MidReal Story
Forbidden Desires
Scenario: Cora's scumbag fiance ended their engagement after her family went bankrupt. Seeking solace, she went to a bar and slept with the richest man in the city, who just also happens to be the scumbag's uncle!
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I’m not sure how I ended up in this grimy bar, but there’s nothing I want more than to get lost in the bottom of a bottle.
Today should’ve been one of the best days of my life, but it ended up being the exact opposite.
In the cruelest way possible, the man I loved with all my heart threw me away like yesterday’s garbage.
The funny part is trash was all I ever was to him.
He made that crystal clear today.
I’d been with Ethan since high school, and he was the only guy I’d ever given my heart to, which is why it broke into a million pieces when he ripped it out of my chest this morning.
He blamed me for my family’s bankruptcy and said he never wanted anything to do with a broke girl like me.
We were supposed to be getting married in a few months.
I’d already picked out my wedding dress and we’d started looking at houses.
He made all these promises to me, and I believed him.
But the truth is, he never loved me.
Not like I loved him.
My chest constricts and I take another swig from the glass of whiskey that sits in front of me, hoping the burn will help numb the terrible ache inside.
I don’t even like whiskey that much, but the bartender is too busy playing on his phone to notice what I ordered.
And this works just fine because at this point, the only thing that matters is forgetting everything that happened today.
I lift the glass again and bring it to my lips when the ding of the door opening catches my attention.
A man strides inside, and my eyes automatically widen as he closes the door behind him.
In an instant, whatever oxygen there is in this place disappears into nothingness, and all that’s left inside …
It’s him.
A man who looks like he’s dressed to the nines, but in the most subtle way possible, with a dark suit that hugs his broad shoulders perfectly, and a crisp, white shirt underneath.
His dark hair is perfectly styled, and each strand shines in the dim light of the bar.
My gaze continues down his body, taking in every detail, from the shiny black leather shoes to the way his long legs stretch out the creases in his slacks.
It’s as if the air around him is different, thicker, heavier, and I can’t help but feel pulled toward him as my body warms.
The last thing I want to do is look at another man today, but I can’t help it when my eyes are glued to this one.
And it’s not just me because even the bartender takes his eyes off his phone and watches the man approach the bar with something akin to respect on his face.