Chapter 4 The Morning After

(Mia)

For a moment, I lie still, staring at the ceiling.

Then memory surfaces. Not all at once. Just fragments.

His voice, his touch. And his kiss.

I close my eyes.

He is not about to do anything while I’m drunk. That second bottle was a really bad choice on my part.

But I never expected him to actually come home. I might be only dreaming that he stayed in here with me. 

That I held him close all night and he let me.

I shift slightly, my hand brushing the sheets beside me.

I roll over.

The space is empty, but not untouched. The mattress dips faintly where he slept, the impression still there. The pillow has been used.

When I inhale, the familiar scent of his cologne lingers… spicy, subtle, unmistakable.

He stayed. That changes things.

Settle down, girl. He isn’t in bed with you now is he?

I push myself up.

My head throbs faintly as I stand, the aftereffects of the wine making themselves known. I wince, then straighten.

Get it together.

I wash up, change into a simple dress, and tie my hair back.

The penthouse is quiet. But somehow, I know he’s still here.

I start breakfast on instinct.

As I cook bacon and eggs, another memory surfaces.

Her confidence. Her certainty. That woman. The one who says he loves her.

The way she spoke as if the outcome were already decided.

If I tell him she came here, he’ll go to her.

He deserves to know. Maybe.

But then I remember how he came home last night, just as he said he would.

Telling him she came here last night would only give him a reason to go see her.

I don’t want that.

I need to find out who she is. I quickly check my phone socials. And search Calder Wynn’s dating life.

An array of images comes up.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. Why am I torturing myself like this? I am completely crazy.

I look back at the results and see her. I click into the story.

Emma Pearce. That’s her name. Lena and I will digitally stalk her later.

I am pouring coffee when footsteps sound behind me.

“Good morning, Mia.”

I don’t turn right away. I let the deep tone of his voice wash over me.

I take a breath, then face him.

Calder stands just inside the kitchen, already dressed in his designer suit for the day.

His expression is calm, controlled, as if the night before has been carefully filed away.

He steps closer and leans in, pressing a brief kiss to my cheek.

It is light. Measured.

My breath catches despite myself.

“I had to use the guest room to shower and change,” he says quietly. “All my clothes are still there. I’ll have them moved back to the master suite today.”

I nod. “Okay. Do you have time for breakfast?”

“I’ll make time for coffee and a quick bite. To make up for missing dinner last night.”

He watches me for a moment, as if gauging my reaction.

“I appreciate that.” I serve us both some eggs and bacon with toast.

“Also, don’t forget the charity event tonight,” he says. “If you’re willing.”

I meet his gaze.

“Of course. I go to every event with you,” I say.

“I know,” he replies. “But this time, I wanted to ask you. As my wife.”

Something inside me shifts.

“I’ll come,” I say with a smile.

He nods, satisfied. “I’ll send wardrobe and makeup around as usual.”

“I’ll make sure I’m home.”

He kisses me again on the cheek. “See you later, Mia.”

I have attended countless events as his wife. But this time feels different.

This time, he chose me.

Later that morning, I meet Lena at the studio.

Work helps clear my head. For a while, everything else fades into the background.

But at one point I am staring into thin air, recalling his words this morning.

Lena sighs. “Okay. Talk to me.”

I hesitate, then say, “Calder wanted the divorce. I made a deal with him and we agreed to something.”

Her brows lift. “What kind of something?”

“One month,” I say. “I am going to be with him for one month. As his real wife.”

Her eyes widen and she grins. “Yes! You get it, girl! I’m proud of you.”

I shrug but the energy is racing around my body. I figured you’re right. I may as well make the most of my last thirty days and being Mrs. Wynn.”

“He agreed to be your husband in every way?”

“He’s moving his things to the master suite today.”

“Mia, you do know what you’re doing? Yes?”

“I do,” I reply.

“I’m worried you’re going to get hurt,” she says plainly.

“Maybe I will,” I say, smiling faintly. “But even if I do, I can handle it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not a child anymore,” I say. “This is my choice.”

She searches my face. “And after the month?”

“I’ll still move forward,” I say. “Without him. Unless he changed his mind. But even so, I’m putting everything I have into getting us that win.”

“This is so exciting!”

I gesture to the designs between us. “I’m committed to this. To the competition. Whatever happens, if we win, I’m going to Paris with you.”

Lena lets out a breath. “I know you won’t let me down. You always keep your commitments.”

“You are more than just a commitment. I know what I’m doing, trust me.”

She squeezes my hand. “I guess I did say to do something reckless....”

“Exactly,” I say. “I blame you.”

We both laugh and get back to work.

That afternoon, designer boxes arrive at the apartment.

To my surprise, Calder walks in behind the delivery.

“Room for one more opinion?” he asks.

I beam at him. “Of course. I’d love your opinion.”

“You’ve got me for an hour. Is that long enough?”

“Yes, if you leave hair and makeup to the stylist.”

“No problem there.” He gives a small, relaxed laugh.

I try on the first dress in the master ensuite and step out into our private sitting room.

He assesses it calmly. “Too many frills.”

I change again.

“I think that one makes you look older.”

We make small talk about designs recycling old looks and I go through a lot of outfits. Normally I just take the one in the color I like best.

Each time, I stand a little closer to him than necessary when I emerge.

He notices.

I can tell by the way his attention sharpens, by the slight delay before he speaks.

Outwardly, he remains composed.

“How about this one?” I ask, stopping directly in front of him in a sky-blue, silhouette gown with plunging neckline and back.

He hesitates. “Yes.”

He steps forward with purpose. He chooses a diamond set and drapes the stunning necklace around my neck.

His fingers make my skin prickle as they brush the back of my neck when he does the clasp up.

“Perfect,” he says.

Then he steps back. “I need to get back to the office…”

“Of course…”

I turn toward the bedroom, already reaching for the dress zipper at my back.

I pull on the zipper. The dress loosens. It slides easily over my shoulders and drops to the floor.

I feel the cool air caress my full breasts just capped with nipple covers and my bottom, bare, in the G-String. 

Then I catch my reflection in the mirror.

Calder is still behind me.

Just watching.

My breath catches and desire rises from my center.

His expression is controlled, as always, but his eyes linger longer than usual.

I meet his heated gaze in the mirror.

He doesn’t look away.

Neither do I.

His eyes rake down my body again. My skin prickles with need. Tiny bumps rise all over me. My nipples press hard against the flimsy restraints.

He takes a single step towards me and I lift my chin, parting my lips.

I see the want in his eyes. I see his attraction and I glance downwards, focusing on the hardened shape of him.

The silence stretches, heavy and unspoken. I make eye contact again.

Then he turns and leaves, breaking the moment first.

I stand there alone, my pulse unsteady, the echo of his gaze still clinging to me.

The mirror reflects a now empty room.

But the tension he leaves behind hasn’t gone anywhere.