Page 2 of Grateful Hearts

“Fuck you!” She told him as she tore herself free from his grasp and ran out the door. She bolted down the hallway to the stairs, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to holdback her tears. Every step she took felt like it carried her further from the life she had thought was real. By the time she burst out onto the street, tears were streaming down her face. Her phone buzzed nonstop in her hand, Mario’s name lighting up the screen over and over. But she didn’t care. She ignored every call, every message.

Her mind spun as she sprinted toward her apartment, which was a little over a mile away.How could he do this to me?They’d been together for three years. She had loved him, trusted him. Hell, she had built her life around him. And now, in a blink of an eye, it was all gone. All because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.

When she finally reached her apartment, she slammed the door behind her and collapsed onto the floor. Her sobs came hard and fast, wracking her entire body as she buried her face in her hands. She cried for what felt like hours, the betrayal cutting deeper with every passing moment.

Eventually, when the tears had run dry, Chantel sat there, hollow and exhausted. She had no one to call. There were no friends outside of work. She had no family. All she had was Mario, and now, even that was gone.

Her mind searched for a solution, something—anything—that would get her out of this city, away from the wreckage of her life. She wiped her face as she picked herself up off the ground. She walked over to her couch and grabbed her laptop. After booting it up, she started searching for places to go. She needed space. She needed to disappear, at least for a while.

As she scrolled through potential destinations: Miami, Los Angeles, and New York, one finally caught her eye—Gatlinburg, Tennessee.She’d never been, but she’d always wanted to visit the mountains. It seemed like the perfect place to clear her head and figure out what to do next. Without a second thought, she looked at flights and found one that got her to Knoxville and leftearly the following day. Knoxville was close enough. She could rent a car and drive the rest of the way.

After booking her flight, rental car, and hotel, she closed her laptop. Her heart was hardened. Mario’s betrayal was unforgivable. There was no going back. Now, she needed to figure out how to move forward.

???

Mario walked back toward his bedroom. He slumped against the bedroom door, his heart pounding in a way it hadn’t in years. Chantel’s expression, that split-second look of betrayal and heartbreak before she turned and bolted, was burned into his mind. He clenched his fists in frustration, muttering a curse under his breath. He’d screwed up badly.

And for what?

He glanced over his shoulder at the bed. The rumpled sheets told the story of the night before and this morning, but now it felt like a mistake written in bold letters. Tatiana, a long-time friend and business associate, had been his ticket to the expansion he’d been working toward for the last year. She was loaded, connected, and interested in more than just his restaurant. But last night, over too many cocktails and easy laughter, business had turned into something much messier.

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. It wasn’t like he’d been drunk or out of control. He knew exactly what he was doing when he invited her upstairs. Hell, he’d even justified it to himself. It was for the restaurant, for his future. But none of that mattered now. Not when Chantel had walked in and found them in bed together.

“Chantel…” he muttered, his voice breaking with regret.

When she slammed the door and ran, he wanted to chase her down, but with nothing but a thin blanket covering his nakedbody, he couldn’t exactly sprint after her. Not that it would’ve helped. Chantel had been faster, fueled by anger and heartbreak. And now she was gone.

Mario pushed off the door and stalked back toward the bed. Tatiana was already sitting on the edge, pulling her dress back on with trembling hands. She looked up at him, her expression a mix of guilt and worry.

“I… I didn’t mean for this to happen, Mario,” she said softly, her voice shaky. “I thought—”

He held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t. It’s not just on you. I knew better, and I let it happen anyway.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t even know what I was thinking.”

Tatiana stood, smoothing her dress as she stepped into her heels. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to cause problems for you and Chantel.”

Mario barked a bitter laugh. “Problems? This is way beyond ‘problems,’ Tati. You saw her face. She’s not going to forgive me for this.”

Tatiana bit her lip and glanced toward the door. “Maybe she will. She loves you, right?”

Mario didn’t answer immediately. He thought about Chantel—sweet, hardworking Chantel, who had poured her heart and soul into his restaurant. She was more than just his executive chef. She was the backbone of the entire operation. Her menus had put them on the map. Her passion had driven the staff to excellence. Without her, he wouldn’t be where he was today.

And now? He’d thrown it all away.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low. “She loves me. Or she did.”

Tatiana shifted uncomfortably. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think this is worth ruining things over. I mean, it was just one night.”

Mario shot her a sharp look. “It wasn’t just one night, Tatiana. She’s not just some girl I’m dating. She’s everything—my chef, my partner… she’s my future.” He exhaled sharply and shook his head. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

Tatiana grabbed her purse and hesitated in the doorway. “Well, I hope you figure it out. And for what it’s worth, the deal’s still on the table. I believe in your vision, Mario.”

Mario didn’t respond. He barely noticed when she left, closing the door quietly behind her. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his phone. Chantel was gone, but she hadn’t blocked him. Yet. That had to mean something, right?

He tapped her number, letting the phone ring. Once. Twice. Straight to voicemail. He cursed and tried again but got the same result. She wasn’t going to answer, and honestly, he didn’t blame her.

“Fine,” he muttered, tossing the phone onto the bed. He’d see her later that night.

She’d have to come back to the restaurant eventually. It wasn’t just her job. The restaurant was her life. She didn’t have anyone else, not really. No family. No close friends. Chantel’s world revolved around him and the restaurant, whether she wanted to admit it or not. She needed him, and she’d realize that soon enough.

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