My Billionaire Ex Beg For A Second Chance-Chapter 35: A Hangover and Her Name
Leonard groaned, the sharp stab of a headache splitting through his skull the moment his eyes cracked open to the muted light filtering through the bedroom curtains. He rolled over, burying his face into the cold side of the pillow, his bare back drenched lightly in sweat. The scent of scotch still lingered on his breath and the faint taste clung bitterly to his tongue.
"Damn it," he muttered, dragging a hand through his messy dark hair.
The events from last night floated to the surface in fractured, frustrating clarity. He saw her again—Katherine. After all these years, just like that, she was standing only feet away. And she wasn’t alone. That man—Felix, wasn’t it? He stood beside her, close. Too close. Leonard clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing at the ceiling.
He sat up slowly, the cool air brushing over his bare chest. His toned torso flexed slightly as he swung his legs off the bed and stood, cracking his neck before heading toward the kitchen. The floor was cold against his feet, and the world tilted slightly under the weight of his hangover.
"I need water," he grunted.
He grabbed a glass and filled it from the fridge’s water dispenser, gulping half of it down before realizing it wasn’t enough. His stomach churned from the booze still burning inside him. He needed something better—something to reset him.
Lemon juice. Salt. Water. A cure he’d picked up during one of his business trips in the south of Italy. He opened the fridge again, grabbing a lemon and slicing it in half, the citrusy scent filling the space. As he squeezed the juice into a glass, his phone buzzed on the marble kitchen counter.
Without looking, he tapped the screen and switched it to speaker.
"Yeah?" he said, his voice rough with sleep.
"Glad you picked up. Still in one piece?" Marco’s voice rang out, bright and too awake for Leonard’s liking.
Leonard poured a dash of salt into the lemon juice and gave it a stir with a spoon. "Of course. What the hell do you think happened to me?"
"Well," Marco said, dragging the word out playfully, "you kinda bolted from the party like you saw a ghost. Alisha thought you were gonna throw up in the bushes."
Leonard scoffed. "I didn’t throw up. I just didn’t feel like sticking around."
Marco was quiet for a second. "So, something happened?"
Leonard didn’t answer right away. He leaned on the counter, staring at the glass of lemon juice in his hand. The cold from the marble seeped into his arms, grounding him.
"It doesn’t matter," he finally said, bringing the glass to his lips.
"Bullshit," Marco replied with a laugh. "You looked like you saw some ghost or demon. Alisha was about to go after you, but I told her to let you be. You okay, man?"
Leonard closed his eyes for a moment, the lemon tang stinging his throat in the best way possible. It helped, a little.
"I’m fine. Thanks for checking," he said. "I just wanted to get home early."
Marco chuckled. "Yeah, home early just to drink half your liquor cabinet."
Leonard’s jaw tightened, though his face remained neutral with Marco’s laugh echoed in his ears. Marco always knew too much.
"I didn’t drink that much."
"Mhm, sure. Look, parties aren’t your thing anymore, I get it. But you stayed longer than five minutes this time. That’s progress."
"Don’t get used to it," Leonard muttered.
"I won’t. But maybe you should. Life moves on, you know?" Marco said, his tone turning gentler.
Leonard didn’t reply. They both knew what he was thinking. Some wounds don’t close even with time.
After a few seconds of silence, Marco added, "Alright, I gotta run. Glad you’re not dead. Catch you later."
"Later," Leonard said, ending the call.
He stared at the blank screen of his phone for a moment, then set it down. Silence settled in the kitchen like a heavy fog. He paced slowly, juice in hand, mind churning. Seeing Katherine again wasn’t something he had prepared for. He thought the image of her would eventually fade into something less vivid.
It hadn’t.
Her voice still echoed in his ears, soft, familiar. Her smile—slightly awkward, yet painfully beautiful. The way she looked at Felix made something sour twist in his gut. What was that man to her? What had happened all these years while he stayed away?
He walked to the large windows, the city skyline in front of him a blur behind the reflection of his haunted face. His thumb traced the edge of the glass.
"You look happy," he muttered under his breath, imagining Katherine beside that man. It shouldn’t have bothered him. She had every right to move on. Hell, she should have moved on.
But it did bother him.
More than he wanted to admit.
He finished his drink and set the empty glass in the sink with a sharp clink. Then he walked back toward the counter and picked up his phone again. He unlocked it, his fingers hesitating just a moment before swiping through his contacts.
He stopped at one name. It wasn’t Katherine’s, of course. He didn’t have her number anymore—deleted in a moment of false strength, then regretted more times than he could count. But this... this was the next best thing.
Leonard stared at the name glowing on the screen, his thumb hovering just long enough to hesitate, to question himself—but not enough to stop.
He tapped the screen and raised the phone to his ear. The soft buzz of the dial tone filled the quiet room, and his reflection stared back at him from the window’s glass, warped and tired.
He knew what he needed to do.
The line clicked. A pause, then a voice—low, familiar, with the faintest rasp.
"Hello, Mr. Ford."
Leonard didn’t return the greeting. He didn’t ask how they’d been or pretend this was a courtesy call. There were no pleasantries between them, only understanding.
"I have a job for you."
