Falling for My Mother's Fiancé

Selene POV Miami, Florida. I received a video message from an unknown number. “Spam,” I told myself. “Or probably some creep fishing for attention.” I tucked my phone back into my pocket and refocused on what really mattered… the cake balanced carefully in my hand. Two tiers of cream cheese frosting with ‘Happy Anniversary Mick’, written in his favourite shade of blue. He was going to love it. A smile swept across my mouth as I pictured that wide, boyish grin of his. The one that still managed to make my stomach flutter even after three years together. Three whole years. And somehow, I was still hopelessly in love with him. Halfway to my car, my phone buzzed again. I sighed under my breath. “Goodness. Can I just have peace for one day?” Shifting the box to one arm, I fished out my phone with my other hand. Unknown number. Same video message. I stared at the screen for a while longer this time. “Yeah, absolutely not. This is how people get scammed.” I nearly put it away, but then… curiosity? That s**t pricked at me like a needle— small, sharp and impossible to ignore. “Fine!” I exhaled sharply and hit the play button. The video opened to a mess of tangled sheets, two people slamming their naked bodies against each other with their moans bleeding through my speaker so loud close passerbys would think I was… “Yikes…” My face twisted in disgust. “People can be so gross.” I was about to swipe it off my screen when the camera shifted just enough to catch their faces. My fingers went numb instantly. “No… no, that’s not—” Unfortunately, it was. The familiar figures staring back at me said it all. Isabella. My best friend. And Mick. My ‘boyfriend’. “Harder, Mick…” Isabella whispered breathlessly, her nails digging into his back. “Don’t ever stop...” And Mick? God. He thrusted even faster like he had no care in the world. Like I didn’t exist. Like today wasn’t our anniversary. My stomach flipped violently. I took a step back. Then another. “No…” I muttered, shaking my head like that could change what I was seeing. “This can't be—” The box slipped slightly in my grip, and before I could realise myself— The cake fell and crashed to the floor with a soft, sickening thud. I stared down at it with glassy eyes, too numb to understand what had just happened. Three years. Three whole years of choosing a man everyone said wasn't worth it. I never cared that he wasn’t rich, never cared about status or connections or any of the things men in my world usually cared about. Mick felt different. Real. Honest. Or maybe I was just stupid enough to believe what I wanted to believe. Because clearly, the future I kept fighting for existed only in my head. On the screen, Isabella kissed him again. Something inside me snapped. “f**k you, Mick!” I screamed, my voice cracking apart. People passing by slowed down to stare. “Is she okay?” someone whispered nearby. I wiped furiously at my face, suddenly aware of the tears pouring down my cheeks. There was no way I was giving strangers a front-row seat to the worst moment of my life. I forced my legs to move and slid into my car seat, my hands trembling as I gripped the steering wheel. My phone rang. Mick. The audacity. The call kept ringing, but I didn’t answer. How could I? I started the engine instead, clueless about where I was going and just drove. — The neon sign of Velvet Room flickered above me by the time I stopped. I didn’t remember deciding to come here. But here I was, looking like I was carrying the weight of the whole world on my shoulders. Honestly, it felt like I was. I stepped out of the car and slammed the door harder than necessary. “Two vodka shots,” I said, dropping into a stool. The bartender slid them over almost immediately. I knocked them back one after the other. “Again.” He poured. I gulped them down too. By the third round, my head was already starting to feel light. Good, that was the point. I just needed an escape route from the battle happening inside my head. I rested my elbows on the counter, staring at nothing in particular— and that was when I felt it. Across the room was a dark-haired man with streaks of white in his beards, sitting away from the crowd like he had no will to be there. The strange part? He was staring directly at me. I frowned and looked away. “What’s his problem…” I muttered before taking another sip of my drink. A few minutes later, I glanced back at his direction only to discover his eyes still on me. Now, that did it. Before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed my glass and walked straight toward him. Bad idea. I didn’t care. I dropped into the chair across from him and slammed my glass on his table. “Do I owe you money or something?” I asked, squinting at him. “Because the way you keep staring, someone would think I skipped town with your cash.” He didn’t look offended. If anything, he looked amused. “You look miserable yet beautiful,” he said calmly. “And with the way you were choking on that vodka? I could tell all isn't well with you.” I blinked at him. Then I laughed. I actually laughed. “And what's business with that?” He tapped at the space beside him. “Are you planning to interrogate me all night from over there?” I shrugged. “Probably.” But I sat down anyway. He leaned back slightly. “So… What's the gorgeous lady doing in a club alone at such an ungodly hour?” I stared at my glass, tracing the rim with my finger. He patiently waited… and that made it look more weird. Why would I share my ordeal with a stranger? But then… It's possible I might likely not see him again, so there won't be room for shaming later. I let out a breath. “I watched a video today,” I finally said. “Of the two people I trusted the most… having sex.” He winced slightly. “Damn!” “My boyfriend,” I added. “And my best friend.” “Jezz, that’s brutal.” “So brutal.” For a moment, neither of us said anything. Then he lifted his glass slightly. “Well, it’s my wife’s death anniversary today.” I looked at him. “I figured I’d come here,” he continued, “drink something I probably shouldn’t, and pretend like I’m fine.” A small, sad smile pulled at my lips. “Well… that sucks.” He chuckled. “Yeah. It does.” We both sat there for a second, two strangers drowning in the pain our loved ones left us with. Only that the cause of our pains were different. “To terrible anniversaries.” He raised his glass. I picked mine up. “To terrible anniversaries.” We clinked. I took a sip—then frowned when nothing came out. “Oops,” I said, holding it up. “That’s depressing.” He reached for the bottle. “Want another?” I nodded. “Yeah.” He poured. “Thanks.” Music pulsed around us, a bit louder now. He nodded along to the beat looking more relaxed than ever. While me? I drank again, and again like I was about to flush off the cruel memories of tonight. I didn't know if it was the alcohol deceiving me, but through the corner of my eyes, I noticed his gaze drop briefly to my lips before looking away. My heart skipped a bit. I should’ve moved and distanced myself because this man was older than me and I barely knew him. I couldn't afford to let whatever thoughts that's spiralling in his head linger… His fingers brushed lightly against my hand hesitantly, like he was giving me the chance to pull away. Goodness! I didn’t. And maybe that was the real mistake. He leaned in slowly this time, giving me enough space to stop him. Too bad, I wasn't ready to. Before I could think, he claimed my lips in a soft gentle kiss. My eyes fluttered shut like some kid getting a surprise tickle attack. Drunk and stupid, I snaked my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. When he pulled away, his eyes searched mine carefully. “Are you sure you…” “You want to get a room?” I cut him off immediately, surprised at my own words.