Page 69 of The Hotel Room

But no matter how angry he was, how deep the self-hatred ran, he couldn’t undo it. All he could do now was sit in the mess he’d made and try to claw his way back to the man he should have been all along.

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James lay on his side in the master bedroom, the room that used to feel like a sanctuary. His body was heavy against the mattress, muscles aching in that way they did when guilt weighed more than exhaustion ever could.

The empty space beside him—her space—was a void he couldn’t stop noticing, no matter how tightly he clenched his eyes shut.

He’d ruined everything.

The truth clawed at his chest, relentless.

He could still see the look on her face—stunned, hollow, like the ground had crumbled beneath her feet. Her eyes, once so full of warmth for him, shattered with a pain so raw it haunted him.

He had been the one to break her.

His fault. All of it.

His fists curled in the sheets, the self-loathing coiling tighter, harder. How could he have done this to her? Tothem?

She had given himeverything—her body, her trust, her love, for nearly two decades. And he had destroyed that. For nothing.

That stranger had been nothing but physical friction, a rush of sensation. His body had responded, sure—flesh reacting to flesh—but his heart had known, even as he pushed deeper, faster, that this wasn’tKate. Not the woman he’d built a life with, not the soul he’d intertwined with for more than half his life.

His breath hitched, throat tight as he stared at the dark ceiling, wishing he could scrub the memory from his mind—the betrayal, the pain he’d caused.

But instead, all he could feel was the ache of her absence. The ache of missingher.

Not just the sex, though God knew he missed the way her body fit against his.

It was the other things.

The way she used to tangle her legs with his in the middle of the night. The way she would whisper half-asleep murmurs when he kissed the back of her neck, pressing closer for warmth.

The way shetrustedhim enough to let him hold her when she was vulnerable.

And now?

She wouldn’t even sleep in the same room.

The pain was unbearable.

The door opened.

James tensed, blinking through the darkness, his heart hammering as the faint sliver of hallway light spilled across the floor.

Kate.

He would have known her silhouette anywhere.

She lingered for a moment, just standing there.

And then—without a word—she shut the door, crossed the room and slid carefully under the covers.

Her back to him.

Facing the edge of the bed.

James barely breathed.

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