Falling for my Enemy's Brother
Chapter 77: Dare to Tell the Truth

Chapter 77: Dare to Tell the Truth

Merlina hadn’t meant to look.

But she did.

And now she couldn’t stop. Couldn’t blink. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t pretend that Craig Lesnar wasn’t real and right there, standing a few feet away, looking like the last month hadn’t wrecked them both from the inside out.

He didn’t move. Not toward her, anyway.

He just stood there, tall and unfazed, with his fists curling inside the pockets of his dark blazer like they were the only thing keeping him from making the wrong moves.

The music played on. Someone laughed among them. Phoebe brushed past, perfume clinging to the air. A drink was pressed into her hand. Cold, sweet, and untouched.

But all Merlina could feel was him.

The gravity of him. The ache he left behind when he decided to ghost her. The way her whole body stilled like it remembered him better than her mind ever could.

He didn’t even nod at her. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t try to say hello, not even a whisper.

He just looked right through her. Like she wasn’t standing there unraveling. Like she was just air. Like she was nothing.

And that stung more than she wanted to admit, colder than he’d ever been. Deeper than any of his snappy comments he could’ve hurled. She didn’t understand this sudden switch.

She stood there, frozen, like she wanted to apologize to God for every breath she dared take in his direction, because he didn’t deserve it. Not her thoughts, not her attention, not even her glance.

She was still in the middle of scolding herself when a soft gust from the overhead vent rustled the paper napkins on the table beside her. One floated toward her, weightless and innocent, almost like mercy. On instinct, she reached out to catch it, her fingers brushing the edge of the table for balance.

And when her gaze followed the movement upward, she found him already looking at her.

Craig.

Their eyes locked, sudden and sharp, like a wound being reopened. Like the room had bent around that one moment. Her heart stopped, because for one unbearable second, she thought he might still care, that he still noticed everything about her.

He locked his jaw, but she saw it. The storm flickering behind his eyes. He was holding himself together with the kind of restraint that made her want to scream.

And maybe that was the worst part. That he still looked at her like that. Like he hated how much he felt. Like she ruined him simply by existing in the same room, within his extremely small circle.

She was supposed to be over this. Over him. So why did her eyes still look for answers in his? Why did her heart still pause like it was waiting for him to speak?

She shifted her weight. Gripped the stem of her glass harder than she meant to. Forced herself to look away, even though her chest ached from the effort.

She didn’t care.

She didn’t care.

She didn’t—then why did her heart beg for his voice?

Adriana was laughing now, bright, casual, and radiant. Then, with effortless ease, she slipped both hands behind Craig’s neck, resting them on his shoulders like they had always belonged there.

Her guts twisted so hard it felt like someone was squeezing her insides with dirty hands. She stared at the floor like she’d rather watch flies buzzing around a rotten sandwich than keep looking at the shitshow in front of her.

It wasn’t just jealousy. It was the sick realization that he let her. That he didn’t pull away. That he didn’t even glance at Merlina as it happened. Maybe he was too caught up in the moment to care.

Lies. All of them. Every time she told herself she was okay. Every time she swore she’d moved on. Every time she said she never even wanted him anymore.

He wasn’t even touching her, and yet her skin was burning.

She looked down at her drink, the ice already melting. Her reflection blinked back at her from the glass, uncertain, small, heartbreakingly transparent.

She wished she could leave.

Walk away for some air.

Breathe.

But her legs refused to move. Her throat caught tight. And her heart, the weakest of them all, remained desperate. Still his. Still silently asking the one question she’d promised herself never to ask again.

Did he miss her, even a little?

Phoebe clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. "Okay, game time!"

"No," Megan muttered with a tired smile, but Phoebe ignored her and grabbed a bowl from the coffee table.

"Inside this bowl," Phoebe announced, "are conversation starters. You pull one, you answer. That’s it. No skipping. No lying. Let’s go!"

Groans followed. Keith reached first. "What’s your most irrational fear?"

He read it, smirked, and deadpanned, "That Phoebe will make us play more crazy games tonight."

The room laughed. Even Merlina let out a breathy chuckle.

One by one, the bowl made its way around each of them. Megan’s question was who’s the person she loved the most in the room. Adriana’s was what she’d do if she had 24 hours left to live.

Craig watched it inch closer.

Then Phoebe handed it to him. "Come on, Mr. Ice cold. Don’t chicken out."

He pulled a folded slip and opened it slowly.

"Who is the one person you can’t stop thinking about?" Craig read his question out loud.

"Aww, too easy!" Phoebe squealed, glancing a look at Adriana.

"Me, right?" Keith teased.

Craig’s fingers folded the paper again. He could feel everyone waiting.

His eyes darted up, too fast and too instinctive, and landed on Merlina.

She was already looking at him.

Their eyes collided, breathlessly brief.

His chest tightened. Shit.

He looked away so fast it almost hurt, jaw ticking like he wanted to punch himself for slipping. Not now. Not here.

"Adriana," he said quickly, voice low but steady. The name burned on his tongue, but not because it was true.

Laughter bubbled up, light and teasing. Phoebe squealed. Keith whooped. The tension cracked as the group leaned in, all smirks and side-eyes.

But not Merlina.

The name didn’t just sting. It settled, heavy and unmoving. She couldn’t even pretend to smile. Couldn’t summon the energy to fake a chuckle or play along.

It was too loud in her chest. Too real.

She didn’t smile. Didn’t join in. She just wasn’t having it.

Then, shortly, Adriana leaned in, slow and sure, pressing a kiss dangerously close to the corner of Craig’s mouth.

"I know you love me," she whispered, voice low and playful.

Craig didn’t move. Didn’t smile. His jaw tightened just once, like holding it together cost more than it should. He could feel the tension in his body, sharp and restless, and the laughter around him felt far away, like it belonged to some other room.

For a split second, he wondered if anyone could tell. If anyone had seen it—the awkward shift in his shoulders, the way he barely reacted to Adriana’s kiss. God, he hoped not.

Then his eyes drifted back to Merlina. He didn’t mean to look. God knows he didn’t want to, especially not now. But he couldn’t help it. It was like a forceful pull toward her direction. Like guilt. Like instinct.

And there she was. Head bent. Shoulders stiff. Fingers wrapped around her glass like it was the only thing keeping her steady.

He watched her lift it slowly. Watched her take the smallest sip, controlled and composed, but the way her throat moved gave her away. Her chest rose with a breath that was too sharp, too held. She didn’t look up. Didn’t glance at anyone. Least of all, him.

And that did something to him.

Because Craig saw it. The tension in her jaw. The way she blinked too slowly, like she was trying not to react.

He saw it all.

And for a second, he hated himself. Hated that she’d heard him say Adriana’s name like it meant nothing. Like it didn’t rip something quiet and important out of her.

Adriana leaned in to kiss his cheek, and he barely felt it. All he could feel was the ache blooming in the silence between him and Merlina.

He looked away, but not because he didn’t care about how that moment might’ve made her feel.

He did.

And that was the problem.

He shifted in his seat. Rubbed his thumb against his jeans, trying to shake the feeling out of his skin. But it clung to him, tighter than he wanted.

Around them, the room was alive. Laughter, teasing, soft nudges and stolen glances. But between Craig and Merlina? It was a storm. Quiet. Bruising. Heavy with everything they wouldn’t say.

And no one else even noticed.

The game moved on smoothly after that. More difficult questions flying. Laughter rising and falling like waves.

"What’s a secret you’ve never told anyone?" Megan read aloud, face turning red before she passed.

"If you had to hook up with someone here right now, who would it be?" Keith grinned wickedly as he answered.

"Have you ever lied to someone in this room?" Phoebe gasped, clutching her pearls like she wasn’t the one who wrote that.

The group howled. The wine flowed. And for a while, it almost felt normal.

Almost.

Until it was Merlina’s turn. Her hand hovered, then picked a card. She read it quietly, lips barely moving. "Who in this room knows your lips better than anyone else?"