Chapter 1
For the ninety-ninth time, my husband was whisked away by his old flame.
This time, I didn't cry or make a scene.
I just called my husband's younger brother, a popular lead singer who had just returned from overseas.
"Three years after we broke up, you're now my brother's wife?
"I was overseas, not in the grave! A look-alike—and my older brother, of all people?"
After one crazy night, my husband was the one freaking out.
*****
I used to be the glamorous Mrs. Stone, living the high life.
I was crazy about Ethan Stone—especially those cold, sharp looks.
I used to drift off with my hand on his face and those killer abs, but not anymore.
Because Ethan's first love, Rose Lynn, was back in town.
After that day, he began coming home late—or not at all.
Her perfume—something crisp and woody—always clung to his shirts.
He even dropped a fortune so Rose would dance exclusively for him.
All my jewelry and designer dresses ended up at her studio.
Even the title of Mrs. Stone felt like it belonged to her now.
I couldn't really blame him.
After all, the woman he'd been chasing for over ten years, the one he could never have, was suddenly right there in front of him.
I got it. I had my own dream too—or rather, a secret.
A dream that was distant and hazy, from a time long ago.
Alex—the one I could never forget—stayed overseas and never came back.
But now? Everything was different. I stared at the messages on my phone.
[How've you been? Want to meet up?]
[Still thinking about you.]
He was home recently—back for his tour and his mother's reburial. She'd been the first wife of Ethan's father.
*****
Family dinner. Ethan was a no-show—Rose had sprained her ankle, so he was at the hospital.
Fine by me. Alex was there.
He sat across from me, looking surprised, but just kept eating quietly.
"Alex, meet your sister-in-law, Eva Warren," Richard Stone said.
He kept piling food onto Alex's plate, as if out of guilt—guilt toward him, and toward his mother.
"Hi, Eva," Alex mumbled, his voice low and awkward.
He kept staring at me like he wanted to say something, but couldn't get the words out.
My phone buzzed. Ethan: [I'll pick you up after dinner.]
I replied with an "okay" and kept eating.
After the family dinner, I wasn't surprised when Ethan never showed up.
Rose always found some excuse to keep him by her side.
Snow fell. I stood at the villa gate, waiting—not for Ethan, but betting that Alex would cave.
"Eva, come over."
I knew it.
Alex reluctantly fastened the motorcycle helmet on me. I grinned up at him.
"Stop playing games. Get on, I'm taking you home," he sighed. "Three years and now you're my sister-in-law..."
"Upset? You're the one who wouldn't come back." I wrapped my arms around his waist, slipping my hands under his jacket for warmth.
"Hey, careful... It's not like I didn't want to..." He pulled my hands out, letting me grip only his jacket hem.
"Where to? What's the address?" he asked.
"I don't know. Never been good with directions."
"Eva, stop it. I don't care what people think, but this isn't good for you."
"I don't care either. Nobody's home, nobody loves me, nobody gives a damn. I'm lonely and hurting."
Since I wouldn't back down—wouldn't give him my address, didn't even bring my driver's license—Alex took me to his place.
He still tried calling Ethan several times, letting him know I was at his place and asking if he wanted to pick me up.
But the calls never went through.
Thank you, Rose. Thank you, Ethan. Thank you, universe.
"Guest room. Don't snoop around," Alex said.
I roamed around the house, taking it all in.
Black and white everything—cold and lifeless.
His bedroom felt familiar. Black, white, and gray bedding. Matching carpet. Instrument cases lined against the wall. Jackets everywhere.
"No more looking," Alex said, covering my eyes and dragging me to the guest room.
"Why not? What, you're just like your brother—got someone hidden away? Nobody loves me! Nobody!" I wailed, pulling out all the drama queen stops.
This trick always worked on Alex. Whenever I acted all pathetic and wouldn't let go, he'd always cave.
I knew him too well. He feared abandonment, feared being unloved. He knew that pain firsthand, so he couldn't stand hearing someone say nobody loved them, especially in that pitiful way.
"You... you only try that on me," Alex said.
Sure enough, his arms loosened, then he pulled me into a shaky but warm hug.
"Of course someone loves you... I do," he whispered.
With my old flame right in front of me—the one I'd treasured above everything—clothes became nothing but obstacles.
It was one crazy, unforgettable night.
*****
The next morning, I woke up to Ethan's late-night text.
[Sorry, Rose's ankle is bad and she needs me. Just head home yourself.]
Alex grabbed my phone, read the message, and scrolled through our chat history.
"This is how he treats you?" he asked.
He put the phone down and pulled me close. "Eva, come to the festival tomorrow night."
He pulled a backstage pass and ticket from his nightstand. "I can only really sing when you're there."