Page 77 of One Little Mistake

He’s lounging back in his chair, glass raised lazily to his lips that were on mine just moments ago.

I look away. Can’t take it. Have I ever felt this before? I’ve been charmed before. Sure. Nervous, even. But this ache, this flutter in my chest—this is new. Maybe I felt something similar when I met Tim’s father.

Once.

But not like this.

I stare at the city lights outside the window, my insides a hurricane of emotion.

I don’t know what this is. Gratitude? Something more? And how is it even possible to fall so fast, so hard to forget someone else so completely?

A slow song begins to play. Someone turns up the volume. It pulls me out of my haze. Logan walks up to Vivienne and takes her hand. Others follow.

I watch them, swaying together, warm and smiling. And then I see Max. He’s coming toward me—slow, sure steps—and my pulse spikes.

I don’t know where to look. What to do. One moment I’m melting in his arms like I’ve been his for years, and the next—I can’t even meet his eyes.

Max stops right in front of me, looks down, and extends his hand. I place my palm in his, warm and steady. He leads me to the center of the room and interlaces our fingers.

I rest my other hand on his shoulder and look straight into his eyes. And just like that I’m drowning. He leads me in the dance if you can even call it that.

We simply sway, slowly, gently, closer and closer with each breath. Everything about it feels right. Familiar. Like we’ve done this a thousand times before. Like we’ve known each other for decades, maybe even longer.

“You look incredible tonight,” Max murmurs in a husky voice. “Did I already say that?”

“Maybe,” I nod, a little flustered.

Another pause.

“How’s the new place?”

“Better than I expected.”

I can sense he’s just as thrown off by this pull between us as I am. He doesn’t know what to say, what to do, despite how confident and intimidating he usually seems. And I get it. I’m a complicated woman with someone else’s child.

That’s a lot.

The song fades. I exhale in quiet disappointment; I could’ve danced with Max for hours. Just us. No interruptions. No space between us.

But he doesn’t let go of my hand.

Even as the others move away and the room quiets, we stay right where we are, locked in a silent gaze. There’s something unspoken crackling between us.

And all I can think about is how much I wish we were alone. So I could truly feel what it’s like to be touched by a man again. To be seen. Desired. Held.

But it’s not meant to be.

At least not tonight.

“It’s getting late. I should head home, get some rest,” I say. But I don’t move.

“I’ll grab Tim. Walk you out,” Max replies after a beat, and turns toward the nursery.

I find Vivienne to say goodbye.

“You two are perfect together,” she whispers. “You didn’t cross paths by accident. Trust me—things like this don’t just happen. Don’t waste your chance. Don’t let a good man slip away.”

“I don’t know…” I admit. “Tim’s father… he…”

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