The CEO's Unspoken Love Novel

Chapter 17 Eleanor POV The two shots of bourbon hit me like a freight train. I'd barely finished swallowing the second one when the room began to tilt slightly, the edges of my vision growing fuzzy. The warmth spread from my throat to my chest, then radiated outward until my fingertips tingled. "Excuse me," I said, rising from my seat with as much dignity as I could muster. "I need to use the restroom." "Do you want me to come with you?" Olivia asked immediately, her eyes narrowed with concern. I shook my head, already calculating the quickest path to the door. "I'm fine.

I'll be right back." As I made my way across the room, I could feel the weight of several gazes on my back. Thomas looked concerned, Olivia suspicious, and Derek... I didn't dare look back to see his expression, but I could feel his eyes tracking my movement, clinical and assessing. The women's restroom was mercifully empty when I pushed through the door. The tasteful lighting and marble countertops reminded me this wasn't some dive bar but an exclusive establishment that would be frequented by Boston's elite. I gripped the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

My cheeks were flushed, eyes slightly glassy. The silver star pendant at my throat caught the light, a constant reminder of everything I could never quite have. I turned on the cold water and splashed some on my face, careful not to ruin my makeup. The shock of cold helped clear my head slightly. I cupped some water in my hands and rinsed my mouth, trying to wash away the burning aftertaste of bourbon. Looking back at my reflection, I saw a woman I barely recognized - poised, seemingly confident, yet harboring a deep well of resignation.

Had I really just refused to kiss Derek in front of everyone? The thought made me want to laugh and cry simultaneously. I'd spent years dreaming of his kiss, and when presented with an opportunity - albeit a humiliating one I'd chosen two shots of bourbon instead. - Movement in the mirror's reflection caught my attention, and I nearly screamed when Derek's tall figure appeared in the doorway behind He leaned against the frame, his expression unreadable in the soft lighting. "This is the women's restroom," I said, turning to face him.

"What are you-" A sudden wave of nausea hit me, and I pressed a hand to my mouth, swallowing hard. Ever since my sophomore year at Boston University, two drinks had been my absolute limit. The third always sent me spiraling toward sickness. I hadn't even finished the second shot before leaving the table, but the bourbon was strong, and I'd barely eaten all day. Derek didn't move from his position by the door. "Everyone thinks you're running away," he said, his voice deceptively casual. "They think you couldn't handle staying to play the game.

So they sent me to see if you were planning to come back or if you were fleeing the scene entirely." His smile was laced with mockery. "I seem to recall someone saying 'there's nothing to be afraid of earlier. Appears some people talk game but don't follow through." 1/3 I knew he was baiting me, but the alcohol in my system made it difficult to maintain my usual restraint. "The air was stuffy in there. Is it a crime to get some fresh air?" I shot back, gripping the counter for support. "And speaking of following through, was it necessary to follow me into the ladies' room?

What if someone sees you? What would they think?" My head was spinning, but a week's worth of frustration pushed me forward. I looked directly at him, changing my tone. "Why did you disappear for a week? No phone calls, no text messages, nothing. Why?" Derek's expression hardened, his eyes turning cold. "You're overstepping, Mrs. Wells," he said, emphasizing my title with obvious disdain. "I don't recall us being close enough for you to monitor my whereabouts. Do I need to be tied to your side at all times?" His words stung, but I was beyond caring.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," I said, my voice steady despite the churning in my stomach. "I was trying to say... maybe we shouldn't wait the two months. Let's just get divorced now. You clearly don't want to see me, and your mother keeps pushing me to finalize the divorce. It's like I'm the one holding you back." Derek's expression darkened further, but I caught a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "My mother contacted you again?" he muttered, following it with what sounded like a curse under his breath. I shrugged, aiming for nonchalance despite the ache in my chest.

"It doesn't matter. We were going to divorce anyway. So, what do you think? Should we go tomorrow? Or how do you want to handle it?" "Eleanor," Derek's voice dropped dangerously, anger evident in every syllable. "Our affairs are not for you to dictate. I don't need you telling me what to do or when to do it." I stared at him, momentarily speechless. After all this time, after his absence and indifference, he still had the audacity to act as though I were inconveniencing him. "Fine," I said finally, the alcohol making me bolder than usual. "I'll wait.

But the next time your mother calls to pressure me about the divorce, I'm telling her it's you who doesn't want to move forward. Don't put this on me." Derek's jaw tightened, though his voice softened slightly. "My mother has always been overly involved in matters that don't concern her." I attempted to move past him toward the door, but the sudden movement sent the room spinning. I stumbled, losing my balance, and pitched forward. Derek's arms shot out, catching me before I could fall. My hands landed against his chest, feeling the solid warmth beneath his shirt.

I looked up, suddenly aware of how close we were, his face mere inches from mine. The air between us seemed to crackle with tension. I tried to step back, embarrassed by my clumsiness, but Derek's hands remained firmly on my waist, holding me in place. My heart raced, and I couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or his proximity. "Why did you refuse the dare?" he asked quietly, his eyes searching mine. I tried to sound casual despite our position. "I didn't want to take advantage of you." The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile.

"You were scared." 2/3 "Are you kidding me?" I countered, unable to hide my incredulity. "What was there to be scared of? I was being considerate. I didn't want to force myself on you in front of everyone. Besides, wouldn't you have been disgusted if I had actually done it?" Derek's voice dropped to a near whisper, his breath warm against my face. "Admit it. You were afraid." I wanted to roll my eyes at his arrogance, but before I could respond, Derek lowered his head and pressed his lips against mine...

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