Alexis returned to the bedroom wearing only a maroon bathrobe, letting her slightly damp hair cascade down her shoulders. She used a small towel to dry her hair but froze when she saw Greyson lying on the bed, shirtless.
She swallowed hard, her eyes nearly unblinking.
"Oh my fucking God! Am I dreaming? Greyson Whitmore is here with me, in this room... He's so fucking hot!"
Suddenly, the phone on the nightstand rang, waking him up. He lifted his head, noticing her presence.
"Oh, hey…" He sat up quickly and smiled awkwardly. "Sorry… I fell asleep. I wanted to talk to you, but you took so long in the bathroom that I dozed off." He explained while putting his black shirt back on.
"Um…" she nodded. "It's okay…"
"What?" he squinted his eyes. "Don't you mind if I sleep here?" he asked with a teasing smile.
"Um, I…" she turned her face away. "I don't know. This is your place, I mean… You have the right to sleep wherever you want. I wouldn't dare to stop you after everything you've done for me and my sad… You've been too kind."
He chuckled, observing how nervous she looked. He couldn't deny that her natural appearance only made her look even cuter.
"You should answer that call," she said, glancing at his phone, which was still ringing.
He picked up the phone, saw that it was an incoming call from Mother, but instead of answering it, he put it back down.
"Why aren't you answering it?" she asked
"It's not important," he replied as he got up from the bed.
She remained silent, watching him approach her slowly, his shirt still unbuttoned.
"What are you doing?" she asked, stepping back.
He smiled, reaching for the tie on her bathrobe while keeping his eyes on her face. "You know, making yourself look sexy in front of me is dangerous, especially since I just woke up," he murmured as he tightened the bathrobe tie.
She looked down. "Sorry… I didn't know you were here."
"But you said I had the right to sleep wherever I want, so you'd better be careful. I might suddenly decide to sleep in this room," she said casually, tilting her chin up so their eyes met. He took a deep breath, inhaling her fresh scent. "You know, women are always the most alluring right after they shower…"
She said nothing, her heart pounding as she found herself unable to look away from him.
"Fresh, clean… and you… You look so beautiful without any makeup," he whispered, caressing her lips and then her cheek. "What if I want you?" he asked softly.
"I don't know," she whispered.
"Would you push me away?"
"No…"
"But why?"
"I don't know… Maybe because you've been too kind to me," she explained nervously.
He smiled faintly. "So that's why you can't refuse me?"
She looked down, unable to respond.
He sighed, lowering his lips near her ear. "You know… I really want you, but I also want to respect you. You're a good girl. Stick to your principles… and have the courage to say no if you don't truly want this," he whispered.
She stayed silent, sneaking a glance at him as he slowly stepped back. 'He's right… but why do I want him so much?'
"You should get some rest now," he said.
"Yes, besides, I want to call the nurse," she quickly grabbing her phone from the bag on the sofa.
He left the room, only to hear the doorbell ring. He frowned, hurrying to open the front door, and froze when he saw who was there.
Clara Everett, his wife. She stood there with a sad look, immediately hugging him tightly.
"Greyson …"
"Clara…" he held her, noticing her all-black attire. "What happened?"
"I'm broken… I'm shattered!"
"Hey… What do you mean…" he pulled away, frowning as he looked at her tear-streaked face. "Okay, um… Let's sit over there."
He led her to the sofa, where they sat together. He sighed, watching her anxiously, her pale face and swollen eyes showed her grief.
"What happened?" he whispered.
"Ryan had an accident… he's died," Clara replied, tears falling freely. "He was gone before I could even tell him I'm carrying his child."
He froze.
"I don't know what to do… I…" she broke down completely. "I'm so shattered; I don't know how to face life like this!"
He hugged her again, stroking her hair gently.
"Calm down… I'm here… Okay? It's okay to cry," he whispered anxiously, recalling their previous plans.
Flashback
In a bedroom, Greyson and Clara sat facing each other in matching blue pajamas, each holding a glass of red wine.
"Okay, deals. You need to find a girl who'll help with our divorce plan as soon as possible. After that… I'll move to London with Ryan," she said with a smile.
He simply smiled.
"You don't mind, do you?" shr raised an eyebrow.
He nodded with a warm smile. "I'll do anything to help you gain your freedom from this unpleasant marriage," he replied.
"Greyson ... this isn't just for me, but for you too!" she countered, holding his hand. "I want you to find true love… to marry someone who loves you for who you are. I want both of us to experience a beautiful marriage—you with the girl of your choice and me with Ryan."
He nodded with a smile, though a hint of reluctance showed in his eyes.
"Okay, I have to go now," she said, getting up. "I don't want to keep Ryan waiting too long."
He remained silent, watching her hurriedly walk toward the changing room. He sighed and downed the rest of his wine.
'Enough… she never wanted you. She's never seen you as a partner, but only a friend!' he reminded himself.
End of Flashback
Alexis finished drying her hair, stood up from her chair, and touched her neck.
"I think I'm dehydrated," she muttered before opening the door.
The house seemed quiet, but faint voices reached her ears. She decided against heading to the kitchen and turned toward the living room, where she saw him sitting with Clara resting against his chest.
"She's here…" she took a deep breath as her chest tightened. 'They look so perfect together… so comfortable. Then why do they want a divorce? Are they really want a divorce, or has Greyson been fooling me?'
Standing frozen in curiosity, she couldn't look away when Clara turned and noticed her.
"Hey…" she moved away from Ryan, her eyes fixed on Alexis. "Who is she?" she asked him.
"She…" Greyson suddenly looked nervous, occasionally glancing at Alexis, who stood there awkwardly.
"Wait…" Clara stood, wiping her tears, and studied Greyson's rumpled shirt and Alexis' bathrobe-clad appearance. "Are you…"
"I'm just his contract mistress," Alexis interrupted before Clara could finish. She approached with a fake smile. "You must be Clara," she said, extending her hand.
Clara remained silent, look at Alexis from head to toe.
"Clara…" Greyon stood, wrapping an arm around Clara's waist. "I know you're sad and tired. You should rest." He lead her toward a room.
Alexis stood still, swallowing hard, recalling how Greyson had been so caring toward Clara and how she had looked at her disapprovingly.
'I don't know why… I feel unwanted. Why did he even need me as a contract mistress when his wife is beautiful, and they seem so comfortable together? And he… he seems so caring toward her as a husband.'