He Didn’t Just Ignore Me—He Replaced Me | Exclusive Scene from Burned By Fate

He Wasn't Busy. He Was Dancing With Her.

A glimpse into Amelia's heartbreak, rage, and reckoning in Burned By Fate.

I always imagined love would be soft. Gentle. Certain. But no one ever tells you what it feels like when love turns into silence. Or worse—when silence turns into betrayal.

In this exclusive scene from Burned By Fate, Amelia walks into what should have been a magical night under the stars at the Phoenix Zoo. Candlelight. Jazz. The kind of evening dreams are made of… except the one man she wanted there isn’t beside her. And the reason why? He’s across the dance floor—with his ex. Laughing. Touching and choosing her.

But Amelia isn’t the kind of woman to fade into the shadows. Not anymore.

👉 Read the whole scene below. It’s a turning point. It’s a gut punch. And it’s everything that makes Burned By Fate a story of love, pain, and power.

As I stepped into the Phoenix Zoo entrance, I forgot how to breathe for a moment.

Candles lined the winding paths like a trail in a fairy tale, their soft golden flames dancing in the desert breeze. Trees cast long shadows across the walkway, and the subtle scent of night-blooming flowers wrapped itself around the warm spring air. Ahead, the stage glowed beneath a canopy of stars and was surrounded by the dim lights of even more candles. This is where a jazz quartet would soon fill the night with velvet sound-music that made your chest ache in all the right places.

It ought to have felt magical, romantic, even.

Perhaps it did for others, but not for me. It simply reminded me of who was not standing next to me and who was.

Daniel stood beside me in a tuxedo that likely cost more than my car. The cut was sharp, the fit perfect, as if it had been stitched onto him by hand. Women glanced at him, while men gave a once-over and a nod. We looked like the couple of the evening, polished, elegant, and picture-perfect.

Yet none of it felt real.

To the left of the stage, a polished wooden dance floor reflected the candlelight, making everything shimmer with golden warmth. A string of lights twinkled above it like a second layer of stars, and the whole scene felt like something out of a dream.

A dream I wish to share with someone else.

Aziz.

God, I wished it were him standing beside me. I wished I could turn and see that smirk he wore when he caught me staring or feel that pull in my stomach when his fingers brushed mine like it meant nothing, except I always knew it meant everything.

But he wasn’t here.

He hadn’t even called.

Lately, it feels like I am chasing smoke. One day, he holds me as if he's afraid I might vanish. Next, he is colder than the desert air at midnight. It is infuriating, and I never feel like I really know where I stand with him. I feel like he wants more, but the minute he shows it, he pulls back again like he regrets it.

I just wish he would open up even a little. Let me in, let me see the real him, the one that no one sees, the one he keeps hidden because he is too busy taking care of everyone and everything.

This is what I crave the most.

Sex? Sure. That, he never hesitated on. He’d pull me in like a drowning man reaching for the surface, his hands desperate, lips searching, like I was the only thing keeping him afloat. He pressed me close, skin to skin, until I couldn’t tell where I ended, and he began. In those moments, he needed me. I never questioned that. He needed the escape, the release, the illusion of control when everything else in his world spun too fast. And I gave it to him. Willingly. Completely. I submitted to him because I needed him just as much as he needed me.

For those few stolen hours, I could pretend we were more than what we were, that the way he touched me meant something, that I was more than a safe place for his storms to land. But when morning came, or sometimes just the silence afterward, I could feel him slip away, retreating into that place I wasn’t allowed to follow, as if he was punishing himself for needing or wanting me at all.

And no matter how many times he reached for me in the dark, he never stayed in the light. But as the hours passed and the stolen moments over, when I needed words instead of hands, he vanished into himself. Like wanting more from me, feeling more, was a sin he wasn’t willing to confess.

And I knew why. I knew exactly who he was trying not to betray.

His ex. Rasha.

“Amelia?” Daniel’s voice cut through my thoughts, warm and expectant. “Champagne or wine?”

I blinked, dragging myself back into the moment. “Red wine. Just one glass, thank you.”

He smiled, a little too familiar, and leaned in like he was about to kiss my cheek.

I pulled back a little too fast.

“Daniel,” I said sharply, but I softened my tone before finishing. “We talked about this. We’re here as friends. Please don’t cross that line.”

A beat of silence stretched between us, thick and awkward. Then he offered a tight-lipped smile, his hands slipping into the pockets of his tux.

“I know. I do,” he said. “But don’t kill me for trying. You look... breathtaking in that black dress, Amelia. I can’t help wanting more.”

I looked away, letting his compliment hang in the air without a reply.

Because my heart wasn’t here.

It was somewhere else on a silent phone screen, waiting for a name that wouldn’t light up. A message that wouldn’t come. A man who touched my body like I was everything but held back his heart like I was nothing.

I watched as Daniel disappeared in the crowd of people milling around the area, drinking, dancing, and having the time of their lives. A time I should be having right now; instead, I was lost in my thoughts of him and how he didn’t even respond to my request to join me tonight.

 In fact, it had been days since we talked, and it was breaking me.

Not slowly, the way heartbreak is supposed to creep in soft and subtle like a leak you don’t notice until it floods the whole damn room.

No. This was fast. Violent. Crippling.

I was a confident woman- successful. I knew who I was and what I wanted. I had built a life defined by clear lines and sharp edges, and I had never been the kind of girl who begged or chased for anyone’s attention.

But with Aziz?

All of that crumbled and crashed like the waves striking the rocks at the shore.

He made me feel... small. Like a schoolgirl nursing her first hopeless crush. I hated that I clung to every flicker of attention he threw my way: a missed call, a half-hearted text, a glance that felt like a promise until it wasn’t.

I hated that he could undo me with silence; he could make this confident woman less sure of everything.

I told myself I was stronger than this. Smarter. That I knew better than to fall for someone who didn’t know how to stay or who he wanted. I told myself that when he was with me, truly with me, I could sense he wanted me there, liked me there, and desired more. But the truth sat heavy in my chest like wet cement: if she, his ex, gave him so much as a sideways look, he’d drop me. Without a second thought.

And that?

That truth gutted me more than anything else.

Even with everything I knew… I still wanted him.

I still held onto that stupid, fragile hope, you know, the one that maybe he’d feel something more. That I wasn’t just a warm body to distract him until she came back. That, just maybe, he’d choose me.

Then I saw him.

Across the dance floor. Just beyond the stage, where the music had begun to sound, and couples started swaying under the stars like they were in love and belonged there together.

Aziz.

And her.

He wasn’t ignoring me because he was busy or because he was thinking things through. He was here.

With her.

Dancing.

My heart dropped. But somehow, my pulse spiked like my body couldn’t figure out whether to shatter or fight.

He looked good, of course, he did. His hand rested at the small of her back in the same way he touched me, like it was second nature. Like it meant something. She tilted her head back and laughed at something he whispered, and I just stood there, frozen, watching the truth slap me in the face.

She was stunning, effortlessly so. The kind of beauty that didn’t beg for attention but commanded it the moment she entered the room.

Her skin was a warm, golden bronze, smooth and glowing under the soft flicker of candlelight. Thick, raven-black hair cascaded in waves down her back, the kind that looked too perfect to touch. Her eyes, almond-shaped, were a deep, intoxicating brown, the kind that held secrets and swallowed light. They didn’t just look at you; they measured you.

She wore a rich burgundy gown that hugged every curve with elegance, the silk clinging in just the right places, modest yet devastatingly feminine. Gold earrings dangled from her ears, catching the light every time she tilted her head, like she knew she was being watched, and reveled in it.

Her presence was undeniable.

Graceful. Sophisticated. Dangerous.

The kind of woman you couldn’t help but compare yourself to and always came up short.

He brought her. He chose her. Not me, and the realization sliced through me, swift and brutal. I wanted to vanish. To crawl inside myself and disappear. How many hours had I spent wondering why he hadn’t texted me back? Why was he distant?

The answer was twirling in front of me, wrapped in a silk gown and a smug smile.

But then something shifted. Something snapped.

Because I remembered who the hell I was.

I was not the woman who stood on the sidelines, hoping for scraps of affection. I was not the backup plan, the emotional placeholder. And I sure as hell wasn’t the kind of woman who cried quietly into her wine while the man she wanted spun another woman across the floor.

Something inside me cracked wide open and it wasn’t sadness anymore.

It was rage.

Hot, white, blinding rage.

Aziz’s eyes shifted mid-step and landed smack dab on mine. Stunned. Like he hadn’t expected to be caught. Like he hadn’t just torn me in two with a single choice.

But I didn’t flinch.

I refused to look away, refused to blink, refused to give him the satisfaction of thinking this was okay. That I would not shrink or crumble beneath the weight of her draped on his arm.

Instead, I lifted my chin, plastered on the brightest smile I could summon, and gave him a slow, smug wave- the kind that said, you’re not the only one who can play pretend.

I had to laugh because, right on cue, as if the universe had a flair for drama, Daniel stepped up beside me and handed me a glass of wine. Perfectly timed, he rested his hand on the small of my back, warm and steady.

I should’ve asked him to move it.Should’ve stepped away.

But I didn’t.

Because, for once, I wanted Aziz to feel it. To see me with someone else. To understand that I had options. To feel that twist in his gut when the person he thought might be his suddenly... wasn’t.

I wanted him to realize what he’d just thrown away.

That’s when I broke the stare. Cool and clean, like I was the one in control now. Like he didn’t just gut me and leave me for dead.

I turned to Daniel and forced another smile, but my chest was tight, my pulse frantic. I needed air. Distance. Anything before the rage cracked open and let the heartbreak spill out.

“Daniel,” I said, steady as I could manage, “I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

I didn’t wait for Daniel to respond. I just turned and walked, my heels clicking against the stone path, the candlelight blurring slightly at the edges of my vision. I wasn’t going to cry. Not here. Not because of him.

The restroom was tucked behind a grove of desert trees and soft-lit lanterns. It was quiet and secluded. I reached the edge of the building and leaned against the cool stucco wall, breathing deeply as I tried to steady the chaos inside me. I struggled to get the vision out of my head, knowing that I couldn’t stay here forever and would have to accept that he wasn’t here with me and that there was nothing I could do to change that.

Then I heard the footsteps.

Heavy. Purposeful.

I didn’t have to turn to know it was him.

“Amelia,” Aziz’s voice came low and rough behind me, like gravel under velvet. “Wait.”

I closed my eyes, jaw tight.

Of course, he followed me. Now he cared.

“You’ve got five seconds,” I said without turning. “Make it count.”

There was a pause, and then he stepped closer, his presence wrapping around me like a storm cloud, tense, electric, full of things unsaid.

“I didn’t know you’d be here tonight,” he said.

I let out a humorless laugh and spun to face him, arms crossed tightly over my chest.

“Right. Because if you had known, you wouldn’t have brought her?” I practically spat the word. “Oh, wait… remind me again how you didn’t know I’d be here?”

His mouth opened, but I didn’t let him speak.

“I texted you, Aziz,” I said, voice rising with every syllable. “I invited you. Asked you to come with me. You know what I got in return?” I took a step closer, my eyes burning into his. “Ghosted.”

The word hung between us like a slap.

“I waited for hours,” I added, voice quieter now, trembling with the truth I didn’t want to say. “You ignored me... because you already had plans. With her.”

His jaw clenched. “It’s not like that.”

“No?” I stepped toward him now, anger making my words sharp. “Because from where I was standing, it looked exactly like that. Dancing. Laughing. Like I never existed.”

“You do exist,” he said, voice low, stepping in close. “You think I don’t feel this too? You think this is easy for me?”

I stared up at him, chest heaving. “Then why the hell do you keep running from it? From me?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at me like I was breaking him, too.

“You don’t understand,” he whispered.

“Then help me,” I said, voice trembling now. “Because I’m tired, Aziz. Tired of wondering where I stand. Of giving you all these pieces of me and getting silence in return. I can’t keep waiting for someone who won’t choose me.”

His eyes darkened with something fierce and unreadable. “I do choose you, Amelia.”

“Then prove it.” My voice cracked on the last word.

We stood there, so close I could feel his breath on my lips, so far I might as well have been on the other side of the world.

And in that moment, I didn’t know whether he’d kiss me…

Or let me walk away.

What makes Burned By Fate different?

It’s not just romance. It’s about what it feels like to crave someone who only shows up in the dark—but never stays in the light. It’s about knowing your worth, even when the one person you want most treats you like a secret.

This book is messy. Sexy. Unapologetically real. It’s about a woman on the edge of heartbreak… and the man who might not deserve her, but can’t stay away.

📚 Burned By Fate releases late 2025. Be the first to read early chapters, meet the characters, and join my ARC team by signing up at:👉 www.cjwalkerbooks.com

📲 And don’t forget to follow me on Facebook for more exclusive teasers, cover reveals, and live chats with readers. I can’t wait to hear what you think of this scene—drop a comment or message me directly.

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