Chapter 92: Jealous
Ella was sitting across from him, nibbling on a piece of caramel tart like it was nothing—like she hadn’t just short-circuited every functioning neuron in his body with that dress, those eyes, and that laugh. And yet, despite the perfection of the moment, despite the warmth and wine and the way she kept looking at him like he was the only thing worth seeing, he asked the question anyway.
"Why’d you stay with him?"
She looked up, startled. "With Ryan?"
He nodded, careful to keep his tone light, almost casual. Like it didn’t matter.
But it did. It mattered more than he wanted to admit.
Ella didn’t answer immediately. She went still—quiet in a way that told him she was thinking, really thinking. Her brows pulled together in a thoughtful crease, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her glass as she stared into the flickering candlelight between them.
Nicholas almost told her to forget it. Almost changed the subject. But then she spoke—softly, rawly.
"I think... sometimes," she began, voice barely above a whisper, "you want so badly to be someone’s first choice. Especially when you never have been. You just want to be enough. Just once. Even if it’s with the wrong person."
His chest tightened, breath catching in his throat. He didn’t say anything, couldn’t. Because he knew that feeling. Knew it like a scar on his own skin. Her words reached right in and cracked something open inside him.
Ella gave a quiet, bitter laugh, shaking her head. "It’s stupid. I knew he wasn’t good for me. I knew he didn’t care—not really. Not the way I wanted him to. But I stayed. Because leaving meant admitting no one had ever really chosen me. And that... that was worse. That was lonelier."
It felt like watching someone take off armor piece by piece and lay it at his feet.