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Better to go home. Shower. Breathe.

Still, a part of her stung. He left right after sleeping with her, just like he used to. ‘He hasn’t changed. He’d walked away right after sleeping with me. Again. he never cared. It’s always about him.’

She shook her head, angry at herself for expecting anything different. Within five minutes, she was dressed—back in the black slip dress and heels she had worn earlier that night. No makeup, no fix-up. Just escape.

Purse in hand, ready to leave.

But just as she climbed down the stairs, and stepped into the hallway—she froze.

Adrian was in the kitchen. Shirtless. Cooking.

His back to her as he stood at the stove, broad shoulders tense, muscles flexing with every movement. The morning sunlight slanted through the windows, catching on his dark hair and the veins that ran down his strong arms.

The moment he heard her footsteps, he turned.

Then, immediately, he strode toward her.

Before she could react, he bent low, scooped her effortlessly into his arms, and carried her straight to the dining table.

She gasped, shocked.

“Adrian—what—”

He sat her down gently, one large hand cupping her cheek. His brows were drawn together, concern etched in every line of his face.

“Do you feel uncomfortable?” he asked, his deep voice soft but intense.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, still stunned.

He gave a soft nod, his eyes scanning her face carefully. Then he turned and grabbed a plate of scrambled eggs, setting it in front of her.

Noticing the glass of milk, he quietly took it away and replaced it with a steaming cup of coffee.

She blinked in surprise, her eyes shooting up to him. “You know I don’t like milk?”

Adrian dragged his chair closer, angling his body fully toward her. “Of course I know,” he said, voice low. “I’ve always known. I just wasn’t the kind of man who showed it. But I’m done being that guy.”

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Then he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers with a soft, slow kiss. “I’ll take good care of you from now on. That’s a promise.”

He leaned in again to kiss her deeper, but she turned her face away, pulling back just as his lips neared hers.

She took a few quick sips of coffee, then stood abruptly. “I need to go home,” she said quietly and turned away from him.

She started to walk away, only to stop in her tracks. ‘My phone?’ Her heart skipped a beat. She rummaged through her bag, but it wasn’t there.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around and walked back upstairs. The bedroom was just as she had left it—unmade and still heavy with silence.

Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on her phone lying near the closet door. She walked over, picked it up, and turned to leave. But then she froze. Her eyes lifted and through the glass door on the other side, she saw it.

Her eyes widened.

There were women’s clothes hanging inside.

Stunning dresses. Delicate fabrics. Expensive brands.

Her heart sank.

‘So he already has another woman living here? And now he’s trying to add me to the list?’