POV: Chase
I wake up alone, which isn't unusual. What is unusual is the champagne glass on Elise's nightstand, still full, untouched, like she never came to bed at all.
The clock reads 6:47 AM. Too early for rational thought, too late to pretend last night didn't happen. The dinner. Vivian's leg pressed against mine. The way she looked at me when I texted her afterward, that mixture of fury and want that I've spent years trying to recreate with other women and failing every time.
I roll out of bed, pull on sweatpants, head toward the kitchen for coffee. That's when I see Elise. She's sitting at my dining table still wearing last night's blue gown, hair perfectly in place, makeup immaculate. Like she's been posed there all night, a beautiful statue waiting for me to notice she never came to bed.
"You're up early," I say, moving to the coffee maker.
"I never went to sleep." Her voice is calm, measured. No accusation. That's somehow worse.
