Chapter 2: The Morning After

Xavier

I woke with a pounding headache and a woman lying beside me.

For several seconds, I stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, trying to remember how I had ended up in the hotel room. Then fragments of the previous night returned. I remembered the drink, the strange heat spreading through my body, and a woman standing near the door with flowers. She had insisted that she was only there to make a delivery.

I remembered moving towards her while she backed away, telling me to stop and asking to leave. She struggled, frightened and confused, until exhaustion quieted her. The memory made my stomach tighten. Whatever I had believed at the time, her fear had been real. I could not pretend that her silence meant she had wanted what happened between us.

My phone rang before I could make sense of anything else.

“What?” I answered sharply.

“Good morning, sir,” my assistant said. “I’m calling about last night.”

“What about it?”

“The old lady asked me to arrange a woman for you. She also told me to make sure you drank what she prepared.”

I sat up, my headache suddenly forgotten. “My mother told you to do that?”

“Yes, sir. She wants you to settle down, and she thought this might help.”

Anger rose through me. My mother had once again interfered in my private life, treating me like a child who could not make his own decisions. I glanced at the woman beside me. My assistant had brought her to the room, and now he had confirmed that my mother had arranged a woman for me.

My expression turned cold.

“Never interfere in my private life like this again,” I warned him.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

I ended the call and turned towards the woman. She was awake, clutching the sheet around herself and watching me cautiously.

“Why are you still here?” I asked. “Didn’t my mother pay you?”

Her brows drew together. “Pay me? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know why you’re here.”

“I came to deliver flowers!” she snapped. “Your assistant brought me here. I told him that, but he wouldn’t listen.”

I remembered her mentioning flowers, but I was too angry to consider her explanation properly. I had already decided she was the woman my mother arranged.

“Is that how your parents trained you?” I asked coldly. “To sleep with strangers for money?”

Her face fell, and for a moment she looked as if she might cry. Instead, she lifted her chin.

“You don’t know anything about me,” she said. “I never asked to be here.”

She gathered her clothes and hurried towards the door. I let her leave, telling myself I had no reason to care what she thought of me. Still, the frightened look in her eyes stayed in my mind longer than I wanted.

At the hospital, I tried to concentrate on my work. I was a doctor, and my patients deserved my attention. Yet I found myself distracted during a meeting, replaying the morning in my head.

My assistant appeared beside my office door with a file.

“Get out,” I told him.

He hesitated, then left without another word. I rubbed my forehead, frustrated with my mother, my assistant, and the mess they had created. I had no answer. I pushed the woman’s face from my thoughts and returned to work.

Amelia

When I returned home, Ethan’s mother was waiting in the living room.

“Where have you been?” she demanded. “You think you can come and go whenever you like?”

“I was working,” I answered quietly.

She picked up a glass cup and threw it towards me. It shattered against the wall, making me jump.

“You useless orphan! You can’t even do one thing properly.”

I stared at the broken pieces. I wanted to defend myself, but I knew that arguing would only make things worse.

“Why are you walking like that?” she asked, noticing my discomfort.

“I hurt my foot at work,” I lied.

“Or perhaps you were busy cheating on my son!”

“No, ma.”

She scoffed and ordered me to prepare food. I swallowed my anger and obeyed. I had nowhere else to go, and I was afraid of losing Ethan. He had defended me when people mocked me for being an orphan. I kept reminding myself of that whenever his mother made me feel worthless.

When Ethan came home, I tried to tell him what had happened.

“Please, just respect my mother,” he said impatiently. “Do whatever she asks. I don’t want problems in this house.”

His words hurt, but I lowered my eyes instead of arguing. A moment later, his phone rang. His voice softened as he answered.

“Baby, I’ll call you later,” he murmured.

He ended the call when he noticed me looking at him.

“It’s a difficult client,” he explained. “You know how things are with my startup.”

I wanted to believe him, so I nodded. He read another message and left the room, saying he needed to handle something.

The next morning, I took my delivery bike out to work. I was thinking about the bills I needed to pay when a black SUV appeared ahead of me. I swerved, but my bike scraped the front of the vehicle.

“Oh no!” I cried, jumping down. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to!”

The driver’s door opened. A tall man stepped out, his expression cold.

I recognised him instantly: the man from the hotel room.

His eyes narrowed. “You again?”

My heart sank. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I’m sorry.”

He gave me a humourless smile. “We’ll see how long you can keep pretending.”

I stared at him, shocked. I had no idea how I would pay for the damage, and I couldn’t understand why he kept treating me like I had planned everything.

All I wanted was to get through the day without another problem. Inste

ad, I had somehow found myself facing the same man again.