A SECOND CHANCE AT FOREVER Chapter 25: CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

ASHLEY

Oh well, out of the five days I have left in New York, I’m spending one of them with Ethan—again. A proper goodbye, he said.

I fiddled with the delicate pendant resting against my collarbone as the elevator ascended, the soft hum filling the silence between us. Ethan stood beside me, effortlessly charming in his tailored black suit, his tie slightly loosened in that casual, careless way that somehow made him look even more polished.

He was taking me to a gala uptown—“Much nicer than just eating out at a restaurant,” he’d assured me with that confident smile—and I’d dressed for the occasion in a midnight-blue silk gown that hugged me in all the right places, paired with silver jewelry that shimmered under the elevator’s soft lights. It felt like overkill for what was technically our second date, but after how disastrous the first one was, I was determined not to screw this up.

Ethan’s eyes drifted from the floor numbers flashing above to me, lingering for a moment. “You look beautiful,” he said softly, his gaze warm, yet filled with something I couldn’t quite place.

I smiled, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself,” I replied.

The elevator chimed softly, the doors gliding open to reveal a breathtaking ballroom bathed in golden light. Crystal chandeliers hung from vaulted ceilings like frozen constellations, casting delicate patterns on the polished marble floor. Waiters moved seamlessly through the crowd, balancing trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres, their movements as rehearsed as the string quartet playing in the corner. The room hummed with effortless sophistication, the air tinged with the faint scent of roses and expensive perfume.

Ethan gently placed his hand on the small of my back as we stepped into the crowd, his touch was  unsettling but I swallowed it down.

No bad energy tonight

“Let’s find a quieter spot,” he murmured.

I simply nodded, letting him guide me through clusters of people dressed in glittering gowns and tailored tuxedos. Eventually, we settled at a small round table tucked near one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city stretched out beyond the glass—New York in all its chaotic, brilliant glory, lights flickering like distant stars.

Ethan pulled out a chair for me before sitting across from me.

“So,” he began, loosening his tie a little more. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

I tilted my head, arching a brow. “Like what?”

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Anything. Something you’d tell a stranger because you know you’ll probably never see them again.”

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, forcing a casual smile. “Okay. Um… I’m terrified of birds.”

Ethan chuckled, leaning forward with interest. “Birds? Like, all birds?”

I nodded. “Especially the small, fast ones. They’re shifty. You can’t trust anything that moves that quickly without a clear purpose.”

He laughed. “Noted. No surprise parrot for your birthday, then.”

I laughed too, shaking my head. “Definitely not.”

He took a sip of his drink, his eyes lingering on me over the rim of his glass. “Okay, my turn. I’ve never told anyone this, but… I tried to start a band in college.”

I nearly choked on my champagne. “You? A band?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, laughing. “We were terrible. Like, truly awful. I played the drums—badly—and we thought we were going to be the next big thing. We had exactly one gig, and it ended with the mic stand falling over mid-song.”

“You’re really leaving,” he said quietly, his voice softer than before, almost hesitant.

I exhaled a slow sigh. “Yeah. I only came for my friend, and now that she’s okay… I need to head back.”

Ethan leaned in slightly, closing the space between us. His usual charm was replaced with something raw, something real. His gaze held mine, unguarded. “I wish I’d met you sooner.”

Every instinct screamed for me to move—to shift back, to laugh it off, to create space before things slipped into territory I wasn’t ready to navigate. But I didn’t. I stayed rooted, heart pounding, not out of anticipation but something closer to curiosity. A chance to know I'm not crazy.

“Well, you did meet me,” I replied, forcing my voice to stay steady. “That counts for something.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head like he was disappointed with my answer. “It’s not enough.”

His words lingered, heavy and unspoken between us. Our eyes locked, and I knew—I knew—what was coming next. I should’ve pulled away, should’ve deflected with a joke, but instead, I let it happen.

I needed to know.

I needed to prove to myself that Kyle didn’t have this invisible thread tied around my heart. The kiss with Kyle had stirred something I thought was buried, emotions I wasn’t ready to unpack. Maybe this would be the reset button I needed.

Ethan leaned in slowly, his hand resting lightly against my cheek as if giving me every chance to back away. But I didn’t. His lips met mine in a kiss that was soft, deliberate, filled with the kind of tenderness I knew should’ve meant something.

But it didn’t.

I kissed him back, hoping—desperate—to feel something. A spark.  A shift. But there was nothing. I tried to lose myself in the moment, hoping to feel the flutters in my stomach that once accompanied such intimacy. But instead, I was met with an emptiness that made me wish the kiss would end.

I pulled away abruptly, my breath uneven, my heart racing for all the wrong reasons.

Ethan grinned, clearly oblivious to the storm inside me. “Damn,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against my jaw. “That was… hot.”

I forced a smile, the kind that didn’t reach my eyes. The unsettling truth settled over me like a suffocating blanket—it wasn’t. Nothing about the kiss was hot.

Before I could fully process the emptiness gnawing at me, an eerie sensation prickled the back of my neck—a cold, piercing stare, sharp enough to slice through the dim, golden ambiance of the gala. My heart skipped, then stumbled.

No. It is not possible.

It is nothing.

There was no way he’d be here. It was a Tuesday night—he’d be holed up in his office, drowning in contracts and mergers.

But I turned anyway.

Slowly, like peeling back a bandage you know will hurt, my gaze lifted—and there he was.

Kyle.

Broad shoulders wrapped in a tailored charcoal suit, every inch of him exuding the same effortless authority. His devastatingly handsome face was carved into a mask of indifference, but his eyes—those burning eyes were locked on me… and on Ethan’s hand on my jaw

“Kyle,” I said flatly, not bothering to mask the edge in my voice.

Across the table, Ethan’s posture shifted subtly, his eyes flicking between us with dawning comprehension. I’d mentioned the divorce once, a brief, dismissive footnote in our conversations. But now, I could practically see him connecting the dots.. There was something else in his gaze too—a flicker of recognition that tightened the corners of his mouth. I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew Kyle. Everyone knew Kyle.

“What a coincidence running into you here,” I said stiffly. “We’re in the middle of something, so if there’s something you’d like to discuss, we can do it later.”

Kyle’s jaw tightened, a muscle ticking like a clock counting down to an inevitable explosion. “I see that.” His voice was low, smooth, but threaded with an edge sharp enough to draw blood. He glanced at Ethan briefly, then back to me, his gaze a silent accusation. “I was just passing by… thought I saw a familiar face. Turns out, I was right.”

His pause was deliberate, heavy with unspoken words. He didn’t need to say it—I knew exactly what he meant. He’d seen us. Kissing.

For a brief, treacherous moment, guilt flickered in my chest, burning hot and fast. But I crushed it.

We’re not together anymore. He was just a man I used to love.

Kyle’s eyes darkened, and before I could muster another dismissive remark, he added, “Actually, I left my cufflinks here last week. Thought I’d check with the staff.”

Seriously? That was his excuse? A man who never forgot a detail—never misplaced anything—now suddenly remembered missing cufflinks?

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my spine straightening, refusing to let him see the storm raging beneath my carefully crafted calm. For a second, I thought he’d linger, maybe push further. But then, he turned and walked away without another word.

The moment he disappeared into the crowd, my breath escaped in a shaky rush, like I’d been holding it hostage.

“I’m sorry about that,” I said quickly, turning back to Ethan and plastering on another brittle smile. “He can be a little… intense.”

Ethan’s lips quirked into a small, amused grin, his eyes still glinting with something unreadable. “That’s all right. I’m guessing that was the infamous ex-husband?”

“What gave it away? The rude interruption? The death glare?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, it’s not that. And, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable with the kiss. I meant what I said—I really enjoyed it, and I do like you. But I get it—you’re leaving soon, and maybe you’re not in the right space for anything more. That’s okay.” He pause. “So, I’ll stick to not expecting anything from tonight other than a nice evening with someone whose company I genuinely enjoy. Maybe things will change down the road, maybe they won’t. But for now, let’s just take things at face value. How does that sound?”

His words were simple, unassuming. But they were exactly what I needed to hear.

And for the first time that evening, the knot in my chest loosened.

“That sounds perfect,” I replied softly.

But somewhere deep inside, I knew the storm named Kyle wasn’t done with me yet.