My CEO husband is a player and he thinks I am not his type

Episode 5: The Morning After

I woke up to sunlight and silence.

The bed next to me was empty. Cold.

Like Tyson had never been there at all.

Like I dreamed the whole thing.

But my hand remembered.

The way his fingers laced through mine in the dark.

The way he whispered my name.

The way the pillows between us ended up on the floor.

I sat up fast, cheeks burning.

No. We didn’t. We couldn’t have.

Right?

I didn’t know.

My stomach twisted. Regret? Hope? Fear?

“Will you regret this when you wake up?”

He had nodded.

But he was gone now.

I got dressed quickly. Plain dress. Hair up. No makeup.

If I acted normal, maybe it didn’t happen.

Downstairs, breakfast was already set.

His mom smiled at me. “Good morning, Freedom. Sleep well?”

“Y-yes,” I lied. “Very well.”

Lucas was there too.

He looked up when I walked in and his face lit up. “Morning! You look... different today.”

Different.

Did he know? Could he tell?

“Do I?” I sat down, pouring tea with shaking hands. “Just tired.”

The front door opened.

Tyson.

He walked in like nothing happened.

Suit on. Hair perfect. Face blank.

Cold. The same Tyson from yesterday morning.

He didn’t look at me.

Not once.

“Morning,” he said to his mom. To Lucas. To everyone but me.

He took a seat at the head of the table. Far from me.

The silence was loud.

Lucas frowned. “You okay, bro? You look like you didn’t sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Tyson said. Cutting his steak. “Busy day.”

“Busy ignoring people,” Lucas muttered under his breath. Only I heard.

My face went hot.

Tyson’s fork paused for half a second. Then he kept eating.

His mom tried to fill the air. “Freedom, Lucas was saying we should all go to the gallery today. You should come.”

“I have things to do,” I said quickly. “House stuff.”

“Nonsense,” she said. “The maids can handle it. Come. It’ll be good for you.”

Tyson finally looked up.

Straight at me.

His eyes were unreadable. Dark. Tired.

For one second I thought he’d say something.

Acknowledge last night. Acknowledge me.

“Do what you want,” he said instead. Then he stood. “I’m leaving.”

And just like that, he was gone.

The gallery was beautiful.

But I couldn’t focus.

Lucas kept talking to me, showing me paintings, making me laugh.

It felt nice. Normal.

Until I felt eyes on me.

I turned.

Tyson.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

He was standing across the room, in a suit, talking to a client.

But his eyes weren’t on the client.

They were on me. On me and Lucas.

And they were furious.

Lucas noticed me stiffen. “What?”

“Nothing,” I whispered.

Tyson didn’t come over.

He didn’t cause a scene.

He just watched. For 10 minutes.

Then he turned and walked out.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

Unknown number.

Tyson: My bedroom. 9pm. We need to talk.

My heart dropped.

Talk.

About last night?

About us?

I looked at Lucas, laughing at something on his phone.

Kind. Safe.

Then I looked at the door Tyson left through.

Cold. Complicated. My husband.

One year.

I still had one year.

But after last night, nothing felt simple anymore.

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