Chapter 87 Back to England

Chapter 87 Back to England
Steven’s POV

Her silence was louder than any answer she could have given.

I replayed that moment over and over again in my head. The pause. The hesitation. The way her eyes drifted away when I asked her the simplest question.

Do you love Ashton?

She did not say yes. But she did not say no either.

And for someone like me, that silence was confirmation enough.

I sat at the bar with a glass of whiskey in front of me, my fingers wrapped tightly around it as if it were the only thing keeping me grounded. The bartender glanced at me briefly before refilling my glass without asking. That alone told me how many rounds I had already downed.

“You sure you are good, sir” he asked cautiously.

“I am fine” I replied, lifting the glass to my lips again.

The burn did nothing to numb the thoughts. Kayla’s face kept flashing in my mind. The way she frowned when she was thinking too hard. The way she folded her arms when she was defensive. The way I’ve seen her look at Ashton without even realizing she was doing it.

I laughed bitterly under my breath.

If only Ashton was not in the picture. Everything could have been different.

“Another” I muttered, sliding the empty glass forward.

The bartender hesitated. “Maybe some water”

“Another drink” I said firmly.

He obliged.

I leaned back on the stool, staring at the shelves of liquor behind the counter. I had built my life on structure and discipline. I never let distractions take control of me. Yet here I was, undone by a woman who could not even give me clarity.

I loved her. That much was undeniable.

But loving someone who loved another man was a losing battle.

When I finally left the bar, the night air hit me hard. I walked to my car with unsteady steps, my thoughts heavy, my chest tight. I drove to the hotel in silence, the city lights blurring past me.

Sleep did not come easily that night.

Or the nights that followed.

For days, Kayla occupied every quiet moment of my mind. At work. At home. Even during meetings, her voice echoed in my head. I kept expecting my phone to light up with her name. It never did. I guess she’s too busy with Ashton to remember I still exist.

Distance was the only solution I could think of.

On the fourth day, I made a decision.

I was leaving.

I would return back to England to clear my head. My home would always be my place of retreat. Far away from love problems.

I packed lightly and boarded the plane without telling anyone more than necessary. When I landed, the cool air felt different. Calmer. Less suffocating.

Or so I hoped.

At the office in London, things were as orderly as ever. Familiar faces greeted me with polite smiles. Work resumed as though nothing had changed.

Late in the afternoon, as I was reviewing reports in my office, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in” I said.

She stepped in with a small smile, her blonde hair tied neatly behind her head. Amelia Carter. She had worked with my company for years. Intelligent. Elegant. And at some point in the past, I had entertained a harmless crush on her.

“Welcome back” she said. “I heard you were back in town”

“For a while” I replied.

She lingered by the door. “Would you like to grab a drink later. Just to catch up”

I hesitated, then nodded. “Sure”

We met at a quiet bar not far from the office. The atmosphere was relaxed. Low music and dim lights.

“You look tired” Amelia observed as we sat down.

“Work” I replied automatically.

She smiled knowingly. “Of course it is”

We ordered drinks and made small talk. About work. About London. About trivial things. Eventually, she leaned closer.

“You know you have never been good at hiding things, Steven”

I chuckled. “I hide things perfectly well”

“Not from me” she said softly. “Something is wrong”

I took a slow sip of my drink. “Just pressure”

“You sure the pressure is from work?” she asked, staring suspiciously at me.

“Yes” I lied, almost rolling my eyes.

She studied my face for a moment, then nodded. “Well, if you ever want to talk”

The silence stretched between us. The music hummed softly in the background.

Amelia reached out, brushing her fingers against my hand. “You do not have to be alone.”

I looked at her. She was beautiful. Kind and sweet.

She leaned in slowly, giving me enough time to pull away before our lips could collide.

“Not today” I said quietly.

She froze, then smiled politely and leaned back. “I…I understand”

Just then, my phone vibrated on the table.

Kayla.

The name glowed on the screen like an accusation.

I stared at it. My chest tightened. My thumb hovered over the screen.

After what seemed like forever, she finally remembered I still existed and decided to call.

I let it ring without bothering to answer.

When it stopped, I flipped the phone face down. “Sorry about that.”

“No need, ” Amelia replied gently.

The next few days passed in a blur of meetings and paperwork. There was a small interior design project coming up. A promising one. As I reviewed the preliminary plans, a familiar thought crossed my mind.

Kayla would be perfect for this.

The idea lingered for a few seconds before I shut it down.

Bad idea.

She was probably with Ashton anyway. Why should I care?

During the board meeting, the design team presented their concepts. I listened attentively, asking questions, making notes.

Suddenly, the doors to the conference room swung open.

My assistant rushed in. He is a young man in his early twenties. He looks nervous and breathless.

“Sir” he said urgently.

I frowned. “This better be important”

“There are some men in the lobby,” he said. “They say they are FBI and they need to speak with you”

The room went silent.

I straightened slowly, my mind almost racing.

“What is going on?” I asked quietly as I turned around.

My assistant swallowed. “They insist it is urgent”

At the far end of the glass walls, I could already see them coming towards me in dark suits and piercing eyes.

When they got to me, one of them looked directly at me and nodded slightly.

“We need to have a word, Mr Wade” he said without blinking and I gulped down nothing.