Jon leaned against the doorframe, his breath sharp with alcohol, eyes glassy but intent.
“You don’t have to pretend, Holly,” he slurred, stepping closer. “I know you still feel something. Playing hard to get—it’s what you do.”
Holly’s pulse quickened, but her voice stayed firm. “Jon, stop. I’m not playing anything. I’m happy with Lee. He’s the man I love.”
Jon’s laugh was hollow, bitter. “Happy? With him? Come on. You and me—we had fire. You can’t tell me you don’t miss it.”
Her jaw tightened, anger cutting through her fear. “Fire? You mean lies. You cheated, Jon. You broke every promise you ever made. Even if Lee wasn’t in my life, I would never go back to that. Never.”
Jon’s expression twisted, disbelief clouding his drunken gaze. “You don’t mean that. You’re just saying it because
