She stood beside the on-site engineer, gesturing at a digital tablet. "The foundation depth has to be consistent with section B’s measurements," he said.

Ivy nodded and moved on to the architect. Together, they discussed the day’s plan. For the first time in months, Ivy felt alive.

After months of isolation and heartache, she had thrown herself into this—work during the day, college classes in the evening, collapsing into bed exhausted. Her routine had become her armor. She told herself she was healing, that this busyness was progress.

Her low-heeled shoes sank slightly into the uneven gravel. "Oh, fantastic," she muttered under her breath, trying to extract her heel.

One of the site workers nearby snorted. "You sure those are regulation footwear, ma’am?"

Ivy shot him a dry look.

She was about to step around a small stack of iron rings when a worker at the far end of the site shouted something she didn’t quite catch. A split second later, another man shoved a long plank of wood into the stack to move it out of the way.

The rings shifted, clattering against each other—and Ivy’s heel slipped right into one.

"Shit!" she hissed as her balance gave out. Her arms flailed, helmet flying from her head. The ground seemed to tilt beneath her—and then, in a blur, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her upright before she could hit the dirt.

The world steadied just long enough for her to look up.

Those eyes. That infuriating, devastating shade of grey-blue she’d once fallen into without warning. They were still as piercing as she remembered, only darker now, shadowed with frustration and sleepless nights.

Her mouth went dry.

Winn didn’t say anything at first. He just held her there, one hand pressed against the small of her back, the other curved protectively around her arm.

"Wrong shoes," he murmured finally.

Her brain scrambled to function. "Yeah... I figured," she breathed, forcing a small laugh that came out thin. She tried to step away, but his grip didn’t loosen.

Her body was flush against his now, close enough to feel the hard planes of his chest beneath his shirt, the steady thump of his heartbeat. God, he was still impossibly solid.

"Winn..." she warned softly, but even to her own ears it sounded weak.

He didn’t answer. He just stared at her, jaw tight, eyes burning.

She’d spent months telling herself she’d moved on, that the ache had dulled, that she’d learned to live without him. And yet here she was, trembling.

Winn’s thumb brushed the fabric of her shirt, tracing the slightest line along her ribs. He leaned in a little, enough for his breath to graze her cheek. The crowd and the noise of the construction site blurred, fading to static.

He wanted to kiss her. Every cell in his body screamed it. But his mind flashed with Evans’ words: Be easy with her. She’s been through a lot.

That thought, oddly, was what kept him sane. Barely.

"You need to let me go, Winn."

He lowered his head just slightly, his lips almost touching her ear. "No," he said quietly. "Don’t make me."

"Winn," she said again. "I didn’t come back so we could pick up from where we stopped."

That landed. Hard.

His jaw flexed. He finally loosened his hold. When he stepped back, she immediately missed the heat of him, which only irritated her more.

"We need to talk," Winn said.

Ivy could feel eyes on them from all directions—workers pretending to work, engineers glancing over blueprints but not really seeing them. "I know you want an explanation," she said evenly. "I already gave it to you."

"You call that an explanation?" He took a step closer, his presence consuming the little space between them. "You think a few vague sentences counts as closure? Ivy, I’m not in the mood. Now is not the time. Not the time."

Her chin lifted defiantly. "You are married, Winn," she began to say but she didn’t get the chance to finish.

"Fuck that!" Winn snapped, and heads turned immediately.

Ivy’s eyes widened as she hissed under her breath, "Keep your voice down!" She stepped closer, trying to shield them from the onlookers.

"You know what? Fuck this!" He didn’t let her finish. Before she could blink, he grabbed her by the wrist, his grip firm and started pulling her away from the site. His body language screamed done.

"Winn! Winn! For God’s sake, Winn!" she snapped, digging her heels into the dirt, but he was already leading her past stacks of cement and scaffolding. Workers exchanged looks—some curious, others whispering—but no one dared intervene.

From the corner of her eye, Ivy saw her security detail start toward them at a brisk pace.

Winn noticed him too. He stopped abruptly, turning around so fast that the movement made Ivy stumble right into his chest. His eyes, when they met hers, were blazing.

"We are going to talk," he said. "That’s the only way I’m willing to accept whatever reason you have that made you dump me at the altar."

"Do you have any idea what that did to me?" he demanded.

For all the times she’d rehearsed this confrontation in her head, she hadn’t expected it to sound so raw. His anger was real, messy, desperate.

"I have... I have needed you every step of the way," Winn continued.

"There have been times since you left that...that all I wanted to do was drown in you. You...you brought me peace. And you took away my air. You took..." He stopped himself, closing his eyes briefly. "You are not this cruel, Ivy."

Ivy swallowed hard, her eyes glistening. She wanted to tell him everything—about Tom, about what really happened two days before the wedding, about their little baby.

Her guard finally reached them. "Miss Morales, is everything all right?"

Ivy was shocked—truly shocked. There was something about the way Winn’s eyes softened, the way his lips trembled. She noted how he blinked rapidly, like he was fighting off tears he refused to let her see.

Winn Kane didn’t cry. He raged, he seduced, he threatened. Her own defenses wavered, just a little. The ice she had carefully built around her heart over the last year began to thaw, painfully, against her will. "Fine," she said finally, guarded. "Let’s talk."

(100 golden tickets! Yay!!!)