The Man I Shouldn't Want: A Game of Seduction and Lies

11. A Gaze That Burns

The second I step into the building, I spot Meera. Her eyes are wide, and for a moment, she looks like she’s about to faint. “Okay,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief. “I expected something loud and ugly. And while this wasn’t exactly that, it’s... somehow worse.” She pauses, but then her lips curve into a smirk. “Just don’t ruin your dress, alright? You look sexy when you’re pissed.”

I let out a breathy laugh despite myself. Leave it to Meera to find the silver lining, however small. “Noted,” I mutter, brushing past her as I make my way into the main hall.

The lights inside are dim, the soft chatter of guests filling the space as I weave through the tables. As I slip into my seat at the table, the low murmur of conversations and clinking glasses fills the room. I barely have a chance to take in my surroundings before my eyes land on a familiar face sitting across from me — the lead actor from my debut movie. Chris Matthews. It’s been seven years since we worked together on that romantic comedy, but the sight of him brings back a flood of memories.

“Natalie,” Chris says smoothly, his smile widening as he leans in slightly, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that feels deliberate. “You look... incredible tonight.”

I can hear the flirtation lacing his voice, and while part of me would normally brush it off, tonight I find myself leaning into it. His eyes linger on me a moment too long, the familiar warmth in his tone mixed with something more — something bold. I know exactly what this is. It’s not just him being polite or complimentary. Everyone knows about my situation now. My crumbling marriage with Mike is public knowledge, and that makes me... available. Open for flirtation. Open for more.

But it’s not just the gossip that fuels this moment. I remember how Chris was back then — charming, always the gentleman. I was a new actress, just breaking into the industry, and he was already a seasoned star. He was always nice to me, complimenting me on my work, offering advice, guiding me through scenes with his years of experience. I admired him then, maybe even had a small crush on him, but I was so hopelessly in love with Mike. But even then, I’d sensed Chris’ subtle advances. The way his hand would linger on my back a little too long after a scene or how his compliments would veer just shy of being too personal. He’d never pushed, though, because back then, I was completely consumed by Mike.

I was head over heels, blind to the way anyone else might have seen me. Mike had been my whole world, and the idea of entertaining someone else’s attention felt impossible. But now, as I sit here across from him, I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if things had been different.

I meet his gaze, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself enjoy the attention. His words feel good, soothing even. I chuckle, shaking my head slightly, but the smile on my lips doesn’t falter. “Thanks, haven’t believed that in a while,” I reply. “You look great yourself.”

His eyes search mine, and I can see that he knows exactly what I mean. It’s been a while since I felt like me, like more than just Mike’s wife, more than just someone’s arm candy. For the past few years, my confidence has been chipped away piece by piece, and it’s only now, sitting here, that I realise how much I’ve missed this. The feeling of being noticed, of being wanted for me.

“So,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes sharp with intent, “what are you doing tonight after this whole... event?” His gaze holds mine, waiting, as if the answer matters more than it should.

I laugh softly, leaning back in my chair, feeling the weight of the moment settle between us. “Honestly?” I raise an eyebrow. “I plan on getting drunk.”

He chuckles, but there’s something in his electric blue eyes — something a little more intense than before. He’s not just making small talk. He’s testing the waters, seeing how far he can go.

“I could join you,” Chris offers, the corner of his mouth lifting in a playful grin. “We could... catch up. It’s been too long.”

His words are smooth, but the meaning beneath them is clear. He’s suggesting more than just a drink. There’s an openness to his invitation, a familiarity that makes it clear he’s not just talking about reminiscing. And for a moment, I consider it. I could easily say yes, let myself fall into the easy charm he’s offering, let the night unfold however it wants. It wouldn’t be complicated. No strings attached. It would be a distraction — a way to forget everything that’s been weighing me down.

But as much as I enjoy the attention, I know deep down that’s not what I want. Not really. So I give him a knowing smile and lean in slightly, matching his energy. “Maybe another time,” I say, my voice light but firm.

Chris nods, accepting the answer without hesitation, but I can see the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. Still, he doesn’t push. He’s been doing this long enough to know when to ease back. Instead, he shifts the conversation, bringing up old memories from our time on set, and for a while, it’s easy. Comfortable.

But as the conversation flows, I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. There’s a prickling on the back of my neck, an awareness that someone’s eyes are on me. Slowly, I glance around the room, scanning the crowd until my gaze lands on Ric.

He’s standing across the room, his dark eyes locked on me, watching. And it’s not just a casual glance. He’s staring, his expression hard to read, but there’s a tension there, a possessiveness that sends a thrill through me.

He looks... jealous.