Chapter 187

• In the soft haze of morning light, Howard stirred awake, golden rays spilling across his face like an unwelcome intruder. His eyelids fluttered open, heavy with the fog of a restless night, and for a fleeting moment, he lay there disoriented, the world around him a blur of half-formed shadows.
• Fragments of the previous night clawed at the edges of his mind—Charlotte's face twisted in some emotion he couldn't quite grasp, her voice a distant echo amid the haze of alcohol and accident. He blinked hard, sitting up slowly, his body aching as if protesting the night's excesses. What did I do? The question gnawed at him, a vague guilt settling in his chest like lead. He glanced down at himself, shirt rumpled and askew, the faint scent of her perfume lingering on his skin—a reminder that stirred both desire and unease. Charlotte was nowhere in sight; the room felt emptier without her presence, the bed beside her cool and undisturbed. He sighed deeply, a low rumble of frustration escaping his lips, and squeezed his eyes shut against the rising tide of regret.
• Pushing himself upright, Howard's gaze landed on the bedside clock—8:17 a.m. Damn it, late again. The office awaited, a relentless demand he couldn't ignore, no matter how his head throbbed. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, rubbed his temples, and strode into the bathroom.