Deception and Love: I Won't Be Sad to Leave

Divorce requires a cooling-off period, during which I couldn't bear the sight of Arthur's face any longer.

So, I boarded a plane to Mayby, and upon landing, I immediately bought a fully furnished house.

As a moderately successful novelist, I'd earned a decent amount from selling the film rights to my books, and Arthur had always been generous with me. I had accumulated a considerable amount of assets.

My phone kept buzzing with notifications. I didn't need to look to know it was Arthur.

He was begging me not to leave, not to divorce him, to love him.

Bullshit.

He should have known better.

The bar was bustling with people coming and going. I drowned my sorrows in several bottles of beer and stumbled out into the back alley, feeling dizzy.

The moon was bright tonight, hanging high in the night sky, casting a beautiful, silvery light. I sat in the alley, staring at the moon, lost in thought.

Someone passed by in the alley saw me, and walked over with ill intentions, grabbing my arm.

"Hey lady, wanna come with me?"

I didn't move, but he wouldn't give up.

"Come on, let's go. I promise you'll have a good time."

"Get lost."

I spat out the word, and just as he was about to get physical, a tall, muscular figure loomed over him from behind. A deep, rich voice echoed through the night alley, filled with impatience.

"She said get lost, didn't you hear?"

"Who the hell are you... Ouch!"

The man screamed as his arm was twisted back and tossed onto the ground as if he were merely a piece of paper.

The other man approached and steadied me.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Where do you live? Do you need me to take you home?"

As he moved closer, the light revealed his face clearly for the first time.

With bronze skin, sharp and rugged features, a high nose bridge, muscular arms, a broad chest, and a lean waist, he exuded pure masculinity.

Perhaps noticing my silence, his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he asked again.

"Where do you live?"

"Oh... I live in..."

Overwhelmed by the alcohol, I slumped into his arms, flashes of those explicit photos, heartfelt chats, and Arthur's regretful, tearful face crossing my mind.

My brain momentarily froze, and I impulsively grabbed the man's collar and tiptoed to press my lips against his.

It was soft and relaxed, with a hint of alcohol.

He abruptly pulled away, frowning.

"What are you doing?"

I smiled coyly at him, smacking my lips and gently tracing his jawline with my finger.

"I got dumped today. Keep me company.

"Just for one night."

The man was silent for a moment, then let out a sigh. "You're drunk."

"Not too bad. I still recognize who you are."

"And who am I?"

"A stranger."

I laughed uncontrollably, and my waist suddenly pulled into his embrace.

"My name's Emmett Brooks."

"Oh..."

"And you?"

"Avery Hamilton."

"Avery, are you serious?"

I looked up into his deep brown eyes and smiled.

"Of course."

After that, I found myself at his place.

My phone kept ringing; I knew all too well who it would be.

Half-drunk and dazed, I was lost in the night, unable to discern my feelings.

It wasn't until the early hours of the morning that I finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep.

As dawn broke, I awoke from my drunken slumber, dizzy and disoriented.

The man beside me was sleeping soundly, his arm draped over my waist, his breathing slow and steady.

A jolt of adrenaline shot through me as the memories of the previous night flooded back.

Damn.

Drinking never did any good.

Rubbing my forehead, I quietly shifted his hand off my waist and cautiously got out of bed.

Just as my toes touched the floor, an arm suddenly stretched out from behind, pulling me back.

"Hit and run? Aren't you going to take responsibility?"