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She flings a towel over her shoulder and begins pouring and mixing a strange array of liquids. Her face falls slightly, “Nah, not yet. Buthe did say he would give me a shot once Iprove myselfout here. Whatever that means.” She shrugs, handing me the drink. “So what's going on? How much longer are you playing house for?”

I want to tell her it doesn't feel like I’m playing anymore but that will subject me to a line of questions I don’t have the answers for. “Umm, just a couple more weeks, I think. I’ve honestly started losing count of the days.”

“And then what? Do you have to get a fake divorce to cover up your real annulment?

“I’m not sure.” These are definitely things I need to figure out soon though.

Condensation begins to drip from my untouched glass, I pop each individual droplet trying to make sense of how I feel about going through with the annulment right as we’re possibly starting something.

“Let me ask you this, have you caught feelings for your grumpy husband, Mila?” she asks with a knowing smirk.

I thought I was careful to keep my feelings surface-level. Nothing beyond a physical attraction. But I’m so far past that now. Of course, I’ve caught feelings for Miles. Real feelings. The kind that makes me smile just by seeing his face. The kind that makes me nervous, excited, and relaxed all at the same time. I can cause my heart to flutter against my rib cage just dragging up an image of him in my mind.

Never mind the fact that the sexual chemistry between us is nothing like anything I’ve ever experienced before. And we haven't even actually had sex yet. But it’s so much more than that. I haven't stopped thinking about the morning he had Rosa turn his entire kitchen into a bakery simply because he knows pastries are my favorite.

I’ve been confused about my feelings for Miles since the morning I woke up married to him, but the truth is, every day things become more andmore clear. His belief in me is contagious. The way he is so adamant about me fighting for what I want leaves me feeling worthy. I suppose I have always known what I wanted, somewhere deep down, but I don't think I ever felt worthy of those things. And somewhere along the way, I’ve masked that worry with a need to please everyone. As if by making everyone else happy they’ll focus on what I’ve done for them, and not the things I’ve been too scared of wanting for myself.

I feel different around Miles. I feel like I can be the part of myself that I’ve forgotten. A part of myself that I’ve desperately missed.

“You know that goofy ass face tells me yes even if you don't say it out loud,” she says.

“Yes! Okay. Yes. I have feelings for him. But don’t ask me what that means because I don't know!” Her eyes don't leave the glass she's drying, but her know-it-all smile reflects off the tap handles in front of her.

“Okay, I won't ask. For now,” she pauses. “What about the studio space? How was it?”

“Perfect,” I confess.

“Yeah? Does this mean you're going to put in an offer andfinallyopen your own art studio?”

“With the amount I would need to take out in a loan, it still just feels too risky.”

“Does it seem more risky than having to work another job you hate that triggers your anxiety every day?”

That's one point for Taylor and zero points for me.

“I’m still thinking about it. I haven't written it off.” It’s not a lie.

“Okay good. That's all I’ll ask for….for now.”

The bar around me has started to fill up. Taylor continues making drinks while I begin to feel a little overwhelmed with all the unanswered questions I have floating around my head. I need to get back to the only man who can help me answer these questions, and I’m not going to let them go unanswered anymore.

Miles

I’m stillin a foul mood as I take the elevator up to the penthouse. I couldn't come home to Camila after I got that text. I had Wills drop me off at Villetta—a private club that I pay thousands of dollars a month for, only for Jonas and I to attend a concert once every other month. A drink at the grand bar and lounge, a walk around the grounds, and five hours later did nothing to improve my mood. But as I exit the elevator and spot Camila in her usual spot curled up on the couch, I unclench my first for the first time and the permanent crease between my eyebrows seems to relax.

Her face is deep in concentration, but when she pops up from her computer she hits me with a smile that takes up her whole face. “Hey!”

I clear my throat, “Hey.”

“Everything okay?”

I loosen my tie as I pull out a chair sitting at the dining room table. “It’s nothing.” I begin rolling up my sleeves and then I catch myself. My short reply is what she expects from me and I don’t want to give her that anymore. But I was determined to come home and have a real discussion with her, and bringing up my father would ruin this. “It’s not that I don’t want totalk to you about it, but I had a shit day at the office and Ijust don’t want to deal with it right now. Is that okay?” I just want to be here with her and soak in her presence.

She sets her laptop down before slowly walking over to me. The corner of her bottom lip pulls in between her teeth like she's trying to decide something. She slides between me and the table and leans back against it as she massages my chest and shoulders.

“Yes, Mr. Cameron. Thank you for telling me.”

“But I didn’t tell you anything,” I say, confused.