Chapter 96 Chapter 96

Chapter 96 Chapter 96


“What do you mean by that wasn’t all, Ace?” I asked, trying to force a smile, but it only made him grin wider. 

I shoved him a little with his shoulder. 

“Come on, tell me,” I said. “What happened? What do you remember, Ace?” 

Still, no answer. Just his boyish grin was plastered all over his face. But that didn’t stop me from asking. I asked and asked and asked again. 

“What do you mean that wasn’t all?” I asked again for maybe the tenth time. 

Ace only laughed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his wrist. He looked exhausted, like he was hanging onto consciousness by a thread, yet somehow still mischievous, which was still himself. His laughter came out hoarse and tired, but undeniably amused. 

“Sabrina,” he groaned, dragging my name out like it was part complaint, part joke. “I swear, you women never give up, do you?” 

I folded my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. 

“Ace. Tell me.” 

He kept laughing, but softly at first, then louder. Until he leaned forward slightly, one arm braced on his knee, shaking with amusement. I didn’t see what was so funny, but that only made me more irritated and more curious. 

“Ace!” I hissed. 

He finally looked at me, still grinning, still with that playful glint that made me feel like he had a secret he was determined to take to the grave just to annoy me. 

“We had fun,” he said simply. 

“Fun?” I repeated. “That’s not an answer.” 

“It’s the only one you’re getting,” he shot back, nudging my shoulder with the side of his arm. “Come on. Don't act innocent. You know exactly what we did.” 

I shook my head. “I don’t. I really don’t remember anything after we got home. The restaurant, the car ride, the… kissing,” I muttered, face heating up. “Yes, that part I remember. But everything after is a blur.” 

He raised a brow skeptically. “Nahh... Sabrina, you’re lying.” 

“I’m not.” 

He stared at me for a long moment, like he was trying to see through my skull to check if my memories were hiding behind the headache. Then slowly, and dramatically, he gasped. 

“You really don’t remember?” he whispered, eyes widening more for effect than shock. 

“I. Don’t,” I said, every word separately for emphasis. 

Ace burst out laughing again. Full-bodied, dramatic, and ridiculous. “Oh, that makes this even better,” he said, slapping his palm lightly against the bench. “God, last night was something else.” 

My irritation flared hotter. “Ace, I swear—” 

“Relax,” he said, holding his hands up defensively, though the grin never left his face. “We had the best fun ever, that’s all I’m saying. Best night I’ve ever had with you and the best bonding moment I’ve ever had with my dad. That’s all I’m giving you.” 

“That tells me nothing!” 

He shoved me lightly again. “Stop pretending. You remember something. You have to.” 

“I don’t!” 

“You’re a terrible liar,” he sing-songed, rising from the bench with a stretch. “Come on. Let’s go inside before you fry under the sun.” 

I wanted to smack him. Truly. But my headache wouldn’t allow that level of energy. 

So, I sighed and followed. 

We walked side by side toward the house. Each step we took made me think harder, as if by walking I could force myself to remember more. 

Had something happened? Obviously, something had happened. But what? 

And then a new worry bubbled up: What if Scott remembered everything? What if he woke up horrified? What if he regretted it? What if this ruined everything? 

But Ace seemed unbothered, annoyingly relaxed, even. And that almost soothed me… almost. 

When we stepped inside, soft footsteps echoed from the stairs. 

Scott appeared with his hair messy, eyes half-closed, wearing sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a T-shirt that looked like it had been thrown on without a single thought. He was yawning, groaning dramatically as he walked down. 

“Ugh… I’m not going to the office for at least three days,” he muttered loudly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nope. Cancel everything. Fire everyone if they complain.” 

I smiled despite the ache in my head. Ace rolled his eyes. 

Scott finally noticed us. 

“Oh… hey,” he said, blinking at us as he had just realized the world existed again. “Good morning, you two.” 

“Morning,” Ace mumbled. 

“Good morning,” I said gently. 

Scott nodded and walked past us into the dining room, voice raised again. “I need someone to tell me that breakfast is ready yet?” 

One of the kitchen staff rushed out. “Almost, Sir.” 

Scott clapped his hands once and turned back toward Ace and me. “Come eat with me.” 

I opened my mouth, but Ace beat me to it. 

“I’m good,” he said with surprising politeness. “Still tired. I’ll eat later.” 

Scott stared at him for a beat but then shrugged. “Suit yourself.” 

Ace gave me a small wave and trudged upstairs like a dying old man, while I headed into the dining room with Scott. 

I took the chair beside him, settling slowly because every movement made my headache pulse. Scott leaned back in his chair, stretching again until his joints popped. 

Then, just as I reached for my glass of water— 

Scott chuckled. 

Not a soft laugh. A real one. The kind that sent a chill down my spine. 

“What?” I asked, trying to sound casual. 

He shook his head, another laugh slipping out. “I just… had the funniest dream last night.” 

I froze. Like literally froze. My breath hitched. My fingers tightened against the glass. My heartbeat thudded hard enough to worsen my headache. 

Oh God. 

A dream? 

A funny dream? 

That could only mean... that could only mean— 

He remembered. He remembered something. Maybe he remembered everything. 

My stomach dropped, and every memory I was missing suddenly mattered more than anything else in the world, but all I could do was stare at him wide-eyed, frozen, and bracing myself for whatever he said next. 

“What funny dream?” I asked with a trembling voice.