I don't even have time to breathe after Clarissa leaves my apartment.
My heart is still racing. My palms are still sweating. My mind is still running through every venom-laced word she threw at me.
I'm still trying to steady myself when there's another knock.
A softer one.
A familiar one.
My stomach drops.
I already know who it is.
I open the door slowly… and find Edward standing there, looking like he sprinted all the way here.
His hair is disheveled, his jaw tense, his chest rising hard with each breath.
But when he sees my face his eyes widen with worry.
"What happened?" he asks immediately, stepping inside.
"Leah… why do you look like that?"
"Your fiancée happened," I say flatly.
He freezes.
Completely freezes.
Then his expression darkens into something lethal.
"She came here?"
His voice is low, dangerous, shaking with barely-contained anger.
I cross my arms. "Oh, she came. With diamonds, perfume, and a big mouth."
He clenches his fists. "What did she say to you?"
I laugh a little sharp, bitter.
"Where do I start?"
Before he can respond
before he can demand details or wrap his arms around me
the door bursts open again.
I whip around.
Edward does too.
And in she walks.
Clarissa.
Hair shimmering. Dress perfect. Eyes blazing.
She didn't knock.
She didn't ask.
She storms into my apartment like she's entitled to my floor, my air, my space, my man.
I see red.
"Get out," I say immediately.
Clarissa doesn't even look at me.
Her gaze is on Edward.
And her smile is vicious.
"Edward," she purrs. "I thought I'd find you here."
He steps in front of me instantly like instinct like protection.
"Clarissa," he says through clenched teeth, "you're crossing a line."
She arches a brow. "I was told you'd talk to me. You lied."
He moves closer to her, voice dropping. "You don't get to show up uninvited. Not here. Not ever."
Her eyes flick to me then back to him, and something cold slides over her expression.
"Oh, please," she scoffs. "I'm not scared of this little… situation."
My jaw tightens.
She glances at me, lips curling.
"Step aside, older woman."
My lungs stop working.
Edward goes rigid.
Clarissa keeps going
because she can't help herself.
Because she didn't come to talk.
She came to destroy.
"Let the adults discuss important matters," she says sweetly.
"Go bake a cake or… whatever it is divorced women do."
I almost slap her.
Edward steps forward, fists clenched.
"Don't talk to her like that!"
She tilts her head. "I'll talk to her however I want. She's the one who should step aside. She's the past. I" she points to herself "am the future."
I laugh but it's not a friendly laugh.
It's the type that means I'm seconds away from getting violent.
"Sweetheart," I say calmly, "if you think age is my weakness, you've miscalculated."
She narrows her eyes.
"Women like you always cling to younger men to feel relevant."
Edward growls. "Clarissa"
"No," I say, raising a hand.
"She wants to talk? We'll talk."
I step around Edward.
I stand right in front of her.
Face to face.
Woman to woman.
Threat to threat.
"What exactly do you think you're doing here?" I ask quietly.
Clarissa smirks.
"Taking back what's mine."
"Edward was never yours."
"His family says otherwise."
"You speak for his father," I say.
"I speak for him."
Her smile falters.
But she quickly replaces it.
"Edward needs a woman with status," she says.
"Not a used one."
My palm tingles with the urge to hit her.
"Clarissa," I say slowly, "you should leave before this gets ugly."
"Oh, it's already ugly," she sneers.
"He's young, Leah. He's successful. He's wealthy. He's wanted. And you look at you."
She gestures to my oversized shirt.
"Pathetic. Desperate. Old."
Edward steps forward, but I hold up my hand.
This one is mine.
"You think a designer dress makes you a woman?" I ask her.
"You think diamond earrings make you powerful?"
Her nostrils flare. "I know I'm everything he needs."
"No," I say calmly.
"You're everything his father wants."
Her mouth opens and closes.
I strike again.
"But Edward?" I touch my chest. "He wants something real. Honest. Human. And that scares you."
She scoffs. "He wants you for now. He'll want me forever."
"You keep telling yourself that," I reply.
"But we both know you came here because you realized he doesn't want you at all."
She stiffens, eyes flashing with fury.
"You think you're better than me?" she hisses.
"No," I say simply. "But I'm better for him."
Her lips tremble. "He belongs in my world."
"Then why is he in my home?"
Edward steps beside me now, his voice steady and sharp.
"Clarissa," he says, "I'm going to say this once and only once. I am not marrying you. I never agreed to it. I never wanted it. And I will never want it."
She stares at him, stunned.
"No," she whispers. "You're confused. Your father"
"My father doesn't control my life."
His voice is steel. "And he doesn't choose who I love."
Clarissa's breath stutters.
"You… love… her?"
Edward doesn't hesitate.
"More than anything."
The words hit the room like a bomb.
Clarissa staggers back as if physically struck.
Her eyes fill not with tears but with pure rage.
"This isn't over," she spits.
"You'll regret choosing her."
Edward steps forward, shielding me with his body.
"No," he says firmly.
"I'll regret ever speaking to you again."
Her face twists with fury.
She turns to me, pointing a trembling finger.
"You're ruining everything."
"No," I reply softly.
"I'm just not letting you steal what was never yours."
She lets out a frustrated scream quiet but sharp.
Then she storms out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her so hard the walls shake.
Silence falls again.
But this time, it's different.
Tense.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Edward exhales slowly, rubbing a hand over his face.
"Leah," he whispers, "are you okay?"
I look at him.
Really look at him.
The worry in his eyes.
The anger still simmering under his skin.
The love he didn't hide.
And suddenly, the insult"Step aside, older woman"
feels small.
Not harmless.
But powerless.
"I'm fine," I say quietly.
He steps closer.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Then I add, "Because she can't scare me away."
His eyes soften. "She doesn't deserve to even breathe the same air as you."
I touch his cheek gently.
"We'll face her together."
He presses his forehead to mine, breathing me in.
And for the first time since Clarissa entered the picture…
I feel certain.
Not careless.
Not naive.
But sure.
Sure of us.
Sure of him.
Sure of what we're fighting for.
Sure that love and not fear will win this battle.