Chapter 22: Morning After

Hailey's POV

I woke up to sunlight pouring through the windows and the weight of Maxwell's arm across my waist.

For one happy second, I didn't remember anything. Just felt warm and cozy, wrapped in expensive sheets with a strong body pressed against my back

Then memory crashed in.

Oh my god.

Last night. The shower. The bedroom. His hands on my skin, his mouth on mine, the way I'd completely given in to him...

My eyes flew open.

We'd had sex. Real, desperate, sex.

And now we were tangled together in his bed like an actual couple instead of two people maintaining a business arrangement.

What the hell did we do?

I felt him shift behind me, his breathing changing as he woke up.

My entire body went stiff.

His arm tightened slightly around my waist, an unconscious movement that felt too natural.

I needed to move. Needed to think without his body pressed against mine reminding me of exactly how good last night had felt.

I slipped out from under his arm too quickly, nearly falling off the bed in my rush to get away.

"Hailey..." Max said, voice rough with sleep.

"I need to shower." The words rushed out as I grabbed the first clothes I could find from the floor. "Gio will be up soon and Susan's supposed to take him to school but I should check on him first and..."

I didn't finish the sentence. Just fled to the bathroom and locked the door behind me.

Pressed my back against it, breathing hard, my heart pounding so loud I thought it might break through my ribs.

Get it together. Get it together right NOW.

I was in the shower, the place where this whole disaster had started, mocked me as I turned on the water. I stripped quickly, refusing to look at my reflection, and stepped under the spray.

My body ached in places that reminded me exactly what we'd done. Marks on my neck from his mouth. The soreness between my thighs. Real evidence I couldn't ignore.

I scrubbed my skin like I could wash away the memory. It didn't work.

When I finally came out, dressed in jeans and an oversized sweater, hair still damp, feeling like I'd been absolutely wrecked, Maxwell was standing in the bedroom.

He'd changed too. He wore dark slacks, white shirt rolled at the sleeves, looking completely put-together while I felt like a complete disaster.

Our eyes met across the room..

"Hailey, we need to talk about..."

"Where's Gio?" I cut him off, unable to deal with whatever he was about to say. "Is he awake yet? Did Susan already get him?"

"She's with him downstairs getting breakfast ready." His voice was carefully controlled. "But we're not done here."

"I really should check on him before she takes him to school." I moved toward the door, needing to escape the room.

"You're running." His words stopped me at the door.

"I'm not running. I'm being a mother." I couldn't look at him. "My son needs me."

"Your son is fine with Susan." His voice was slightly raised. "What you're doing is avoiding this conversation because you're terrified of what last night meant."

"There's nothing to talk about." The lie tasted so bitter on my tongue. "We both needed it, it was stress relief. That's all."

"Stress relief." He repeated it slowly, and I heard him move closer. "Is that really what you're going with?"

"What else would it be?" I finally turned to face him. "We're both under insane pressure. The hearing was devastating. I was falling apart and you were there and things happened. It doesn't have to mean anything beyond that."

"So you're just going to pretend last night didn't happen? He was close enough now that I could smell his cologne, and felt his body heat " Pretend we didn't cross every line we'd drawn?"

"If that's what it takes to keep functioning, then yes. Absolutely yes." My voice cracked slightly, backing away from him. "I don't have the luxury of falling apart over complicated feelings right now. My son is about to have his first supervised visit with a father he doesn't even know in two weeks, and that's literally all I can handle thinking about."

And I left before he could say anything else. Gio was at the kitchen table when I came down, Susan was setting a plate of pancakes in front of him.

"Mommy!" His whole face lit up when he saw me.

I pulled him into a hug, maybe holding on a little too tight, breathing in his familiar kid-smell of sleep and blueberry shampoo.

"Morning, baby." I tried to keep my voice natural. "How was your night?"

"It was good! Susan made the pancakes with chocolate chips like Daddy does." He pulled back, studying my face with those too-knowing violet-blue eyes. "Are you okay? You look weird."

My stomach dropped. "Weird how, baby?"

"I don't know. Your face is all red. And your eyes look puffy like when you've been crying." He tilted his head, studying me. "Were you crying again?"

"No, baby. Just tired." I forced a smile that felt like it might crack my face. "Yesterday was a long day."

"You've been tired a lot lately." His expression shifted to concern. "And sad. Are you still sad, Mommy?"

The question gutted me because I had no idea how to answer it.

Was I sad? Terrified? Confused? Falling for someone I absolutely couldn't afford to fall for while trying to protect my son from a custody battle I might lose?

"I'm okay, I promise." The lies seems to be slipping out more easily. "Just some grown-up stuff I'm dealing with."

"What kind of grown-up stuff?" He wasn't letting it go.

Footsteps on the stairs made me tense.

Maxwell appeared in the kitchen doorway, and Gio's eyes immediately went back and forth between us.

"You and Daddy both look weird today." Gio said. "Different weird. Like something happened."

"We're both just tired, buddy." Maxwell's voice was steady as he moved to the coffee maker. "It was a long week."

"But you look at each other different now." Gio pressed, his gaze way too sharp for someone his age. "Like you're scared of each other or something. Did you have a fight?"

"Gio, eat your breakfast." Susan intervened gently. "We need to leave for school soon."

Gio sighed dramatically but picked up his fork, still watching us with suspicious eyes.

I stood there frozen, unable to move, feeling Maxwell's presence like a physical weight across the kitchen.

"Hailey..." Maxwell said, coffee in hand.

"I should get some work done before the day starts." I cut him off. "I've got emails. Board stuff. You know."

His phone buzzed before he could respond.

He glanced at the screen. "It's the board. Must be something important."

"Then you should take it." Relief flooded through me. "Go. I've got Gio."

"We're not done talking about this."

"Yes we are." I was already backing toward the hallway. "We have to be."

I fled to my bedroom before he could argue, closing the door and pressing my back against it as I heard his voice answer the phone in the other room.

My hands were shaking.

What am I doing?

Last night had been everything I'd been trying not to want. Everything I'd sworn I wouldn't let myself feel again.

And now I had no idea what it meant.

Was it just crisis sex? Comfort after the worst day? Or was it something deeper, something real, something that terrified me more than Floyd's custody claim?

I moved through the room mechanically, trying to focus on anything else.

Then I saw it.

His shirt from last night. The one he'd been wearing in the shower. The one I'd practically torn off him.

It was draped over a chair, buttons missing, fabric wrinkled.

I picked it up slowly, and without thinking, pressed it to my face.

It smelled like him. Expensive cologne and something uniquely belonging to Maxwell that made my chest physically ache.

No. No, no, why?

The realization slammed into me.

I was falling for him.

Actually, genuinely, terrifyingly falling for the man I'd married out of desperation. The man who was supposed to be temporary. The man who'd walk away in six months when our contract ended and leave me exactly like Floyd had.

I was falling, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it.

The shirt slipped from my fingers onto the floor.

And I had no idea what the hell came next.