Claire's POV
"Are you sober now?" I asked as Evander stepped out of the bathroom, a towel draped loosely around his neck and wearing a robe that made him look sexier just as I remembered him from the past.
"Yeah," he replied softly, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head bowed as he avoided my gaze.
I crossed my arms, trying to keep my voice steady. "Why weren't you answering your phone? Where is everyone? Where is Eliam? And why was the house so dark? What is going on here, Evander?"
I hadn't come to bombard him with questions, but seeing him like this—so lost and lifeless—it scared me. My heart ached in a way I couldn't describe.
I had heard from Damian about how Evander used to drown himself in alcohol after work, retreating into his darkness. But seeing it with my own eyes... it made me feel guilty. If only I could go back in time, I would punch my past self for ever doubting him. I should have believed in him and trusted him no matter what.
