have to decide now," he interrupts softly. "Just let me take you home tonight. Let me help you."

"I shouldn't-"

"Shush." His fingers find my chin, tilting my face toward him. "Let me cook for you. Run you a bath. You can leave after if you want."

Micah's gaze is steady, kind, and dangerously gentle. It's the kind of look that makes a woman forget every reason she should run.

He's gorgeous. The sharp cut of his jaw, the warmth in his brown hair under the soft light.

"I don't know," I whisper, heart hammering.

He smiles faintly. "You're scared of being alone with me."

My lips part. "N-no."

His eyes flicker down to my mouth. "Then relax. I'm only going to make sure you're okay."

I want to believe him. I really do. But something in his voice makes my pulse skip.

"Okay," I breathe. "But I'm not staying the night."

"Of course." His smile deepens.

–

An hour later, the credits roll. Micah stands, grabs my bag, and offers his hand. I let him pull me up.

The night air is cool when we step outside. His driver opens the door.

"Evening, sir. Ma'am."

Micah nods, guiding me inside. The leather smells faintly of mint and cologne.

For a while, we're both silent. He's scrolling through his phone; I'm staring out the window, pretending not to hope for a text that will never come.

My phone is still empty. No messages. No missed calls.

Typical Stephan.

A warm hand suddenly rests on my thigh, and I flinch.

"Hey," Micah says softly. "You're shaking."

"I'm fine," I lie, but my voice betrays me.

He doesn't move his hand. His thumb brushes against my skin, slow and deliberate, and I can barely breathe.

His hands are big, veins running like rivers beneath his skin.

Without thinking, I trace one with my fingertip.

He inhales sharply. "Eva."

The sound of my name on his lips sends a shiver down my spine. I jerk my hand away. "Sorry."

What am I doing? My husband's betrayal still stings, yet here I am, craving the warmth of another man.

Silence stretches between us, thick and charged. When the car stops in front of his house, the driver offers a quiet goodnight and disappears inside.

Neither of us moves.

Micah's fingers brush against my knee, then trail slowly down to my ankle. My skin prickles, goosebumps rising.

"Your eyes," he murmurs, voice rough. "They're saying something."

I gulp. "I-I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do." His gaze darkens, burning through me. "Tell me, Eva. What do you want?"

My pulse pounds in my ears. The air between us feels too hot.

I want to deny it, to pull away. But when he leans closer, his breath fanning my lips, all the broken pieces inside me melt into longing.

"Look at me," he says.

I do, and almost forget how to breathe. His eyes are molten, filled with something I haven't felt in years. Desire.

"I need..." My voice breaks.

"Need what?" he asks, his breath brushing against my mouth.

Tears sting my eyes as the words tumble out. "I need to forget," I whisper. "Just for a bit."