Chapter 4
The sunlight filtered through the thick curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. Frank stirred, his mind still hazy from the late night, but something felt different today. The weight of his body was heavier, and the space beside him on the bed felt colder than usual.
He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the daylight, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw her. Emma.
She lay there, her dark hair spread out on the pillow, her face serene in sleep. For a moment, Frank just watched her, his chest tightening with a mixture of emotions. The events of the previous night rushed back into his mind—everything they had shared. It wasn't just a fleeting connection. It had been... intense. Too intense for a one-night stand.
He had never allowed himself to get so close to anyone. Relationships, for him, were always about control. But last night had been different. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about Emma had pulled him in, and now, the reality of their situation was sinking in.
The sound of Emma stirring broke him from his thoughts. She shifted in the bed, blinking as she slowly woke up. She didn't seem to notice him right away. Her eyes fluttered open, and when she saw Frank lying beside her, her expression shifted from confusion to shock.
Her hand immediately flew to her head, as if trying to piece together what had happened. Her breath hitched, and Frank could see the panic starting to set in. She looked at him, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"What... what happened last night?" she asked, her voice soft, as if afraid to ask.
Frank sat up slowly, running a hand through his messy hair. "You don't remember?"
Emma shook her head, her face flushed with embarrassment. "I... I remember bits and pieces, but it's all a blur. I didn't think…" She trailed off, struggling to find the right words.
Frank's mind raced. He had been the one to offer her a ride home, to help her get back on her feet, and somewhere along the way, things had gone too far. But it was never supposed to be like this. He had never intended to make things complicated.
"I'm sorry," Emma murmured, her voice barely audible. She pulled the sheets tighter around her body, clearly uncomfortable.
Frank's heart ached at the sight of her unease. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She wasn't supposed to wake up feeling like this.
He reached out, gently placing a hand on her arm. "Hey, don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong."
Emma pulled away slightly, her gaze falling to the bed as if she were searching for answers in the sheets. "I didn't expect... this. I didn't expect anything."
Frank exhaled, trying to steady his racing thoughts. "Neither did I." His voice was low, almost regretful. He knew he needed to be honest with her. "But we can't pretend it didn't happen. We're both here now, and whatever happens next… we have to deal with it."
Emma swallowed, her eyes flickering with a mix of emotions. "What does that mean? What do we do now?"
Frank hesitated. He could see the confusion in her eyes, the uncertainty, and a part of him wished he had the answers. But this wasn't something he could fix with a quick solution.
"I don't know," he admitted, his voice quiet. "But we need to talk about it."
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the situation hanging in the air between them. The intimacy of last night felt like a distant memory, replaced by the cold reality of the morning after.
Emma finally broke the silence. "I need to go," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Frank nodded, his chest tightening as he watched her pull herself from the bed. He knew it was probably the best decision neither of them was ready for what had happened, and the space might give them both time to think.
But part of him didn't want her to leave.
She grabbed her clothes from the floor, hastily pulling them on. Frank sat still, watching her, his mind racing. He had spent so much of his life in control, managing his family's wealth, his reputation, and his future. But now, here he was, struggling to figure out what to do with the mess he had made.
"I'll call you a cab," he said finally, his voice softer now.
Emma didn't respond immediately, but her eyes met his. There was something in her gaze something conflicted, something searching for reassurance.
"Frank, I don't know what I'm supposed to feel right now. Last night... it wasn't planned. It wasn't supposed to happen like this."
"I know," he replied, his voice almost a whisper. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this."
Emma didn't say anything else. She finished getting dressed, pulling on her jacket and adjusting her hair. She was trying to appear calm, but Frank could see the unease still in her eyes. He wanted to say something to make it better, but the words wouldn't come.
"Here," Frank said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a business card and handed it to her. "If you need anything, just call."
She took the card but didn't look at it immediately. Instead, her gaze lingered on him for a long moment. Then, she nodded, wordlessly leaving the room.
Frank watched her leave, his heart heavy with something he couldn't quite name. This wasn't just a fleeting encounter. This had been real more real than he'd ever expected.
And as the door clicked shut behind her, Frank felt a wave of uncertainty wash over him. What would he do now? Would he ever see her again?
The thought of never seeing Emma again left a knot in his stomach, but he couldn't chase after her. Not now. Not yet.
But one thing was certain: this was far from over.