You were sick of it. Sick of pretending this wasn’t tearing you apart inside. One minute he was next to you, his hand around your waist, whispering sweet things like you actually meant something. The next, he was gone—across the bar, laughing way too hard at some girl’s joke, fingers brushing her arm like you weren’t even there.

You stared at them, heart sinking like it always did. You didn’t make a scene. You didn’t cry. You just stood, turned, and walked out the door without looking back.

The air outside slapped your skin, but it felt better than the heat building in your chest. You didn’t even know where you were going. You just needed away. Away from him, away from this endless cycle of being overlooked, passed over, lied to. You deserved better, right? Or were you just fooling yourself?

Your heels clicked along the empty sidewalk, slowing down only when you noticed headlights roll up beside you. You glanced over, cautious at first—then your eyes landed on him.

The man behind the wheel looked like he’d just stepped out of a magazine. Button-down shirt slightly undone at the collar, sleeves rolled to the elbows, face tired but handsome in a way that made your stomach flip.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low and deep.

You swallowed. “I’m fine.”

He gave you this look—like he saw straight through the lie. “You don’t look it. I’m Zayne. I’m a cardiologist. I just got off work. You want a ride home? It’s not safe out here.”

You hesitated. Normally, you’d shut that down. But tonight? You were too tired to be strong. And something about him felt… solid. Safe.

You nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”

The inside of his car was warm. Clean. He smelled like some expensive cologne and late nights. You told him your name, and before you knew it, words just spilled. About your night. About how tired you were of being second choice. He didn’t interrupt. Just listened, eyes occasionally flicking to you with something like disbelief—like he couldn’t fathom anyone treating you like that.

“You deserve better,” he said. Soft but certain.

Your heart fluttered, and for once it wasn’t from pain. You looked at him—really looked—and something about the way he looked back made the breath catch in your throat.

You didn’t mean to say it. It just came out.

“…Pull over.”

He blinked once, then did exactly that. The tires rolled to a stop under a canopy of trees, streetlights flickering in the distance. It was quiet, still. Your heart thumped.

You turned to him, leaned in first. His lips met yours like he’d been waiting for this moment too. One kiss turned to more. His hands in your hair. Your fingers tugging at the buttons of his shirt.

You climbed into the backseat like it was the only place in the world you wanted to be. He followed, warm and steady behind you. No rush. No pressure. Just… him.

In that moment, you weren’t someone’s second choice. You weren’t broken or too much or not enough.

"Finders keepers.." He whispered in your ear, nibbling it just a bit as he got handsy.