Dumped and Divorced, Renew to be Exclusive

Chapter 12

Liora

Gina returns with a flourish, balancing three drinks in her hands like a circus performer. “Alright! Round two, my beautiful disasters!” she declares, nearly sloshing one onto Robert.

The energy in the room lifts instantly, tension dissolving into the warm haze of music and low laughter. The others drift back, reclaiming their seats, and soon we’re absorbed in another game some hybrid of cards, dares, and pure chaos that only Gina seems to understand.

With Ezra here, watching from across the table, I feel oddly safer. Less self-conscious. Less like the world is about to tilt out from under me.

Maybe too safe.

Because when Gina throws down a winning hand with a dramatic flourish, I already know I’m doomed.

“Liora!” she squeals, pointing at me with mock severity. “Loser!”

I groan dramatically. “This game is rigged.”

“It absolutely is,” Robert agrees, sipping his drink with a grin. “But that’s the fun.”

Gina slides a shot glass toward me with a flourish. “Your punishment, my dear.”

It’s a deep amber liquor, strong, sharp-smelling, the kind that makes your throat burn and your regrets surface.

I brace myself.

But before my fingers even reach the glass, a hand appears in front of mine.

Ezra.

He takes the glass, the motion smooth, almost bored. “She’s not drinking this.”

I blink. “Ezra, I can drink one shot—”

He ignores me entirely, lifts the glass to his mouth, and downs it in one slow swallow. His jaw flexes slightly as he sets the empty glass back on the table.

The room goes silent for a beat.

Then Gina bursts into delighted laughter. “Oh. My. God. Is this real? Ezra Reeve, billionaire ice king, body-blocking alcohol for a woman?”

Robert lets out a low whistle. “Man, I’ve known you for ten years. Never seen you do that.”

Ezra shrugs, but his eyes flick to mine, dark and unreadable. “It was too strong for her.”

My stomach does something traitorous, tightening in a way I wish I could blame on the alcohol.

“That’s cheating,” Gina says, pointing at him dramatically. “But also I approve.”

The games continue louder now, sillier, Gina leaning into Robert’s shoulder every time she laughs, Robert teasing her right back. The group is warm, familiar, like slipping into a circle I didn’t know I’d been missing.

And with Ezra beside us, quieter but present, the air feels different. Charged but safe.

Eventually, the cards give way to a trivia-style game Robert swears he invented in college. Gina is ruthless. I am terrible. Ezra helps me subtly, pointing at cards or mouthing answers when no one is looking.

We all end up laughing so hard at one point that I nearly spill my drink.

By the time the night winds down, the room is glowing with soft amber light, and even the air feels warm.

Robert stands, stretching. “Alright, ladies. One last round before we call it.”

Gina cheers. “Punishments included!”

My fate is sealed.

Of course, I lose.

Again.

Gina giggles, already reaching for the bottle. “Shot for Liora!”

Ezra moves.

Again.

This time, when his hand covers the glass, he doesn’t even pretend it’s casual. “No.”

“Ezra!” I protest, laughing a little. “You can’t keep drinking for me.”

“Yes,” he says calmly, “I can.”

He takes the full glass, lifts it, and drinks half then stops, offering me the rest.

“Just a sip,” he says quietly. “You don’t have to prove anything.”

His voice is soft enough that only I hear it.

Slow, steady, reassuring.

My chest tightens again, painfully, embarrassingly.

I take the glass from him and sip, the liquid warm and sweet, barely enough to burn. He watches me closely carefully before nodding in approval and finishing the rest.

Gina fans herself dramatically. “Okay, someone get me ice because I think Ezra Reeve just became everyone’s new fantasy boyfriend.”

Ezra clears his throat. “Alright, that’s enough for tonight.”

But his ears are slightly pink.

And I’m not sure I’m breathing properly.

The bar starts clearing around us, the other groups leaving one by one. Robert eventually pulls out his phone, checking the time.

“We should head out,” he says. “I’ve got an early meeting.”

Gina groans, throwing her head back. “Boooo. Responsibility.”

Ezra stands, retrieving his coat from the back of the chair. “Come on. I’ll call a car.”

“We can get an Uber,” I protest.

“I’m calling a car,” he repeats simply, like the matter isn’t up for discussion.

Gina whispers loudly to me, “Controlling, but hot. I get it.”

I elbow her, mortified, but Ezra only pretends not to hear.

He steps outside with us, the cool night air brushing over my arms. He stands just close enough that if I tilted my shoulder an inch, I’d touch him.

Robert says his goodbyes first, clapping Ezra on the back and winking at Gina, who nearly melts into the concrete. Then he leaves in a sleek black sedan.

It’s just the three of us now, waiting under the glowing streetlight.

A car pulls up minutes later.

Ezra opens the back door for us. “Get in.”

Gina jumps inside with a cheerful salute. “Yes, boss!”

I roll my eyes but follow her, settling into the seat.

Ezra doesn’t leave immediately. He takes a step back, hands in his coat pockets, watching the car.

Watching us.

When the door closes, Gina looks out the window and whispers, “Holy hell. He’s waiting until we go inside, isn’t he?”

“He always does that,” I say softly.

“Liora.” She turns to me slowly, eyes widening. “He likes you.”

“No,” I say immediately, too fast.

“Yes,” she insists. “Have you seen him tonight? Protecting you? Hovering? Drinking for you like some brooding knight in a suit?”

I stare at my hands, fingers tangled together.

“He’s just being nice.”

“Men like him aren’t ‘just nice,’” she says. “Trust me. I’ve worked here long enough. He doesn’t give that energy to anyone.”

My chest tightens, an ache forming somewhere deep and unwelcome.

“I don’t know what he feels,” I admit quietly. “But I know I shouldn’t read into it.”

Gina leans her head against the seat, sighing dramatically. “Well, whether you read into it or not, he’s into you. I’ve never seen Ezra Reeve be gentle. With anyone.”

The words linger long after the car pulls away.

When we arrive at her apartment building, I glance back through the rear window. Ezra is still on the sidewalk, watching, making sure we get inside safely.

He only turns away when the door closes behind us.

That night, Gina goes straight to bed; she's half-drunk, half-exhausted, and mumbling about Robert’s shoulders.

I shower, change into a soft shirt, and slip into the guest bed.

But sleep doesn’t come.

Not for a long time.

Instead, the past drifts in slowly, like fog creeping under a door.

Ezra. The library. The quiet halls at school. The way I used to watch him from across the courtyard not stalking, not obsessing, just… admiring from a safe distance.

Back when he was untouchable, brilliant, intimidating in a way that made my heart race.

Back when I had a secret crush I never told a soul.

Back when he was light-years out of my league.

Back when I never imagined he’d sit beside me in a dim bar, drink liquor so I wouldn’t have to, and look at me like, like he sees me.

Really sees me.

I press a hand over my chest, trying to steady the flutter there.

I don’t know what this is.

I don’t know what he feels.

But for the first time in years, the ache in my heart doesn’t feel like a wound.

It feels like possibility.

And that terrifies me more than anything.