Chapter 1

Sara

I stepped out into the cool evening air, my heels clicking against the pavement as I made my way to meet my boyfriend, Matt. The streetlights flickered to life, casting long shadows across the sidewalk.

A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the scent of blooming jasmine. I inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet aroma. It reminded me of the perfume Matt had given me for our anniversary last year. The memory made me smile, but it quickly faded as I remembered why I was meeting him tonight.

My phone buzzed in my purse, interrupting my thoughts. I fished it out, fumbling with the zipper. "Stupid tiny purse," I muttered. "Who designed you, a chipmunk?"

The screen lit up with my friend Jessica's grinning face—a selfie she'd taken after one too many margaritas on last girls' night out.

"Speak of the devil," I muttered, swiping to answer. "Jess, what's up?"

"Sara! Thank God you answered. Listen, I'm having a crisis."

"What kind of crisis are we talking about? Did you run out of that overpriced face cream again?"

"Worse! I'm bored out of my mind. Want to grab a drink? I found this new place that does these amazing cotton candy martinis. They're like diabetes in a glass, but so worth it."

"As tempting as that sounds, I can't. I'm on my way to see Matt. I haven't seen him properly in weeks. I need to talk to him."

There was a pause on the other end. "Is everything okay?"

I sighed, kicking a pebble as I walked. "I don't know. He's been... distant lately. Always busy with work or too tired to hang out. I'm starting to wonder if he's allergic to my presence or something."

"You need to talk to him. Find out what's going on. Communication is key, right? That's what all those cheesy relationship gurus say."

"Yeah, I guess." I kicked another pebble, imagining it was Matt's head. Childish? Maybe. Satisfying? Absolutely.

"Promise me you'll talk to him tonight. No chickening out!"

"Yes, mom. I promise I'll use my big girl words and everything."

"Good. And hey, speaking of things that'll make you feel better – have you heard about the new corporate finance professor?"

I frowned. "No, why would that make me feel better?"

"Because, my dear Sara, rumor has it he's drop-dead gorgeous. Like, 'I'd actually show up to an 8 AM class for him' hot."

"Jess, you realize he's still just a professor, right? No matter how hot he is, he's there to teach, not be eye candy for thirsty students."

"Oh, come on! Don't be such a buzzkill. If he's that handsome, I might have to pursue him myself. Who says learning can't be fun?"

"You're impossible," I laughed, shaking my head. "Besides, aren't you worried about the whole student-teacher power dynamic? It's kinda creepy. And I'm not interested in dating older professors. Period."

"But what if he's young?"

"Still no. I'm not interested in professors, young or old, hot or not. End of story."

"Fine, fine," she conceded. "But when you're sitting in class, bored out of your mind, don't come crying to me about missed opportunities."

"Trust me, I won't," I assured her, stopping at a crosswalk. "The only thing I'll cry about in class is my GPA."

"Speaking of crying," Jessica said, her tone shifting, "are you sure you're okay? You know, with the whole Matt situation?"

I sighed, watching the traffic light change. "I don't know. I guess I'll find out soon enough."

"Well, if things go south, remember – there's always that hot professor waiting in the wings."

"Goodbye, Jessica," I said firmly, but I couldn't help smiling.

"Love you, babe! Call me later!"

I hung up, shaking my head as I crossed the street. Leave it to Jessica to try to set me up with a professor I'd never met. Sometimes, I wondered if she lived in the same reality as the rest of us.

As I approached the restaurant where I was meeting Matt, my stomach twisted into knots. What if he was breaking up with me? What if he'd met someone else?

I smoothed down my dress, suddenly wishing I'd worn something sexier.

The restaurant's warm glow spilled onto the sidewalk, beckoning me inside. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever awaited me. Just as I reached for the door handle, my phone buzzed.

It was Matt.

Matt: Sara, I'm so sorry. Something came up at work. Rain check? I promise I'll make it up to you later. We'll spend the night together. Love you.

I stared at the screen, my emotions ping-ponging between relief and frustration. On one hand, he wasn't breaking up with me. On the other, he'd stood me up. Again. I got all dolled up for nothing. I should have taken Jessica up on those cotton candy martinis after all.

I looked down at my outfit—a cute little black dress that hugged my curves in all the right places, paired with heels that made my legs look a mile long. All this effort was wasted on the indifferent gaze of passersby and a wayward pigeon eyeing my shoes suspiciously.

"Don't even think about it, bird brain," I warned the pigeon. It cocked its head as if to say, "Challenge accepted."

As I walked home, my mind wandered to Matt's promise to 'make it up to me' later. A small thrill ran through me at the thought. Despite his recent distant behavior, Matt could be attentive when he wanted to be.

I remembered our last night together, how his hands had roamed my body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. How his lips trailed down my neck made me shiver with anticipation. The feel of his—

"Whoa there, tiger," I muttered, feeling my cheeks flush. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. He's got to show up first."

Still, the promise of a passionate night together lifted my spirits slightly. This wasn't a total loss after all. I'd have time to prepare, to slip into something more enticing than this dress.

I grinned, already planning my outfit. Or lack thereof. Matt wouldn't know what hit him.

When I reached my apartment, my feet were screaming for mercy. I kicked off my heels, sighing in relief as my toes sank into the plush carpet.

I flopped onto the couch, sprawling out like a starfish. My dress rode up, revealing a generous amount of thigh, but who cared? I was blissfully alone in my apartment. No prying eyes, no judgments. Just me, my thoughts, and the blessed silence.

I closed my eyes, ready to drift off into a pizza-and-wine-induced coma, when my phone rang. The shrill tone pierced through the quiet, making me jump.

The screen lit up with a name I hadn't seen in ages. Claire? My high school bestie? We hadn't spoken in... well, longer than I cared to admit. What could she want?

I answered, my voice a blend of shock and eagerness. "Claire? Is that really you?"

"Sara! Oh my God, it's been forever!" Her voice crackled through the speaker, warm and familiar.

I sat up, smoothing down my dress. "To what do I owe this blast from the past?"

"Oh, you know, just checking in on my favorite partner in crime," she chuckled. "How are you holding up with the whole Matt situation?"

I frowned, confused. "Matt situation? What are you talking about?"

"The breakup, silly. Don't tell me you're still in denial."

"I hate to break it to you, but Matt and I are still very much together. In fact, we were supposed to meet for dinner tonight, but he got caught up at work."

There was a long pause on the other end. So long, I thought the call had dropped.

"Claire? You still there?"

"Sara..." Her voice was hesitant, almost pained. "I don't know how to tell you this, but Matt's already dating someone. Victoria. I just saw them together at a pub."

My heart dropped into my stomach. "What? No, that's impossible. You must be mistaken."

"I wish I was, honey. But I've got proof."

My phone buzzed with incoming messages. With shaking hands, I put Claire on speaker and opened them.

"Oh. My. God." The words escaped my lips in a strangled whisper.

Matt was on my screen. My Matt. With his arms wrapped around a stunning redhead, their bodies pressed so close you couldn't slide a credit card between them. And that was just the first photo.