His Initial on Her Replacement

The first time my mom told me about the arranged date, Finn Wilder was bent over me, tracing lines onto my skin. The buzz of the tattoo gun was the only sound between us. He pulled me closer, our bodies pressed tight.

After a dizzying blur of passion, he carried me into the bathroom. The warm water washed over my skin, but his words sent a chill through my body, as if I’d been plunged into an ice cellar.

"Go home. And don't come looking for me here again."

I thought he’d seen the text and was jealous. I threw my arms around his neck, my voice a desperate whisper. "I'm not going, I swear. I won't see anyone else—"

The smile on his lips didn't fade, but the heat in his eyes cooled, growing distant.

"But I'm getting back together with her."

He brushed aside my messy hair, ignoring the way my body trembled at his touch.

"My fiancée is elegant and pure—everything you're not. She would never debase herself by clinging to her own foster brother in a tattoo studio. We've already set a wedding date. If you keep this up, she'll be unhappy."

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1

Finn Wilder grabbed a bath towel, wrapped it around his waist, and carried me to the guest bedroom.

As his tall frame vanished through the doorway, a chilling finality washed over me.

I was still staring blankly at the door when he returned.

Finn sat on the edge of the bed, and his familiar warmth surrounded me again.

I instinctively reached for him.

Instead, he pressed a cold phone into my palm.

"Mom already messaged you. You should go. Let's not drag this out."

Panicked, I grasped his hand, pleading softly, "Finn, I won't do it."

"Juliet is back."

The name stole the air from my lungs. Tears streamed silently down my face.

Juliet Vaughn was Finn's first love.

When she suddenly left for overseas, Finn was devastated. He spiraled for months, even smashing his most beloved guitar.

Seeing him so broken finally gave me the courage to confess.

From then on, we were loving foster siblings by day and hopelessly entangled lovers by night.

More than once, I'd rejoiced, thanking God that Juliet was gone.

I never imagined someone who had left so decisively would ever come back.

Finn stood up, looking down at me.

"Stay away from the area around her new coffee shop. I don't want her to see you and get upset."

His gaze on me was glacial, but when he spoke of Juliet, his voice softened with a tenderness he had never offered me.

Tears streamed down my face. I snatched my dress from the floor, pulled it on, and stumbled toward the door, desperate to escape.

Just as I reached for the knob, Finn's indifferent voice cut through the air behind me.

"So, Cora. I hear congratulations are in order... for both of us."

My heart seized in my chest.

Once, I would have given anything to hear him talk about our future.

I just never imagined it would be when he was marrying someone else, and I was being sold off to another man.

After shooting a quick reply to my mom, I started to pack.

My eyes fell on a photo of Finn and me, and the memories flooded back, warm and sharp. The tears I’d been holding back finally broke free.

Finn was five years older than me.

I had watched him fall in love with Juliet, argue with her, and ultimately, lose her.

He was in so much pain, drinking himself into a stupor night after night.

My heart ached for him.

It was then that I realized my feelings for him ran much deeper than a sister's love.

I did everything I could to make him smile. He never really did, but through his own haze of pain, he'd still try to comfort me.

"I'm fine, Cora. Don't worry."

I loved his gentleness, but I was greedy for more.

Until one night, when he was drunk again, I gathered all my courage and pressed my lips to his.

That night was agonizing—and exhilarating.

But the next morning, I woke to find him kneeling on the floor, his eyes bloodshot.

When he saw I was awake, his expression twisted with a mix of disgust and self-loathing.

"Cora, how could you be so disgusting?"

He hurled the cruelest words at me, telling me he never wanted to see me again.

I fled the house and spent the night wandering in the pouring rain.