Chapter 23

Sean POV

My head felt like it was being crushed in a vice. Sunlight stabbed through my eyelids, making the pounding even worse.

I forced my eyes open, squinting at an unfamiliar ceiling.

Evan's guest room.

The realization came slowly, along with fragmented memories of last night. Expensive whiskey. William's knowing smirk. Evan's quiet concern. And underneath it all, a gnawing ache that had nothing to do with alcohol.

"Good morning." Evan's voice came from the doorway, followed by the soft clink of glass against wood. "Water and aspirin when you're ready."

I managed to push myself up, ignoring the way the room tilted. "How did I end up here?"

"You insisted." Evan settled into a chair by the window, his expression carefully neutral. "Rather forcefully, actually, when Christina offered to take you to her place."

Christina. The name stirred something in my memory - her voice, heavy with concern, floating through the haze of whiskey. But there had been someone else I'd wanted to see last night. Someone whose absence had felt like a physical wound.

"She was there?" I asked, though I wasn't sure why it mattered.

"Showed up right after you passed out. Quite concerned about your wellbeing." Evan watched me with that penetrating gaze that always saw too much. "William drove her home."

I reached for the water and aspirin, using the movement to avoid his eyes. "I should call her. Thank her for her concern."

"Probably," Evan agreed. "Though you might want to check your other missed calls first."

My phone sat on the bedside table, its screen lit up with notifications. Christina's name appeared several times, along with messages from William.

But it was another name that made my heart stutter - Angela, timestamped 2:47 AM.

"She called?" The words scraped against my dry throat.

"After I reached out to her." Evan's tone was deliberately casual. "She deserved to know you were safe."

Something hot and uncomfortable curled in my chest. "You shouldn't have worried her."

"Shouldn't I? She's still your wife, Sean. And despite what you both pretend, I don't think this marriage is as purely business as you claim."

"It was an arrangement," I said automatically, falling back on the explanation I'd repeated countless times. "For grandmother's sake. Nothing more."

"Really?" Evan leaned forward, his expression serious. "Then why did you keep asking for her last night? Before you passed out completely - you kept saying her name. Not Christina's. Angela's."

My fingers tightened around the water glass. Had I really called for her?

The admission felt dangerous, like acknowledging it might crack open something I'd worked hard to keep contained.

"I was drunk."

"Exactly. And drunk men, as they say, speak sober thoughts." Evan paused, something knowing in his eyes. "She came to the club last night."

The glass froze halfway to my lips. "What?"

"I saw her car in the parking lot. But she never came inside. I think... I think she saw Christina arrive and decided to leave instead."

"That's ridiculous," I snapped, but the words felt hollow. Would she have come if I'd asked? Would she have stayed if Christina hadn't shown up?

A knock interrupted my spiraling thoughts. William's voice carried through the door: "Visitor for the invalid."

Christina swept in before I could respond, looking fresh and perfect in a pale pink sundress.

The sight of her should have sparked something - desire, affection, anything. Instead, I felt my shoulders tense.

"Sean, darling. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," I said, my voice sliding into its usual controlled tone. "Thank you for your concern last night."

"Of course." She perched on the edge of the bed, her hand reaching for mine. "I was so worried. You never drink like that."

"I should get home," I said, already moving to stand. "Change before the office."

"You can't possibly be thinking of working today," Christina protested. "You need rest. Doctor's orders."

But I was already reaching for my jacket, needing to escape the suffocating concern in her voice. "I have meetings that can't wait."

"At least let me drive you," she offered. "My car's right outside."

"I'll handle it," Evan cut in smoothly. "We're headed to the same building anyway."

Something flickered across Christina's perfect features - frustration? disappointment? - but her smile never wavered. "Of course. I'll check on you later, Sean."

After she left, I struggled with my tie, my usually steady hands betraying me. Evan watched for several moments before speaking.

"You know, for someone so brilliant at business strategy, you can be remarkably blind about certain things."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that maybe it's time to ask yourself why you really got drunk last night. Why you kept asking for Angela, not Christina. Why the thought of Angela seeing Christina at the club bothers you so much."

"You're reading too much into this," I said flatly, though something in my chest twisted at his words.

"Plans change," Evan noted quietly. "People change. Feelings change."

"Not these feelings." But I couldn't meet his eyes in the mirror. "Christina and I... we have history."

"So do you and Angela. Longer history, actually." He moved to help with my mangled tie. "The question is, after all these years, do you actually know what - or who - you really want?"

I stared at my reflection, at the perfectly knotted tie that felt suddenly too tight.

Last night's drinking hadn't been about the Lawrence Capital deal, or grandmother's upcoming surgery, or even Christina's constant presence.

It had been about Angela.

About the way she'd looked at me when I'd forced her to stay in the apartment.

About the pregnancy joke that had felt more like a punch to the gut.

About watching her with Nathan Harrison, seeing the gentle way he touched her hair, the soft concern in his voice when he called.

"I need coffee," I said instead of answering Evan's question. "And the quarterly reports better be on my desk by nine."