Ethan
The penthouse felt different with them in it.
Fuller and occupied in a way it hadn’t been before.
Meredith’s perfume scenting in the hallways long after she had moved to another room.
Her voice sounding so bright all the way from the living area when she was on the phone with florists or planners.
And then there was Aleena.
She moved through the space carefully, like she was trying not to leave fingerprints on anything.
Most days she left early and returned late and when our paths crossed in the kitchen or the hallway, she’d keep her eyes forward and her answers short but then I told myself that it was ideal as well as a means to an uncomplicated relationship.
The arrangement with Meredith was already delicate enough without adding anything else to it.
Still, there were moments that slipped past my guard.
The soft sound of her bare feet on the stairs late at night.
The way she lingered in the kitchen doorway once when she thought I wasn’t looking.
The faint trace of her shampoo in the hallway after she passed.
Small things.
Harmless on their own however, each one brushed against the part of me I had spent two years trying to bury, and I hated how easily it tried coming back up, I’d shut it down every time it did because I had no choice.
I poured myself into work instead.
After all, I had things to work on as my acquisition was moving slower than I wanted with two of the board members dragging their feet and hiding behind polite language while they tried to protect their own interests.
I spent most of the morning on calls, keeping my voice even while I made it clear that hesitation would cost them more than cooperation.
Marcus sent over revised contacts by noon.
Damian followed with the legal work especially whenever we would need to cut corners and if things were to turn ugly.
By the time I left the office, the deal was back on track, but the usual satisfaction felt muted, like something else was taking up the space where focus used to live.
I texted Adrian on the way down to the car.
Me: if you’re up for a couple of drinks, lets meet up at the usual place
He replied almost immediately.
Adrian: On my way.
The bar was quiet for a weeknight, but that’s how I preferred it.
Adrian was already at our usual corner table, two glasses of whiskey waiting.
He looked the same as he always did with his sharp suit, easier smile than I have, the only person left who still called me on my bullshit without flinching.
“You’re actually going through with it,” he said as soon as I sat down.
No greeting.
Just that.
“The wedding?”
“Yeah.
The wedding.” He leaned back, studying me over the rim of his own glass.
“You’ve never taken a relationship seriously in your life.
Not one.
And now you’re marrying a woman because of who she has as friends?”
“It’s not that simple.” I cut in
“It never is with you.”
I turned the glass slowly between my fingers, watching the amber liquid catch the low light.
“Meredith has access to rooms I can’t buy my way into.
Old money.
Old influence.
The kind of people who still make decisions over dinner instead of in boardrooms.
That circle opens doors the acquisition alone won’t open.
I need those doors open, and this is the cleanest way to get them.”
Adrian watched me for a long moment.
“And the daughter?”
I didn’t answer right away.
The question sat between us heavier than it should have.
He already knew.
He had been the one I called two years ago when I left that club, still hard and restless and angry at myself for walking away.
He had listened without judgment then.
He wasn’t judging now either, but he wasn’t letting it go.
“She’s living in your house,” he said quietly.
“You’re telling me that doesn’t complicate things?”
“It doesn’t.”
“Bullshit.”
The word landed soft, but it still hit.
I felt my jaw tighten. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
The memory of her in that thin black slip she was in during the first night’s dinner that revealed her clean, bare legs, and then her wide green eyes coupled with the way she had looked at me like she was remembering everything I had tried to forget.
I pushed it down hard, the same way I had been pushing it down every day since she moved in.
“I’m marrying her mother,” I said, my voice lower than before.
“That’s the end of it.”
Adrian didn’t look convinced.
He reached for his own glass, then paused.
“You left her in that room, Ethan.
You told me yourself you couldn’t stop thinking about her for months.
And now she’s under your roof, calling you by your first name, walking around in your space, and you’re pretending it’s business as usual?”
Something hot and sharp moved through my chest.
I tightened my grip on the whiskey glass until the crystal edges pressed into my palm.
The liquid inside trembled slightly.
“Drop it!” I said sharply in a voice that made it obvious that I’d like for the topic to change.
He held my gaze for another second, then nodded once and looked away.
The silence that followed was heavier than the conversation had been.
I forced my hand to relax, lifted the glass, and drank.
The whiskey burned on the way down.
We talked about safer things after that; His latest deal, a mutual acquaintance who had just tanked a merger, the usual noise of men who had known each other too long to need constant honesty.
But the earlier tension sat between us like a third person at the table, quiet and unavoidable.
When I finally stood to leave, Adrian didn’t try to stop me.
“Be careful,” he said quietly.
I didn’t answer.
Outside, the night air was cool against my face.
I sat in the back of the car and stared at the city lights without really seeing them.
The grip of the glass still lingered in my palm, a small, useless reminder that some things were harder to control than others.
Aleena was probably already in her room by the time I got home.
I told myself that was for the best.
I told myself the arrangement with Meredith would hold.
I told myself the past was finished.
None of it felt as solid as it should have but I’d have to carry on.