บททั้งหมดของ His to Consume : บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

Lena stepped inside her apartment and let the door settle with a soft hit behind her. For a split second, she simply stood there, leaning on it until the silence of her house engulfed her. The day had indeed been long and tiring, and she could feel the exhaustion coming from the thought of the trip that lay ahead of her. She shut her eyelids, inhaling the air before breathing it out audibly after some time, all the air in her lungs leaving them in a quick and unsteady manner. Eventually, she took a push off the door and proceeded to the direction of her room. Each movement weighed more than the previous one, as though, at last, her physique was acknowledging the exhaustion of the day. When she finally entered her room, she froze at the threshold, studying the well-known area. The made-up bed which had been made the previous morning seemed to be extremely comfortable, but her attention was elsewhere, on the chest of drawers that was across the room. She heaved a breath and turned to

The flight attendants started the service after the seatbelt sign was turned off. Lena opened her eyes and exhaled a breath she never knew she was holding. She squirmed in her seat, reclining it a little, and attempted to ease tension in her muscles which, however, felt tightly coiled in a stress knot. A flight attendant with a courteous expression on her face came up to her. “Good evening, madam. May I offer you a drink or some food?” She looked up in hopes of returning a similar courtesy smile. “Yes, please. Only water for the time being, however.” The attendant made a gesture which meant ‘yes’. “And what would you like for your order? Grilled chicken with vegetables or a vegetarian pasta?” “The chicken sounds good,” came a light reply from Lena, sounding rather weak. The attendant exhaled, stating that it would be out soon and returned to the next row. While Lena bounced back again, she shut her eyes again for a while but her inner fidgety annoyance held her from staying still

Lena followed the steward carrying her stowed bags toward the elevator. The body ached after a lengthy flight. Sadly, every step seemed heavier. The steward, so impeccably dressed in a hotel uniform, moved swifter with a demeanor that could be described as polite but efficient. He then opened the elevator door and gestured for her to step in. The ride up was quiet and peaceful, accompanied by the soft humming of the elevator. Lena surveyed her reflection on the polished walls and took a good stare at how tired she was. Her hair was slightly out of shape from her earlier messy bun because of dark circles under her eyes, which were much more pronounced under the brightness of the elevator's interior lighting. She made a mental note to fix herself before doing anything else. At the other side of the elevator doors, the steward escorted her along a wide, thickly carpeted hallway with walls that displayed contemporary artworks, each piece of which was spotlighted with warm illumination.

Lena stood pressed back against the door of her hotel room with a racing mind. Had she actually seen him? Or her mind was playing tricks on her? Grant was not supposed to be there. He was supposed to be at home drowning in business meetings and dealing with Damien. Anyhow, the reason for accepting this invitation for a seminar was to distance them... from the sordid tension building at work, not having the much-needed conversations, and even from all those memories that she wanted to forget.Breathe, Lena, she told herself. She took a deep breath and put her ear to the door and listened. No sound, no footsteps coming closer. With slow caution, she turned the lock and opened the door just a sliver, peeking out into the hallway. Empty. Her heart slowed its wild beating. Perhaps she had only imagined him. After all, she was sick, hungry, and drained emotionally. It would hardly be a stretch for her mind to come up with a familiar face, especially one weighed by so many unresolved feel

Lena's POV The restaurant door shut after me, but the chill evening air couldn't expel the hurricane of frustration curled in my chest. My feet walked down the cobbled road toward the hotel, while my brain replayed words Grant had said in my head. "Prove to you that this is worth it." His voice mocked me, and I could not fight the impulse to ignore it. What does he think? That he can just walk back into my life and everything will be okay? With promises? With confessions of care? It does not work like that. Not after all that he has done. My fists tightened inside my coat pockets, the nails digging into my palms. You don't have to break up with someone, walk away, and then come back because it is convenient for you, Grant. When we were together, I would give him everything. My time, my trust, my heart. And when things got tough, he finished it. Just as easy as that-without warnings, without explanation. He left me standing there, wondering what I had done wrong. Those nights w