Athena glanced over just once before quietly lying down on the bed, falling asleep almost instantly.
Tonight, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, Tyler just couldn’t get into the mood. Maybe he was in a bad place emotionally, maybe it was something else. The woman he’d picked up was clean, pretty, clearly new to this whole scene—she’d followed him up here for the promise of a minor role.
Back in the day, Tyler would have taken his time, kept things going until sunrise.
But now, for some reason, his gaze kept drifting toward Athena. Once he was sure she was actually asleep, any spark of excitement he had fizzled out. It felt like he’d put on a show he’d spent hours preparing, only to find the audience seats completely empty. What was the point?
He wrapped things up quickly, introduced the woman to the director as promised, and stepped aside to light a cigarette.
He’d figured Athena was just pretending to sleep. But after he’d finished half his cigarette, he walked back to the bed and saw she really was out cold.
He clenched his jaw, a sudden surge of irritation rising in his chest. Why was he the only one losing sleep? Why did she get to rest so easily?
He couldn’t stand it. Why should she sleep when he couldn’t?
“Athena! Get up!” he barked, shaking her awake.
Athena blinked herself out of the fog of sleep, her eyes slowly focusing. “What do you want?”
Her simple question threw Tyler off. What did he want?
He’d just slept with another woman right here in this room. Shouldn’t Athena be disgusted? Wasn’t she supposed to scream at him, curse him out, demand to know if she was really the one he loved? That’s how other women always reacted. But come to think of it, Athena had never been jealous, not even after stumbling upon scenes like this more than once. She always remained calm, almost detached.
Why? Didn’t she care about him?
A strange, uneasy panic twisted inside him. He couldn’t figure out why he felt this way. Or maybe he could—maybe he was desperate to know, to see if she really cared.
He stubbed out his cigarette, trying to act casual. “My stomach hurts. I want something home-cooked—by you. There’s a twenty-four-hour grocery just downstairs. Go buy something and make me dinner.”
He expected her to refuse, but instead, Athena was already getting dressed before he’d even finished speaking.
Relief washed over Tyler. She still cared. She was still his—always ready to serve him, no matter how badly he treated her.
“What do you want to eat?” she asked, face calm as she zipped up her jacket.
The suite had a kitchen; she could easily cook there.
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