Page 7 of Only Ever Mine

“It’s like you’re married to that damn restaurant,”he snapped one night when I came home late after a health inspection ran over.“I don’t even know why I bother making plans anymore. You’re just going to cancel.”

I’d stood there in the kitchen, exhausted and still smelling faintly of garlic, staring at the man I thought I’d spend my life with and realizing that he resented me.

Things didn’t improve after that. We tried, or at least I did.

I took the occasional night off, tried to focus more on our relationship, but it was never enough for him.

The problem wasn’t just that I was busy—it was that he needed to be the center of my world, and I couldn’t give him that.

Eventually, the distance between us grew too wide to bridge.

He started staying out later, making excuses for why he couldn’t come to my events or support me when I needed him most.

And then came the night I found out why.

I’ll never forget the moment I walked into that bar and saw him, arms wrapped around someone else like I hadn’t even existed.

She was younger, carefree, probably someone who didn’t have a thousand responsibilities weighing her down.

He didn’t even try to deny it when I confronted him.“Maybe if you’d paid more attention to me, I wouldn’t have had to look somewhere else,”he said, his voice cold and cutting.

It was like a punch to the gut.

I’d built my life on the idea that hard work and passion could overcome anything, but in that moment, I realized that love wasn’t immune to resentment and neglect.

After that, I swore I’d never let someone make me feel small again. I threw myself into my work with a vengeance, pouring every ounce of my energy into Amélie.

If I was going to be alone, at least I’d have something to show for it.

And that’s why I couldn’t let myself get distracted by someone like Christian.

Sure, he was gorgeous, and there was something undeniably magnetic about him. But I knew how these things went.

Men like him—rich, powerful, used to getting what they wanted—didn’t stick around for women like me.

They wanted someone who could drop everything for them, someone who didn’t have a life of her own. And I wasn’t that woman. I couldn’t be.

The memory of Aaron still lingered, a quiet reminder of what could happen when I let myself get too close to someone.

I couldn’t afford to make the same mistake twice.

So, no matter how tempting Christian Valen was, I had to keep my focus.

My restaurant needed me, my staff counted on me, and I wasn’t about to let anyone—not even him—derail the life I’d built.

When I finally dragged myself to bed, exhausted and hoping for the kind of deep, dreamless sleep that only came after days like today, Christian invaded my thoughts one last time.

The dream was vivid, almost painfully so.

I was back at the gala, but it was different. The room was empty, the lights dim, the air heavy with anticipation.

Christian stood across from me, his eyes locked on mine, his expression unreadable.

“You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

I wanted to respond, to say something clever or dismissive, but the words caught in my throat.

He took a step closer, then another, until the space between us was almost nonexistent.

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