Chapter 4: Escape

KELVIN’S POV 

I shouldn’t be here. I should be home dealing with Austin instead of hiding in a hotel room with expensive whiskey and thoughts I’ve been avoiding for months now.

But instead, here I am. The Sterling. Room 206. A place where nobody knows me, where I can sit in silence for one night and pretend I’m not Kelvin Clayton for a few hours.

Not the billionaire everybody expects things from. Not the father constantly hearing rumors about his son and pretending none of it bothers him.

Not the man whose wife’s been dead for fifteen years and he still can’t move on, still wakes up some nights expecting her beside him, still carries something heavy that never really leaves. 

Just…… a man sitting alone in a quiet room trying not to think too much. I pour another drink, watching the amber liquid settle while ice clinks softly against the glass.

Everything in my life usually stays controlled. Tonight doesn’t feel controlled at all. Then I hear the door open.

My head lifts immediately, confusion pulling at my brows because I know damn well I locked it.

And then I see her. Young. Beautiful. Clearly drunk. She stumbles into the room like she belongs here, distracted enough not to even notice there’s somebody already inside.

“I think you have the wrong room,” I say calmly, even though my brain is already cataloging details, already shifting into that sharp awareness I don’t switch off easily.

Dark hair slightly messy. Eyes unfocused from alcohol but still sharp underneath it. And despite the drinking, despite the confusion, there’s something painfully raw about her expression.

Like she’s holding herself together by force alone. But then she looks at me fully. And something in her eyes stops me cold, Loss.

Fresh loss. I know that look. I’ve seen it in mirrors before. “This is my room,” she insists, slurring slightly, her voice uneven but stubborn.

It isn’t. But I don’t correct her right away. Instead, I stand, and when she stumbles, I catch her, my hand closing around her arm before she can fall.

She looks up at me, and I should let go, I should create distance, put space between us before this becomes something else. I should step back, call the front desk, send her to her actual room, and end this before it starts.

But I don’t. “I caught my boyfriend cheating. With my best friend.” And just like that, I understand, not the details but the feeling, the kind of blow that leaves you standing there not knowing what to do next.

The drinking. The wrong room. The recklessness. She’s running from something that’s destroying her, something she doesn’t know how to hold together.

I know what that’s like. “Stay,” I hear myself say, the word out before I can stop it, before I can think it through properly.

What the hell am I doing? She’s young……early twenties at most, barely at the start of her life.

She’s drunk. She’s vulnerable. Everything about this is wrong, every instinct telling me to stop, to fix this, to do the right thing for once. But when she kisses me, when she looks at me with those desperate eyes and says she needs to forget, when her fingers tighten slightly like she’s holding on to something that’s slipping…….

I break, because I need to forget too, more than I admit, more than I allow myself to think about. And for one night…….just one……I let myself be selfish, let myself stop thinking about consequences, about responsibility, about everything that usually controls me.

I let myself take what she’s offering, even though I know I’ll regret it, even though I know this won’t end clean. Even though I know this will complicate everything, more than I can see right now. Even though I know she deserves better than this, better than me, better than whatever this is turning into.

But in the moment, when her lips meet mine and the world narrows to just us, when everything else fades into the background like it doesn’t matter…….I forget why this is a bad idea.

The next morning, I wake before she does, my head clearer, the weight of what we did settling heavy in my chest, heavier than it should be for something that was supposed to mean nothing.

She’s still asleep, face peaceful in a way it wasn’t last night, her breathing even, her body relaxed like the storm inside her paused for a while.

Young. God, what have I done? I should wake her. Apologize. Explain…… say something that makes this less complicated than it already is.

Explain what? That I’m old enough to know better? That I took advantage of her pain, even if she asked for it, even if she chose it?

It's better to pretend this never happened, like it was just a moment, a mistake that fades if we don’t look at it too closely.

I close my eyes, pretending to sleep, keeping my breathing steady, still, like I’m not awake, like I’m not thinking too much.

And when I hear her slip out quietly, the soft sound of movement, the door opening and closing……..guilt and relief mix in equal measure, settling somewhere uncomfortable in my chest.

It’s over. It has to be. I’ll never see her again.

**** SANDRA’S POV ****

Morning comes too fast. I wake slowly, my head pounding, my body sore in ways I don’t want to examine. The room is too bright,I  blink, disoriented.

Then I remember. I sit up carefully, my stomach twisting. The other side of the bed is empty,t he sheets are cold, untouched for a while, like he’s been gone longer than I want to think about.

I don’t look around too much. I can’t because if I start noticing things, I’ll have to acknowledge what I just did. And I’m not ready for that.

I gather my clothes silently, slipping out of bed, dressing quickly in the bathroom. When I step back out, the room is still empty. Good……I grab my phone, my bag, my key card. And I leave. I don’t look back because if I do, I might stay.

**** KEVIN POV’S ****

Two days later, I’m standing in my own house, about to finalize an investment with Joseph Nicholson, going through numbers in my head, keeping everything controlled, everything where it should be.

And she walks through the door. The girl from the hotel. Nicholson’s daughter. Austin’s girlfriend. My son’s girlfriend. For the first time in fifteen years, I have no idea what to do.