Chapter 106

Angela POV

His eyes widened in disbelief, bloodshot from alcohol but still that unmistakable emerald green. For a moment, he just stared, his breath catching as if he'd been punched.

"Angela?" he whispered, his voice breaking. "Is that really you or am I hallucinating?" His fingers trembled as they reached up to touch my face, hesitant and uncertain, as if I might dissolve under his touch.

The overwhelming stench of whiskey hit me as he leaned closer. I had no idea how much he'd been drinking tonight, but it was enough to make my eyes water. his thumb tracing the outline of my cheekbone in a gesture so achingly familiar it made my heart constrict.

"You can't be real," he murmured, his eyes filling with a mixture of wonder and pain. "I've dreamed of finding you so many times..." His fingers tangled in my hair, the touch both gentle and desperate. "Tell me I'm not imagining this."

I could see the war of emotions playing across his features-anger, hurt, longing, and beneath it all, a raw vulnerability that the alcohol had stripped bare.

"Let go of me, Sean!" I hissed, struggling against his grip, trying to ignore how my body still betrayed me with its response to his touch after all these years.

His gaze focused slightly at the sound of my voice, those green eyes-the same ones I saw every day in Ethan's face-searching mine with painful intensity.

His fingers continued their exploration, tracing the contours of my face as if committing them to memory.

"It is you," he breathed, the revelation seeming to hit him anew.

"Where did you go? Why did you..."

His words slurred slightly as he swayed, his weight pressing me further against the wall. His eyes dropped to my lips, and I knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Sean Shaw, if you dare kiss me, I swear you'll regret it," I warned, my voice deadly cold despite my hammering heart.

Suddenly, his body went slack against mine, his considerable weight nearly crushing me as he collapsed.

"Angel," he murmured.

I tried to push him away and stand up, but his arms instinctively tightened around me, pulling me closer in his drunken state.

He seemed to have forgotten we were in a public place, his hand moving to the back of my head, pressing it against his shoulder.

His lips found my neck, the stubble of his five o'clock shadow scraping against my sensitive skin as he planted heated kisses along my collarbone.

An unwelcome electric current shot through my body, awakening sensations I'd fought to forget for five years.

For a moment, I was paralyzed, caught between past and present.

"Angela? Where are you?" Olivia's voice cut through the fog of confusion, snapping me back to reality.

Panic surged through me. I pushed Sean away from me, desperate to create distance before Olivia appeared.

The sudden movement caused him to fall backward, and I instinctively grabbed for him to prevent injury. The motion threw me off balance, and we both tumbled to the floor just as Olivia appeared.

"Angela! What on earth is going on?" Olivia gasped, her eyes wide with shock at the scene before her.

I rose with as much dignity as I could muster, smoothing my dress with practiced composure. "This drunk tried to harass me," I said coolly, the lie slipping easily from my lips.

"Harass you?" Olivia's voice rose in disbelief. "No, that can't be right."

I watched with growing horror as Olivia knelt beside Sean, gently turning his face.

"This is him-the man I've been telling you about! He must have had too much to drink tonight. He's not usually like this."

The realization hit me like a physical blow.

Olivia's mystery man-the one she'd been obsessing over, the one whose "emerald eyes" she'd been rhapsodizing about-was Sean.

My Ex-husband. The father of my children.

"A true gentleman maintains his self-control even when intoxicated," I replied icily, fighting to keep my voice steady. "Alcohol merely reveals one's true nature."

"You don't understand," Olivia insisted. "He's always so polite and dignified. I've never seen him disrespect a woman."

I found myself in an impossible position. I wanted to warn Olivia about Sean's complicated history, about Christina, but couldn't reveal how I knew without exposing our past.

"I should get going," Olivia suggested. "You go ahead. I'll make sure he's alright."

"You barely know him," I protested, genuine concern for her safety mingling with a strange, unwelcome possessiveness. "That's dangerous."

Olivia's face softened with determination. "If there are consequences, they're mine to bear."

"How much do you actually know about him?" I asked carefully, trying to gauge exactly what Olivia understood about Sean's life. "His personal life? Is he... seeing anyone?"

"He's definitely single," Olivia insisted with such confidence that I nearly laughed. "If he were married or had a girlfriend, he wouldn't be drinking alone in bars."

I felt my resolve hardening. "I can't let you take this risk, Olivia."

"What's gotten into you tonight?" Olivia's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "I've never seen you this tense."

After a moment of internal debate, I relented slightly. "How do you plan to handle this situation?"

"There's a hotel nearby. I'll help him get a room to sleep it off."

"Fine," I conceded, seeing no other option that wouldn't raise more questions. "We'll get him to a hotel, make sure he's safe, then leave immediately."

The Plaza Hotel's elegant lobby was nearly empty when we arrived, having managed to half-carry, half-drag Sean through the entrance. Olivia approached the front desk, leaving me struggling to support Sean's weight.

Despite myself, I noticed the familiar scent of citrus mingled with whiskey that clung to him.

His unconscious face was relaxed, years of tension erased in sleep, making him look almost like the boy I had known in my youth. A dangerous nostalgia tugged at my heart, and I ruthlessly suppressed it.

"I need a room for tonight," Olivia was saying to the receptionist. "My friend is... unwell."

The receptionist looked skeptically at Sean's slumped form. "I'll need the guest's identification for check-in purposes."

"He's indisposed at the moment," Olivia explained. "Can't we make an exception? He's an important client."

"I'm sorry, madam. Hotel policy requires-"

"It's fine," I interrupted, stepping forward.

Without thinking, I reached into Sean's inner jacket pocket where he had always kept his wallet, extracted it, and removed his ID card and credit card, which I handed to the receptionist.

Only when I caught Olivia staring at me, mouth slightly agape, did I realize my mistake.

"How did you know where his wallet was?" she asked, suspicion clouding her features.