I met her provocative gaze and let a mocking smile spread across my face.
"You really are something special." I tilted my head. "A woman with your talent for climbing into men's beds—hard to find, even in Havenport."
Sophie's expression shifted instantly, her eyes reddening on cue. "Andrew, look at her..." Her voice trembled. "I was kind enough to offer Elena a ride, and she doesn't just refuse—she humiliates me like this."
Andrew James, who'd been leaning against the car smoking and eyeing me up and down, went cold. "Elena Fox, let me make this clear one more time." He flicked ash off his cigarette. "Sophie isn't a mistress. You and I were already over. She just happened to walk into my life." He paused for effect. "She's my true love."
The same rehearsed script. I ducked my head and laughed softly. "Say whatever you want. It doesn't matter anymore."
I waved the divorce certificate in my hand. "Andrew, you're the one who said I trapped you. Well, here's your freedom. So why are you still here? Get lost."
Sophie slipped back into her wounded-dove act, eyes glistening like she might cry. "Elena, I've always looked up to you like an older sister. I've respected you so much. Even if you and Andrew are divorced, you could still be friends. Why make things so ugly?"
I snorted.
How Andrew and I ended up here—this homewrecker knew better than anyone. And she still had the nerve to stand in front of me, playing the victim, batting those innocent eyes.
I wasn't buying it.
"Sophie Quinn." My voice dropped. "If you show your face in front of me again, I'll make it much uglier."
Rage flared in Andrew's eyes. He slammed the car door so hard the bang echoed down the street. "Sophie, forget her. She doesn't know kindness when she sees it—treats our goodwill like garbage. We don't need to play the nice guys anymore."
He wrapped his arm around Sophie, climbed into the car, and drove off.
I stood there, motionless, watching until their taillights disappeared.
Then—
"Elena, why are your eyes red?"
I turned.
Luke Baxter. My childhood friend who'd chased me for ten years. The boy next door I'd trusted since I was small. For the entire five years of my marriage, he'd kept his distance, afraid rumors might hurt me.
Only now did he appear again.
"Did that bastard Andrew bully you again?" His jaw tightened. "Did he hit you?"
He wore a black trench coat, his frame lean but solid—the kind of presence that made you feel safe just standing near him.
"Luke."
My eyes stung harder, but I forced a smile and held up the divorce certificate. "Look. I'm free."
I exhaled slowly. "I should've listened to you years ago. Andrew James was never the right choice." My voice cracked. "If I'd listened sooner, I wouldn't have wasted five years."
Something flickered across Luke's face—pain, maybe—and he pulled me into his arms.
"Elena, do you have any idea how I survived these five years?" His voice was low, rough. "I kept hoping you'd lose. And hoping you'd win."
My gaze dropped. I closed my eyes and let myself sink into his warmth.
Five years. I'd lost. Completely.
This time, I was truly done.
Andrew had no idea that five years ago, marrying him had nearly destroyed everything between Luke and me.
Luke had tried everything to stop the wedding. He swore Andrew would never be a good match. And I'd fought him like a woman possessed—desperate to break free of his hold on me.
We'd pushed each other to the breaking point. And finally, exhausted, Luke made me a bet.
"You say he's your true love? Fine." His eyes had been hollow. "I'll give you the chance to prove it."
