STUCK WITH MY BEST-FREIND'S DAD (Revenge On My Cheating Ex-Husband)

VIONNE'S POV

After signing those papers.

I thought there would be some kind of relief, some kind of freedom in finally letting go of Harrison. But instead, I felt nothing. Just this numb weight sitting on my chest, pressing into my lungs, making it hard to breathe.

It was past eight when I finally picked up my phone. Maddie's name sat at the top of my recent calls.

I pressed dial.

She picked up immediately. "Vionne ?"

The moment I heard her voice, the dam inside me broke again.

"He left," I said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "He really left."

"Oh, honey..."

I could hear her shift, maybe sitting up or grabbing her keys. "Tell me everything."

So I did.

Everything from the moment Harrison dropped the envelope on the bed, to the photo, to the park, to signing the divorce papers. I tried to stay calm, to sound strong. But Maddie heard the cracks in my voice.

And she didn't sugarcoat her response.

"Your stepsister is a snake," she said bluntly. "And Harrison is a fool. You didn't deserve any of that."

I closed my eyes. "I feel so stupid. I kept thinking I wasn't enough. That I failed."

"You didn't fail anything," Maddie snapped. "You were married to a liar. You gave your heart to someone who didn't deserve it. That's not failure. That's love. He was the one who failed, not you."

I swallowed hard, biting my lip to hold back the fresh wave of emotion. "I just... I don't know what to do now."

There was a pause on the other end before she said, "Come out with me tonight."

I blinked. "What?"

"I'm serious," she said. "Let's go out. Just us. You need a change of scene, some loud music, maybe a drink-or five. You can't stay in that house crying over him forever. He's not worth it."

I hesitated.

Going out? I didn't even feel like putting on pants, much less makeup.

"I don't know if I'm ready-"

"No one's ever ready," she cut in gently. "But sometimes you have to fake it. Just for one night. Be Vionne before Harrison. The Vionne I remember. Strong. Beautiful. Wild."

I let out a small, shaky laugh. "I was never wild."

"Well, maybe it's time to start."

I didn't say yes, but an hour later, I found myself standing in front of the mirror, slipping on a deep burgundy dress I hadn't worn in years. It hugged my curves, dipped low in the back, and made me feel something I hadn't in a long time-alive.

I put on light makeup, added a little mascara, and gave my hair some loose waves. It wasn't much, but when I looked at myself in the mirror, I almost didn't recognize the woman staring back.

Maybe that was the point.

By the time I stepped outside, Maddie's car was already waiting in the driveway. She rolled down the window and whistled when she saw me.

"Damn, girl. You look like sin and sorrow wrapped in silk."

I laughed for real this time. "You're ridiculous."

She winked. "Ridiculously right. Now get in."

We drove with the windows down and music blaring. She talked the whole time, filling the silence with stories from work, gossip from mutual friends, and the time she nearly got arrested for slapping her ex at a wedding.

"And I swear," she said, taking a sharp turn, "if I ever see Harrison in public, I'll throw my drink in his face. No hesitation."

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to. He deserves to feel half the shame he dumped on you."

I glanced out the window, my smile fading just a little. "What if he doesn't feel any shame?"

She was quiet for a moment before reaching over to squeeze my hand. "Then you walk away knowing you were always better than him."

We pulled up in front of a bar I didn't recognize-dark lights, thumping music, and a long line of people outside.

"Don't worry," Maddie said, dragging me by the hand. "I know the bouncer."

Of course she did.

Inside, the music hit me like a wave-loud and electric. People moved on the dance floor like they were chasing something. The air was thick with perfume, laughter, and spilled liquor.

We made our way to the bar, and Maddie ordered shots before I could protest.

"To freedom," she said, holding hers up.

I clinked my glass against hers, and we knocked them back.

One shot turned into two.

Two into four.

We danced. We laughed. For a while, I forgot. I let go. I let Maddie pull me into the crowd, let strangers brush past me, let the beat vibrate in my chest until it drowned out everything else.

But the peace didn't last long.

Around midnight, Maddie's phone lit up. Her face changed instantly.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She showed me the screen. "My little sister just got into a car accident. Nothing major, but I need to go check on her. She's freaking out."

"Go," I said immediately. "She needs you."

Maddie bit her lip. "You'll be okay?"

I nodded. "I'll order a cab. I just need a few minutes."

She hesitated but gave me a tight hug. "Text me the second you get home. I mean it."

"I will."

And then she was gone.

I turned back to the bar, sitting down with a soft sigh. The room spin just a little, but I felt strangely calm. Hollow, but calm.

That's when I noticed someone slide into the seat next to me.

He didn't speak right away. Just leaned over the counter to get the bartender's attention. His voice was deep, smooth.

"Whiskey. Double."

He turned to me then, his eyes dark and unreadable. Handsome in a way that made my stomach flutter, not polished like Harrison, but rough around the edges, with stubble on his jaw and a faint scar above his brow.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"Rough night?" he said, nodding toward the drink in my hand.

I gave him a tired smile. "Something like that."

He took a sip of his whiskey, eyes still on mine. "Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Fair."

There was a pause. Then he said, "I'm Ethan."

"Vionne ."

We talked. Nothing deep. He told me about his job, how he hated Mondays, and how he once set his kitchen on fire trying to cook pasta.

I laughed more than I expected to.

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the pain. Or maybe it was the way he looked at me-like I was interesting, like he didn't know anything about my past and didn't care.

Somewhere between our third drink and a shared plate of fries, I realized I was leaning closer.

So was he.

And before I could stop it, his lips found mine.