I pulled away from the kiss slowly. August's expression was unreadable — his eyes darting, breath caught, like he couldn't decide whether to be shocked or furious.
I bit my lower lip, fighting a smirk. Now I see why Tracy lost her mind over him.
When I glanced at her, her jaw was practically on the floor. Then she stormed out of the party, heels clicking violently against the marble floor.
Karma is a bitch.
I watched her go with quiet satisfaction — until August stood abruptly.
"Let's talk. Outside," he said in a low, restrained tone— the kind of tone that said I'd crossed a line.
"Excuse me," I smiled at the guys and picked up my phone.
I followed him into the garden. The air there was heavy, humid — thick with the scent of wet grass and night-blooming jasmine.
What was that?" His voice sliced through the quiet garden.
"What?" I played dumb, forcing a calm I didn't feel.
"Your little act back there." He stepped closer, voice still low but sharp enough to cut through the tension "Do I look like a joke to you?"
Damn.
I blinked, trying to think of what to say now that I was faced with the reality.
"No, I just—" I looked at his face, expecting him to cut me off like Ty would, so I could lash back. But he didn't. He waited, silent and composed. That calmness was almost worse than yelling. And in all honesty, I had no solid explanation. It was an impulsive move.
"I just did it," I muttered finally, shrugging as if that explained anything.
He said nothing. The silence pressed in, thick and humid like the air between us.
I took a deep breath. "That was a bit out of place. Sorry."
"You kissed me in front of everyone because what? You thought this—" he gestured between us "—was real?"
"I don't see us as a real couple," I said, stepping back to meet his gaze
He stepped forward, towering over me. His shadow swallowed mine. I tilted my head back to meet his eyes — hard, unreadable, but searching. At five-foot-two, I had to look up far enough to meet his gaze.
"Then why are you here, Maya?"
My chest tightened. His tone wasn't raised, but the question carried weight — like a hand pressed against my throat. I'd forgotten how sharp August Sinclair could be when he wanted answers.
"I'll just leave," I murmured, turning away.
His voice followed me. "Our marriage only exists on a piece of paper, Maya."
I froze. Goosebumps ran up my arms
"Oh really?" I turned back to him, anger rising like heat in my chest. "That's how you see it?"
"Yes and you know that," he said flatly. He continued "Even though I'm obligated to live with you after all this, it still isn't real"
He said it like he dreaded it. Like Living with me, would be a punishment.
My vision blurred, rage burning behind my ribs. "Of course it's not real," I snapped, and guess what? The feeling is mutual. But that piece of paper — the one you're so disgusted by — saved your mother's life. So you're welcome."
His eyes widened, hurt flashing for just a second. I didn't care.
The distant music faded. The night air cooled against my skin, carrying the faint sound of laughter from inside.
"Don't even bother coming home," I said, my voice trembling now with more than anger. "I don't want to see you."
I turned to leave—and there she was. Tracy. Standing there with that smug, satisfied smile.
Perfect timing, as always.
I brushed past her, but she caught my wrist lightly, her nails grazing my skin.
"You're just a spoiled, entitled brat he tutored years ago," she whispered. "That's all you'll ever be to him. Don't forget it."
I yanked my hand free and walked back inside. I grabbed my bag and left without a word.
No words. No expression. Just silence — only the city lights blurring through my windshield as I drove home, my knuckles white on the steering wheel.
My co-resident doctors kept calling, probably to ask if I'd be resuming work on Monday at my new hospital.
Clarke had also texted, saying she was heading home. I didn't reply.
I switched my phone to Do Not Disturb.
This night had become one of those nights where I wanted nothing but total silence.