Chapter 8
After that night, Liam never reached out again.
I figured he was probably angry. I mean, who wouldn’t be?
He was the golden boy–I turned him down cold.
Maybe it was better this way.
At least I wouldn’t feel guilty when I left.
Still… after work, my eyes would drift to the corner where he used to wait.
When I ordered coffee, I kept catching myself picking his usual drink too.
Habits. They’re brutal.
I kept telling myself–it’s just a phase. I’d adjust eventually.
Maybe once I was overseas, away from everything that reminded me of him, I’d be fine.
But word got out.
And on the day of my flight–Christian showed up at the airport.
“Eve… I’ll wait for you. Always. I brought you candy and some painkillers.”
“I know your cramps get bad, and I won’t be there to rub your back, but… please take care of yourself.”
He looked smaller than I remembered.
Like someone who finally realized what he lost.
His voice was soft, almost pleading.
I didn’t say a word. Just stared at him.
Eventually, he pulled his hand back, ashamed.
“Stop doing this,” I said, quiet and cold.
“It’s over. For real this time.”
“Don’t make me hate you.”
Then I walked away.
And I didn’t look back.
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Just a Stand In?! My Billionaire Hubby’s OTHER Wife…
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Chapter 8
Life abroad was hectic.
Every day was packed–rehearsals, practice, training.
I barely had time to breathe, let alone think about anything else.
But sometimes… I’d catch myself thinking about Liam.
Wondering if he still waited outside my old place.
If he still checked his phone, where our last text sat frozen in time-
“Off at six. Let’s try that new Thai place.”
Never did get to try it.
Then one night, Bianca messaged me.
She sent an ultrasound pic…
Followed by a bunch of bedroom selfies.
She was completely naked, curled up in Christian’s arms.
One shot had him kissing her shoulder.
Another–both of them asleep, all tangled up.
They looked blissfully in love.
Her text read:
“We’ve been together for two years now. And I’m pregnant with Christian’s baby.”
“The future Mrs. Cole? That’s me.”
“You’re gone. Don’t come crawling back.”
“Don’t be that girl, Eve.”
“No one likes the jealous ex, and I know you don’t want to be the homewrecker.”
I stared at the screen and laughed–sharp, bitter.
Since when did the side chick start acting like the main character?
She stole him. She cheated with him.
And now she wanted to shame me?
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Chapter 8
Fine.
She wanted to be Mrs. Cole so bad?
I’d help her get there–real fast.
That night, I messaged a journalist back home.
Leaked everything–Christian cheating, the baby, the whole mess.
Even paid to push it to the top of the trending page.
Then I posted a long, gut–wrenching breakup rant on social.
Every word soaked in betrayal. I made sure people felt it.
After that, I turned off my phone.
I had bigger things to focus on.
Tomorrow night was my first big performance since coming to Europe.
My debut. It meant everything.
Under the lights, I stepped onto the stage.
The theater was packed–standing room only.
My pulse was hammering in my chest.
This was the dream.
I was finally living it.
The lights dimmed. The music started.
And I danced.
I let the rhythm carry me–spin after spin.
For a second, I thought I saw him.
There–in the middle of the crowd.
Liam.
It couldn’t be. I spun again, blinking through the stage lights.
His face was hazy. My mind had to be playing tricks.
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Chapter 8
But when the music ended–and the applause roared through the theater–he stood up.
Waved at me.
It was him.
Liam had come.
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