Dear Ex Wife, Please take me back novel Chapter 88

ALEX

“Pour me a drink,” I demand the moment I walk into the room and throw myself on Ian's office couch.

Iann looks at me like I’ve grown a second head.

“Hello to you too,” he mutters, rolling his eyes halfway.

Iann and I have been best friends for five years now. Met at some dull conference and clicked, rare for me. But I guess Luca will just have to suck it up.

He’s a petty bastard that's for sure.

When Ethan threatened to expose my illness over his damn cousin, I was furious at Iann. Thought he’d sold me out. But then I realized... he hadn’t taken sides.

He stayed neutral because, as he put it, “I take my career very seriously.”

He didn’t betray me. Which left one question:

Who the hell did?

It couldn’t have been Leah. If anything, that secret is the only thing keeping me tethered to her. Why burn her leverage?

“You're a shitty host.” I mutter.

“I'm not hosting anything. Besides, this is a hospital office and not a pub. Also, you're supposed to stay away from alcohol!”

“It’s not for me,” I say. “It’s for my tired body. Help it out.”

Iann lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head as he walks over to the corner cabinet.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Frequently told,” I mutter, kicking off my shoes and letting my head fall back against the couch. The room spins slightly. Or maybe that’s just my brain short-circuiting again.

A few seconds later, I hear the soft clink of glass. I lift my head just enough to see him setting down a bottle of whiskey and a tumbler in front of me.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just watches me.

Waiting.

I ignore the look, pop the cap off the bottle, and pour myself a generous amount. The liquid catches the light, smooth and golden.

I down it in one go.

It burns.

Good.

“Want to tell me what’s got you spiraling this time?” he asks casually, leaning against his desk like he’s got all the time in the world.

I just shake my head, pouring another glass.

He raises a brow. “Is it the engagement? Or the kid? Or maybe... that woman.”

The glass pauses mid-air.

And that’s answer enough.

“Thought so,” Iann mutters, almost to himself. “Should’ve known.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” I say defensively.

“Why are you drinking” he mocks me with air quotes, “For the body then?”

I don’t respond.

I just drown the second glass, too.

Then the third.

The silence stretches between us like an old scar.

The thing is, there are words. A thousand of them. All crammed in my chest, clawing to be let out.

But I swallow them down with another glass instead.

I finally drag myself up from the couch, wiping a hand across my face.

Iann straightens. “I’m driving you home.”

“No,” I say, grabbing my coat. “Ryan’s outside.”

His expression softens just slightly. “You brought him with you?”

Violent.

I lean against the wall, arms crossed, watching the numbers tick down slowly above the doors.

“Knowing you’d faint when the lights go out,” I say, breaking the silence with a bite in my tone, “I didn’t think you’d ever step foot in an elevator again.”

She glares at me, her jaw tightening. “And knowing you can’t hold your liquor, I didn’t expect you to drink in a public place and spew nonsense.”

I smirk, turning slightly to face her. “This isn’t public. It’s Iann’s office. And I spew brilliance, not nonsense.”

She scoffs. “Is that what you call it now? Brilliance? It sounded more like whining to me.”

“Funny,” I say coolly, “from someone who cried because the lights flickered.”

“I had a panic attack, you insufferable ass,” she snaps, then instantly looks away, as if annoyed, she even gave me that much.

It was a stupid thing to say, but I know Athena, she's probably ashamed and about to sink below the steel. She hates pity, so I've given her the opposite so she won't have to dwell much on feeling ashamed about what happened.

“You still dating that soft-spoken, weak-chinned guy who wears boat shoes to dinner?”

Her gaze snaps to me, fire in those eyes.

“Are you still pretending to be father of the year while drinking yourself into oblivion?”

She crosses her arms, breathing uneven.

Silence settles again. Not violent this time.

Just… heavy.

A weight neither of us is ready to carry.

The elevator dings again.

Ground floor.

She steps out first, not sparing me a glance.

And I follow, wondering who is waiting to take her home and why it bothers me so damn much.