She walked in dressed in emerald—unaware that the past was waiting in the room.
—-
Alex’s POV
You know that feeling when regret doesn't just knock, it tears through your chest like shrapnel?
That’s what’s happening to me now.
Not guilt—rage.
Rage at myself. For being too composed. For not breaking Martin’s f*****g jaw the moment he looked at her like that.
I should’ve crushed his wrist the second he reached for what’s mine.
Made him bleed regret. Made him wish he’d never looked at Lily with anything more than passing indifference.
Because he knew.
He knew she was mine. My wife. My storm. My ruin.
But now?
Now he acts like he’s been in love with her since birth. Like I’m just some placeholder in his grand, delusional love story.
It makes me sick.
And the worst part?
I saw it
