The Wrong Woman

Over and over, Fenna played out the same narrative, and Mila had reached her limit.

Cameron led Fenna away with the police.

Cole carried Nathan, while Mila and Phoebe guided him out of the motel.

The night seemed destined for endless torment.

Unable to take Nathan, who was deeply ensnared in a drug-induced slumber, home with her, Mila chose to stay at the hotel.

Cole returned home with Phoebe.

In the quiet stillness of the early morning, Mila tenderly wiped Nathan's feverish body, trying to cool his soaring temperature.

Despite his drug-induced sleep, he appeared restless, as if the drug still held him in its grip. Mila pondered if easing some of his tension might offer him some relief.

She undressed them both and leaned in to kiss Nathan softly, positioning herself above him.

Just as she prepared to close the distance between them, Nathan's eyes snapped open.

Mila pulled back, her voice trembling. "Nate, are

for a moment before

she softly touched his flushed cheek. "I'm so sorry. I

her wrist and yanked it forcefully

sharp pain jolting through her wrist as

his gaze falling on his now naked body, his face turning pale with anger. He grabbed a blanket to wrap around himself and staggered into the bathroom. "Nate, what's wrong?" Mila, covering herself

Nathan roared. The sound

Mila cried out, "It's me,

told you

couldn't fathom what she had done wrong. Nathan had

late? Or because she hadn't taken care of him

anxiety, she called out, "Nate, please, what's going on? Why are you angry?" From the bathroom, Nathan's voice lashed out,

was taken aback by his delirious words. After a moment of shock, she couldn't suppress a tearful chuckle. "Nate, I'm not

retorted, "I don't care who you are. You have two minutes to get dressed and leave,

but feel a mix of amusement and despair.