Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 20
She gripped the edge of the sink, breathing through it, confused.
{Ivory’s Private Residence – Morning}
Ivory woke earlier than usual, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through her curtains, and it took her a moment to register that she wasn’t on the living room couch.
She was in her bed. Under her duvet. Tucked in properly.
The memory came rushing back in fragments — the K-drama, the tears she hadn’t meant to cry, the exhaustion pulling her under somewhere around the third episode.
I don’t tuck myself in like this, she thought, sitting up sharply. And I definitely don’t carry myself upstairs.
There was only one other person in this house.
HIM?
She stormed out of her room and down the hall, bursting into Duane’s without knocking, fully prepared to unleash every ounce of fury she’d been saving up.
He’d just stepped out of the shower.
Water still clung to his skin, droplets sliding down the broad expanse of his chest, a towel slung low around his waist.
“Did you—” Her words died completely in her throat.
She stared, helpless, at the chest he apparently enjoyed flaunting far too often, at the sharp lines of muscle, at the way water traced paths she had absolutely no business noticing.
Get it together, she screamed internally, forcing her eyes upward, away from his body entirely.
“Did you carry me to my room last night?” she demanded, voice sharper than intended, desperate to reclaim some kind of control over the situation.
“It’s not a big deal,” Duane said, entirely unbothered, grabbing a shirt from the closet. “That’s twice now I’ve carried you when you drink yourself to stupor. You’re surprisingly light. Did you not eat yesterday?”
She cursed under her breath, flipping him her middle fingers instead of dignifying that with an answer.
“You know,” he continued, pulling the shirt over his head, “I also noticed you were crying. Over a romance movie. Real tough, hardened businesswoman you are.”
Ivory’s whole face went hot. He saw. He actually saw.
“Get out of my sight,” she snapped, though there was nowhere for him to go since it was, in fact, his room, the absurdity of the demand lost entirely in her panic.
She glared at him one final time before spinning around and storming out, slamming the door behind her hard enough to rattle the frame.
Alone again, Duane huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head as he finished dressing.
He reached for a phone, he saw in the room — Ivory’s old one, technically, sitting on his nightstand ,he wondered if she just throws expennsive phones anywhere around, she’s rich tho He dialed a familiar number. at this rate, he will just take one of the phones as his, he doesn’t need her permission.
He found himself grinning at the memory of Ivory’s earlier accusation.
She actually thought my mum was my girlfriend, he thought, laughing quietly to himself. If only she knew.
He tucked the phone away, still smiling, and headed downstairs for the day ahead.
{Rodriguez Mansion – Morning}
Tyler sat slumped on the floor of his study, back against the wall, knees drawn up, the divorce papers still crumpled somewhere nearby where he’d thrown them the night before.
He’d cried for hours. There was nothing left now. Just a hollow, aching emptiness where his chest used to be.
I really love her, he thought, staring blankly at nothing. I really do.
His phone had buzzed with her calls throughout . He hadn’t answered a single one. He didn’t know what he’d even say if he did.
It’s my fault, he admitted silently. All of it. If I’d just blocked her number the first time she called instead of letting her keep trying, if I hadn’t been afraid of how she’d react, none of this would have happened.
His ex-girlfriend’s calls had started weeks ago, persistent, desperate, refusing to accept that things between them were long over. He’d meant to handle it quietly, meant to shut it down before it ever became a problem.
Instead, it had ended his marriage before he’d even gotten the chance to try.
He buried his face in his hands, the weight of everything he’d lost pressing down on him like a physical thing.
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