Love Without Measure

25. A Honeymoon Crasher

The Maldives had always existed in Emma's imagination as a paradise—clear turquoise waters, soft sand underfoot, and a private villa where she and Caleb would begin the chapter they'd waited for all their lives. Married at last, she had dreamed of this honeymoon endlessly: sun, ocean, and the man she loved. But in that moment, reality had a way of twisting perfection into something fragile.

Hand in hand, they strolled along the shore, the waves whispering against the sand. Caleb's smile was effortless, his laugh echoing over the water. This is it, she thought, letting herself melt into the warmth of his presence. This is our forever.

But as the villa came into view that afternoon, a chill swept through her spine.

A figure stood near the entrance, back turned, dark hair tumbling down like a shadow across the sunlit terrace. Emma's chest tightened, a sudden cold settling in her bones. Caleb's expression changed immediately, warmth giving way to a tense, unreadable shadow. His hand slipped from hers.

"Olivia," he muttered, voice low, strained.

Emma froze, stomach twisting. Olivia—the ex-wife. The one who had once shared his life, his secrets, his heart. Emma's mind swirled, torn between disbelief and rising panic. She can't be here. Not now. Not on our honeymoon.

The woman turned slowly, her gaze sweeping over Emma with the faintest smirk—possessive, measuring, calculating. "I didn't expect to see you here," Olivia said, her tone deceptively light. "But I thought we could talk."

Emma's fingers gripped Caleb's hand without realizing it, searching for a tether in the sudden storm of emotions. What am I supposed to feel? Anger? Hurt? Fear?

Caleb's jaw tightened. "What are you doing here?" His voice was sharper now, edge slicing through the tropical air.

"I came to see you," Olivia replied, tilting her head, eyes flicking over Emma again. She thinks she still belongs here. Emma's heart sank.

"I—I'm Emma," she finally said, voice catching. She tried to smile politely, but it felt fragile, meaningless.

Caleb's attention softened immediately, though his tension remained. "Emma, this is Olivia. My ex-wife."

Ex-wife. The words echoed in her head, a reminder of a past she hadn't bargained for.

Olivia's smile widened, a shimmer of something more dangerous in her eyes. "I thought we could catch up," she said, a sweetness dripping into venom. "I've missed you, Caleb."

Emma's stomach knotted. She wanted to ask why Olivia had come, what she intended, but words failed her. She was frozen, watching Caleb's shoulders stiffen. He's still human. He's still susceptible to her, isn't he?

"Olivia, this is neither the time nor place," Caleb said firmly, voice low but resolute. "We're on our honeymoon. Please, leave."

Olivia's eyes met Emma's briefly, a final shot of possession and challenge. "Enjoy your trip, Emma. I hope you don't mind the company," she said, and then she was gone, fading into the palm shadows.

Emma's heart hammered. Caleb moved closer, hand brushing hers gently. "Emma, it's over. It's been over for years. I promise you, it's only you now."

Can I believe him? she thought, breath shallow. Can I really? His sincerity was there, raw and aching, but the shadow of Olivia clung like a ghost.

That evening, the villa felt smaller, suffocating. The sun dipped into the horizon, painting the sky in shades of fire that did nothing to warm her chest. They sat on the balcony, silence stretching long between them. The waves, once melodic, now seemed like a distant echo.