The CEO's Unspoken Love Novel

Chapter 25 Eleanor POV The brisk morning air cleared my head somewhat as I walked quickly toward Newbury Street. The sidewalks were already bustling with commuters and early shoppers, the city awakening to another day. By the time I reached Four Seasons Florals, I was only one minute late -a small victory. "Morning, Eleanor," called Rachel, the early shift florist, already busy conditioning a new shipment of roses. "The delivery from Holland just arrived. Those peonies you ordered are gorgeous." "Good morning," I replied, hanging up my coat and immediately immersing myself in work.

The familiar routine of checking inventory, arranging flowers, and reviewing the day's orders provided a welcome distraction from the chaotic thoughts swirling in my mind. As I arranged a bouquet of calla lilies, my mind kept replaying the morning's mortifying encounter. Derek's casual attitude about finding me sprawled across him, that knowing smirk when I accidentally touched him-it was all so unlike him. The Derek I knew would have been cold, perhaps even angry at the invasion of his personal space.

He certainly wouldn't have joked about it or admitted he "didn't mind." During our marriage, especially those first six months before he left for London, physical contact between us had been rare and usually initiated by me. He had never shown this playful, teasing side. It was almost as if I was dealing with a different person. Maybe it was just the lingering effects of alcohol, or perhaps being back in Boston had somehow changed him. Whatever the reason, I couldn't afford to read too much into it. After all, our marriage had always had an expiration date. Around ten, my phone rang.

Olivia's name flashed on the screen, and I briefly considered ignoring it. But she would only call back, probably with increasing concern each time. "Hello?" "You're alive!" Olivia's voice was unnecessarily loud in my tender ear. "So, how was your night with Mr. Iceberg? Did he defrost a little after carrying you out like some romance novel hero?" I moved to the back office for privacy. "He just... took me home." "And?" Olivia pressed. "You're being suspiciously vague, which means something happened.

Spill it, El." "Nothing happened," I insisted, though my burning cheeks contradicted my words. "He brought me home, I went to sleep, end of story." "Hmm." I could practically hear her disbelief. "Then why do you sound like you're giving testimony under oath? Come on, what aren't you telling me?" I sighed, leaning against the wall. "This morning was... awkward. I woke up on top of him, and he said I said things last night, Embarrassing things." 1/3 Chapter 25 What kind of things?" "I don't know! I don't remember, and he wouldn't tell me exactly. He just implied I was...

forward." Olivia's laugh crackled through the phone. "Oh my God, this is amazing. Maybe drunk you finally had the courage to tell him how you really feel." "Olivia!" I hissed. "That's not funny. I've spent years carefully hiding those feelings. I refuse to believe I threw away all that dignity because of a few shots of bourbon." "Maybe that's exactly what you needed," she replied, her tone softening. "El, you've been bottling everything up for so long. Perhaps deep down, you wanted him to know." I closed my eyes, the possibility too terrifying to contemplate. "It doesn't matter.

He probably thinks I was just drunk and horny. Nothing to do with actual feelings." "And how did he react to drunk, horny Eleanor?" I recalled the way Derek had looked at me this morning, that mixture of amusement and something else I couldn't quite name. "Like it was all a big joke." "Men," Olivia sighed. "Speaking of last night, I made sure Derek put you in his car safely before I left. Unlike you, my tolerance for alcohol is actually functional." "Of course you remember everything," I groaned. "I forgot you can drink most men under the table." "Years of practice," she said cheerfully.

"Thomas actually offered to share a cab, but I declined. For a friend of your husband's, he wasn't terrible company." After promising to call her later with any remembered details, I hung up and returned to the shop floor, throwing myself into work with renewed determination. The day passed in a blur of consultations, arrangements, and deliveries. By closing time, my hangover had subsided to a dull headache, and I was looking forward to a quiet evening at home with Sunny and perhaps a good book. As I locked the shop door, I noticed Derek's sleek black car parked across the street.

My stomach did an unwelcome flip. The driver's window rolled down, revealing Michael, Derek's longtime chauffeur. "Good evening, Mrs. Wells," he called. "Mr. Wells asked me to pick you up. The Stones are hosting a welcome party for their new baby. I'm to take you straight there." I hesitated, fatigue washing over me. The thought of smiling politely through another social event where I would play the role of Derek's devoted wife seemed unbearable tonight. "I'm sorry, Michael, but I'm not feeling well. Please tell Derek I've gone home." 2/3 Chapter 25 Michael looked uncomfortable. "Mr.

Wells was quite insistent, Mrs. Wells. He said to tell you the Stones specifically requested your presence. "I appreciate that, but I really can't tonight. Please take me to Beacon Hill instead." After a moment's hesitation, Michael nodded, and I slid into the back seat, grateful for his discretion. The car moved smoothly through evening traffic, and I leaned back, closing my eyes. I knew there would be consequences for defying Derek's social plans, but tonight, I couldn't summon the energy to care. When we arrived home, I thanked Michael and went inside.

The house was quiet, though I knew Mrs. Hughes was somewhere around, likely preparing for dinner. I took my time washing my hands and changing into comfortable clothes before heading to my small greenhouse room at the back of the apartment. This space, filled with my personal collection of rare plants, was my sanctuary. I was carefully repotting a temperamental orchid when Mrs. Hughes knocked on the door. "Mrs. Wells? Mr. Wells has returned and is requesting your presence immediately in the living room." My hands stilled on the delicate roots. "Did he say why?" "No, ma'am.

But he seemed..." she hesitated, choosing her words carefully, "rather determined." I wiped my hands on a towel, resignation settling over me like a heavy cloak. "Thank you, Mrs. Hughes. Please tell him I'll be right there." Comments 3 Write Comments < SHARE 3/3 Ruby Walker Ruby Walker is a rising voice in the world of romance and spicy fiction. With a gift for weaving deep emotions, sizzling chemistry, and unexpected twists, her stories are a blend of passion and drama that captivate readers from start to finish.

Ruby's writing style is bold and irresistible-perfect for those who crave intense, addictive love stories.