THE HUSBAND I WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO CRAVE

1. ~~~ Elena ~~~ The bass hit my chest before the music even registered, but I could barely feel it. My eyes were already scanning the crowd for a door — any door at all — that wasn't the one my best friend Sienna was dragging me toward. "Stop stalling," she laughed, her fingers locked around my wrist like she knew I would bolt away like lightning if she didn't. "You really have to meet my fiancé properly for the first time, not just as 'the guy from the photos' I showed you." I forced a smile. I had been forcing a smile for a week now, ever since she'd shown me his picture. Something cold had dropped at the bottom of my stomach. The man in the photo had the face of the man I had spent seven years trying to forget, and now he was smiling back at me from an engagement announcement. Maybe it wasn't him. Maybe it was just a coincidence in bone structure. Or a trick of the light when the camera clicked. "I'm not stalling. I just don't think I'm in the best state to see him." She dragged me further, flashing me the tiniest glance. "You look perfect, Elena." Suddenly the crowd gave way, and there he was — standing by the bar with a glass of wine in his hand. When he turned to face me, his eyes found mine, and the smile he'd worn faltered. He remembered and recognized me too. My breath hitched as I took him in, in real life and not via photos. He had long wavy hair that framed his face, hazel eyes, and the mole under his eye. Damian. This was Damian. He extended his hand toward me, his eyes watching the color drain from my face. "Damian Cross," he introduced himself, saying his name to me like we were strangers. As though his lips hadn't once known every curve of my body. I slipped my hand into his, his large hand wrapping firmly around mine — long enough for warmth to shoot up my arm, and long enough that Sienna, laughing at something across the room, didn't notice. "I'm Elena Vale," I uttered, my voice coming out firmer than I felt inside. He nodded slowly, something unreadable flashing behind his eyes. "Elena." He said my name, rolling off smoothly on his tongue. "I have a feeling we're going to be very close." He leaned in, still gripping my hand. "Sienna's told me a lot about you." His breath fanned my ear, and he leaned away just in time before Sienna's gaze returned to the both of us, her grin widening more than it should. "I'm so glad you both finally met. Feels like a dream come true." I forced a nod, heart racing in my chest. I turned to face Sienna. "I'd like to use the bathroom. My bladder's tolerance is at its brink." I lied, doing everything just to stay two meters away from the man who not only made me remember things I shouldn't but also made me suffocate in my own skin. Sienna hesitated, brows furrowed. "All you had was one drink you know. I'm not even done with introducing my fiancé to you." I placed my hand on her shoulder, looking her straight in the eye. "I'll be back in five minutes max." Sienna stuck her pinky at me. "No more than that." I crossed my pinky around hers. "I promise." I muttered and sprinted away before she would say something else. The engagement was hosted at an event in South Florida, a massive estate that belonged to Sienna's family. A kind of estate that had everything. A golf field, its own private beach and staff that called her Miss Whitmore instead of Sienna. Her family were tycoons. They had money that went back a lot of generations. The kind of wealth that you don't get to ask questions about but only admire from a distance. Chandeliers, marble floors, waiters weaving through three hundred guests like it was nothing. I had grown up watching that world from a distance. I saw them on TV, read about them in magazines and listened to people talk about them on the radio and overall I was grateful she let me into that world as her best friend. I wove through the crowd, heels sinking slightly into the plush rug, until I finally spotted the restroom sign glowing at the end of the hall. "There you are." I sighed and pushed it open, heading straight to the nearest faucet. I turned it on and splashed water on my face repeatedly, hoping it would wash away the dread creeping up my spine. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, loose strands of my hair sticking out randomly. "So it is truly Damian?" I ran my fingers through my hair. "Why does Sienna's fiancé have to be a man I had an affair with seven years ago?" I rubbed my nose violently, a habit I did whenever I was nervous. "Why does he have to be the one?" The door flung open before I could say anything else. Right through the mirror's reflection, I could see Damian walk in and shut the door behind him. I spun around immediately, eyes widened. "What the hell are you doing here? You shouldn't be in here." I whispered, folding my arms across my chest. "I don't care." He said flatly, crossed the space between us and tilted up my chin with two fingers. I knocked his hands off. "This is the women's restroom. Someone might have seen you walk in." "I don't care if they did." he said and smiled before pushing my hair off my face, inching closer. "Tell me you still don't feel it. Tell me you don't crave what we had seven years ago and I'll walk away right now. Ask me to stop and I will." I opened my mouth to say something. To lie, to scream or curse him but nothing came out. His thumb traced my jaw, and I hated how my body leaned into it instead of being repulsed that my bestie's fiancé was touching me. I should have stopped him or said something. I should have told him what we had was gone and forgotten but I didn't. Instead his mouth found mine and the seven years of trying to forget him ignited the fire I've been trying to quench in just a single kiss. His hands found my waist as he devoured my mouth with so much hunger. And that was when I heard it. A fist rapping against the door. "What are you still doing in here, Elena? I thought you said five minutes." My breath caught mid-kiss. My heart slammed against my ribs, panic flooding every inch of me as I shoved Damian back, eyes darting to the door like it might swing open any second. For seven years, I had tried to forget Damian. And in less than five minutes, I had just kissed him again.