Page 28 of Perfectly Wrong

“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad it did. At least it forced you to slow down.”

I was furious. That asshole Rento had crossed a line, pushing Elena like this. And Jeremy? I was pissed at him too, for making her work herself to the bone. And me? I was mad at myself for not being there when she needed me. I’d been in California, but I could’ve at least called more often, been a better support.

“I could snap back at you right now, but I know you’re right. I’m relieved it happened too. At least now I’ll look a bit better when I present the marketing plan tomorrow.”

I leaned against the counter, watching her closely. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you,” I murmured. “Maybe I couldn’t have done much, but at least I’d have known what was going on. I could’ve cooked for you or made sure you ate.”

Elena set down the last pancake and turned off the stove. When she looked at me, there was something different in her eyes, something I couldn’t quite read.

“We weren’t speaking,” she reminded me with a shrug.

“Why?” I asked quietly.

“Because you’re stubborn and can’t accept our limits. You act like it’s no big deal for us to be seen together, like people wouldn’t notice.”

“You overthink it. Our personal lives are just that—personal.” I pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. She hugged me back, resting her head on my chest.

“I’m trying to protect both of us, Sam. We’ve worked too hard to risk it all. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us to lose everything we’ve built.” She tilted her head up, her eyes locking with mine. “Please try to understand. If you can’t keep this quiet, the only way we can move forward is apart. I’ve already blurred the lines by making your project personal. I’m pushing myself and my team harder than ever. Don’t ask for more than I can give right now. It’s all I’ve got.”

I glanced up, silently begging for some kind of sign. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

“You’ve given me love, then taken it back / Let me taste you and hold you / then out of nowhere, just pain, you turned your back.” I sang, feeling her whole body shake with laughter.

“Stop using your songs to mess with me,” she teased. When I looked down, Elena had that smile—the one I loved the most. It lit up her whole face, lifting her cheeks and making her eyes crinkle at the corners.

“I love that you know all my lyrics.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s called research, Martin.”

“Sure, let’s go with that.” I kissed her forehead. I wanted to say I loved her, that I was completely obsessed with her, but I knew it wouldn’t go well.

“Let’s finish breakfast. You still owe me a round of wild sex, and I’m not letting you off the hook!” She pulled away and went back to the stove, effortlessly brushing off any talk about us, like she always did.

But right then, I didn’t care. If keeping things secret was the only way I could have her, I was fine with it. Someone once said that a little bit is better than nothing at all, and I couldn’t agree more.

Chapter eight

I had no idea what was going on with me. Ever since my marriage ended, I’d sworn off any kind of commitment, determined to focus on my career and myself. It had been the perfect opportunity to break some old habits and put my life back on track.

Then a nineteen-year-old came along and turned everything upside down, leaving me crying on the couch after saying goodbye. Sam was on his way to Jamaica to finish his album, and I was at home, missing him already. And he’d only been gone for twenty minutes! The worst part? I knew he’d be back in a couple of weeks, just in time for Christmas and his sister’s graduation. There was absolutely no reason for me to feel like this.

We’d spent most of the weekend together. When he wasn’t visiting his parents, he was at my place, showing me pictures and asking for my opinion on how to decorate his new apartment.

I glanced at the time on my phone—5:30 a.m. on a Thursday, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I decided to make a cup of the tea Sam had bought for us to try. When I got to the kitchen, I found a note on the counter.

Don’t forget to eat and try not to miss me too much! SM

Honestly, if there was a contest for the sweetest person, Sam would win, no doubt. He was so caring, always putting everyone else’s needs before his own. His fans, his family, his friends—they all came first. And for the first time, I felt both full and empty inside. Full of love and gratitude for him, for how he brought a new kind of joy and excitement into my life. Empty because I knew we’d never be able to live our relationship to its fullest. He was young, free, travelling the world, meeting new people, and discovering new things. Someday, he’d meet a girl his age who could keep up with all his adventures, someone without a messy past weighing her down.

And I’d just go on with my life, dealing with my own issues, working hard—both professionally and mentally—to get over him. All I could hope was that he’d look back on our time together with fondness.

I filled the kettle and leaned against the kitchen counter—the same one where we’d had sex for the first time. I grinned at the memory, biting my lip. Things between us had started with a misunderstanding, leading to him singing and practically stalking me around town. Then we’d ended up in bed, again and again, until I’d lost count. We’d had some heated arguments too—he was stubborn and, at times, maddeningly immature. But he brought a breath of fresh air into my life.

The kettle clicked, signalling the water was ready. I poured it into a mug and added the tea bag, then heard a ping from my phone. I walked over to the couch and picked it up.

I know I told you not to miss me, but I miss you already.

I smiled at the screen.

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