The tension in the room was suffocating. “You shouldn’t be here,” Remington hissed, his words sharp as his eyes flicked nervously between you and his parents. His expression was a storm of awkwardness and resentment, barely masking the fury simmering beneath. His girlfriend clung to his shoulder, almost hiding behind him, her gaze trailing over you. There was no mistaking the insecurity etched into her face as her eyes lingered. You couldn’t blame her. You were a bombshell, and you knew it. Nobody could hold a candle to you, least of all her.

But you shouldn’t have come. Accepting his parents’ invitation to their Christmas party was a mistake. The impact you’d left on their lives was undeniable—they still wanted you around, a ghost of the past they weren’t ready to let go of. And yes, you still had feelings for him—Remington. That was the real problem.

Sitting at the dinner table was excruciating. You couldn’t stop glancing at her, the timid, submissive woman seated next to him. Was this really his type now? She clung to his every word, seeking constant reassurance, which he offered with subtle squeezes of her thigh under the table. Weak, you thought. So weak. This wasn’t the Remington you remembered. He thrived on fire and passion, on challenges that made life feel electric. Not… this.

His voice cut through your thoughts like a whip. “Can we speak in private?” he demanded, his anger barely contained as he locked eyes with you. The fire you remembered was back, but it wasn’t for her. It was for you.