All Chapters of Don’t Beg for Love : Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

The moment the island’s name registered, I froze completely, my eyes locked on the screen like the letters might rearrange themselves into something less impossible if I just stared hard enough.Windemere Island.Memories came crashing in before I could brace myself against them, a flood of sensation rather than anything orderly. Sunlight scattered across turquoise water, bright enough that I used to squint against it even from behind sunglasses. Bare feet sinking into warm sand at midnight, his hand folded around mine as we walked the length of that private beach with nowhere else in the world to be. Laughter that used to come easily back then, unguarded in a way I hadn’t managed since, back before I understood exactly what that particular happiness would eventually cost me. And beneath all of it, underneath the golden, sun-soaked version of those two weeks that I still occasionally dreamed about against my own will, something darker waited, patient and unmoving, something I’d spen

His rigid body eased against mine, slowly, like something inside him had finally let go of whatever had been holding it so tightly in place for the past however many hours he’d spent curled up in that corner. Relief washed through me at the small, unmistakable shift, my own shoulders dropping an inch I hadn’t realized I’d been holding them up against.Then he stood, scooping me straight up into his arms without a word of warning, no hesitation in the motion at all despite everything his body should have been fighting against.He carried me out of that smoke-filled room, down the hallway, into another bedroom entirely, one that smelled faintly of clean linen instead of liquor and cigarettes, the contrast sharp enough that I actually felt my lungs loosen the moment we crossed the threshold. I couldn’t help the small flicker of surprise at how steady he managed to stay through all of it, given the state he was in. I would have expected him to stumble at least once, to clip a shoulder aga

Shock hit me so hard my breath caught somewhere in my throat.I’d been certain, absolutely certain, that whatever alcohol had been running through his system earlier had worked its way out by now. His voice had sounded clear, controlled, nothing slurred about it at all.Send me back?Had I actually heard that right?“Excuse me?” The word came out thinner than I wanted it to.He turned to look at me directly this time, his expression unreadable. “The helicopter is already on its way. You should get ready to head back to the city.”I sat there stunned for the second time within the same five minutes, unable to find a single word to push past the lump forming in my throat.He’d already turned his attention back to the television by the time I managed to process what he’d said, his face impassive, completely unbothered, like he hadn’t just upended everything between us with a single sentence. I found myself studying his profile, searching for some trace of the man who’d carried me out of

Annalise’s POVAt the Sterling MansionThe dining table stretched long enough to seat the entire family comfortably, every inch of it covered tonight in celebration. Roast duck glazed dark and glossy sat at the center, flanked by steaming bowls of truffle risotto, a whole grilled fish dressed in herbs, platters of dumplings stacked in careful towers, and a cake waiting on the sideboard with “Welcome Home, Amy” piped across it in delicate gold icing. Candles flickered along the centerpiece, their light catching the crystal glasses Mom had pulled out specifically for the occasion, and somewhere in the background, soft music played low enough to let conversation carry over it without competing.Laughter kept rising and falling around the table, Xander teasing Dad about some golf game, Mom fussing over whether Cassandra had eaten enough protein, the whole scene stitched together with an ease that felt, on any other night, like something worth savoring.None of it reached me tonight, no ma

Andrew’s POVFive Years LaterSilence in my office always felt louder than it had any right to be, especially at moments like this, when I wasn’t drowning myself in a stack of contracts or shuttling between back-to-back meetings that bled into each other without distinction, one city indistinguishable from the next by the time I landed back home. The quiet settled in differently than most people probably imagined. It wasn’t peaceful. It pressed against my ears, thick and expectant, like the whole room was waiting for me to finally stop running from whatever I’d been outrunning for five straight years, patient in the way only an empty room can be, since it had nowhere else to be and neither, apparently, did I.Exhaustion lived in me permanently by now, not the kind sleep could fix. I’d tried that too, long stretches of it some weekends, entire days blacked out behind drawn curtains, and I’d wake up feeling exactly as hollowed out as when I’d shut my eyes. Work had become the only thin