My Mother's Fiance Was My Ex

Sarah's 20 and Her ex-boyfriend is Ryker and he's 33. After two months of separation, Sarah moved on. Sarah's mom. who is getting married, invited Sarah and Ryker her fiance for a dinner. When Sarah arrived, Sarah was shocked to see her ex-boyfriend, Ryker, with Her mom. Ryker smirked, and Sarah was greeted and hugged by her mom. "We met again, sweetheart" Ryker said as he kissed Sarah's hand. Sarah pulled her hand away in disgust. Ryker's smirk didn't falter when Sarah pulled her hand away. If anything, his eyes darkened with a flicker of amusement, watching her reaction like a predator observing a particularly interesting prey. He slowly lowered his hand, fingers curling loosely as he maintained intense eye contact. "Don't be like that, Sarah," he said, his voice smooth and low. "It's rude to reject a man's greeting." Sarah's mother, Elena, laughed nervously, stepping between them and placing a hand on Sarah's arm. "Oh, come on, sweetie. Don't be dramatic. Ryker is going to be your new stepdad! Isn't that wonderful?" Ryker tilted his head, his gaze sliding from Elena back to Sarah. "Stepdad. That has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" "whatever", Sarah rolls her eyes. Ryker let out a short, dry chuckle, the sound barely reaching his eyes. He leaned back against the dining table, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement pulled the fabric of his shirt tight across his shoulders. "Whatever," he repeated, tasting the word. "You always did have a way with words, Sarah." Elena clapped her hands together, clearly trying to bridge the awkward tension. "Now, now. Let's all sit down. The food is getting cold, and I made that roast you love, Sarah." "I'm sure Ryker's a great cook too, dear," Elena added, beaming at him. Ryker pushed off the table and pulled out a chair, his eyes never leaving Sarah as she moved toward the table. "I'll do my best to impress her," he said, his tone laced with something that sounded dangerously like a promise. The dining room was filled with the warm aroma of roasted meat and herbs, but for Sarah, the air felt thick and suffocating. Elena busied herself at the head of the table, ladling out portions with an eager smile that suggested she was completely oblivious to the electric tension vibrating between her daughter and her fiancé. "Sit, sit!" Elena urged, gesturing to the chairs. Ryker slid into his seat directly across from Sarah. He didn't look at the food. He didn't look at Elena. His gaze settled on Sarah, steady and unblinking, as if he were cataloging every change in her face since the last time he'd seen her. "You've lost weight," Ryker remarked casually, picking up his wine glass. He took a slow sip, his eyes tracking her over the rim. "You look tired. Not sleeping well?" Elena beamed, placing a hand on Ryker's shoulder. "that's none of your business", Says Sarah. Ryker's eyebrows rose slightly, a slow grin spreading across his face. He set the wine glass down with a deliberate click against the tablecloth. "None of my business?" He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. The movement brought him closer to Sarah, his presence suddenly more imposing. "Funny. I seem to remember a time when you couldn't keep a single secret from me." Elena, oblivious to the sharp edge in his voice, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Ryker, don't tease her. She's had a busy few months." "I'm not teasing, Elena," Ryker said, his tone dropping an octave. He kept his eyes locked on Sarah's. "I'm just making conversation. Since we're going to be family now, it's important we get reacquainted, right?" Sarah got up and left, "Sorry mom I don't want to eat anymore". Elena's face fell, her mouth dropping open in surprise. "Sarah? Sweetie, where are you going? Dinner's just starting!" Ryker didn't move. He watched Sarah's retreating figure with the same unblinking intensity, his fingers drumming once, twice, against the tablecloth. He didn't look bothered by her exit; if anything, he looked satisfied. "Let her go, Elena," Ryker said smoothly, picking up his fork and turning his attention to the roast. "She's just being dramatic. She'll come back when she's hungry." "But she was so upset," Elena murmured, her brow furrowing with worry as she glanced between the empty chair and her fiancé. "She's fine," Ryker replied, cutting a piece of meat with precise, controlled movements. He looked up at Elena, his expression softening into something convincingly warm. Sarah went back home. The drive home was quiet, the streetlights blurring past in long streaks of amber. Sarah's apartment felt different tonight—smaller, colder, as if the presence of Ryker had somehow bled through the distance and contaminated the space she had tried so hard to build for herself. She barely had time to kick off her shoes before her phone buzzed on the entryway table. A text message. No name attached, but she knew the number by heart. You forgot something at dinner, Sarah. A second later, another message followed. And you didn't even say goodbye properly. That's unlike you. "Stay the hell away from me", Sarah typed back. The reply came almost instantly. Is that a request or a command? Because you know I don't take orders very well. Then, a photo. It was a picture of the dining table from earlier, taken from his perspective. His wine glass was in the foreground, and Sarah's empty chair was visible just behind it. You left in such a rush, you didn't even notice I took this. A third message followed. I'll see you soon, Sarah. We have a lot to catch up on. Sarah blocks Ryker's number. The silence that followed was heavy. Sarah stared at the screen for a long moment, her thumb hovering over the block button before finally pressing it. The message thread vanished, replaced by the sterile blankness of a blocked contact. She tossed the phone onto the sofa and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water to steady her hands. Her heart was hammering against her ribs. It wasn't fear—not exactly. It was that familiar, suffocating feeling of being watched, even when she was alone in her own apartment. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. She sat on the edge of her bed, the walls of her bedroom feeling thin, as if anyone could hear her breathing. She tried to convince herself she was being paranoid. He was busy with her mother. He was planning a wedding. He had no reason to bother her. A soft thud came from the front door. "who's it..?" The silence stretched for a heartbeat too long before a voice drifted through the wood of the door. It was low, familiar, and carried that same infuriatingly calm cadence that always made Sarah's skin prickle. "It's just me, Sarah." Ryker. There was no knocking now, just the sound of him leaning his weight against the door frame. He didn't sound like he was trying to break in; he sounded like he was waiting for her to realize he was already there. "I noticed you didn't answer my last text," he said, his voice muffled but clear through the door. "I figured I'd come by and see if you were alright. You seemed a little... unsettled at dinner." A pause. "Open the door, Sarah. It's cold out here." "Go away, you're not welcome here". says Sarah. Ryker let out a short, dry laugh from behind the door. "Not welcome? We're going to be family, remember? That makes me family. And family doesn't need an invitation." His voice dropped, losing some of its performative warmth. "You blocked my number. That was a little dramatic, even for you." He shifted his weight, and Sarah could hear the rustle of his jacket against the wood. "I'm not leaving, Sarah. Not until we talk. You can stay in there and pretend I don't exist if you want, but I'm staying right here." A beat of silence followed. Then, his voice came again, quieter this time, closer to the door. "You know I always get what I want. And right now, I want to talk to you."