Chapter 5 She Fell In His Bathroom

Greyson disappeared into the bathroom, making it plain he had no intention of sparing Elena another glance.

Left alone in the silence, Elena pressed her fingers to her neck. She had genuinely thought he would strangle her at that moment.

She decided she would keep as far from him as possible.

Her feet carried her to the darkest corner, where she sat with heavy thoughts, mourning the collapse of her dreams of wealth.

When Greyson returned, his gaze shifted toward the door, surprised not to see her where she had stood.

For a moment, he assumed she had slipped away, but a few steps later, he spotted her pressed into the shadows.

Curled on the floor, Elena tapped out a message to Mina.

Mina was aware she would be spending the night with Greyson and had voiced her worries.

To reassure her, Elena angled her phone toward the floor, sending a quick snapshot and another message.

"Don't worry. I'm the one tempted to get into his bed-but only for a sound sleep."

A faint sound made Elena lift her head.

Greyson stood there in gray sleepwear, his collar parted enough to reveal the strong line of his neck and the rise of his Adam's apple, which oddly drew the eye.

His hair still glistened with moisture, and his careless posture gave him an air of a spoiled, distant prince-distractingly attractive.

Every feature on his face seemed carved with impossible precision, leaving no fault to be found.

Staring at him, Elena thought having such a handsome husband was a blessing for the eyes, if not for the heart.

"Maybe you should try to sleep soon," said Elena, choosing her words carefully out of concern for his health.

Without sparing her a glance, Greyson made his way to the bed, slipped under the covers, and switched off the light.

Elena stiffened where she sat.

The spacious bedroom swallowed her whole, making her feel like she didn't belong there at all. With the actual resident wanting nothing to do with her, she stayed hidden in her corner, trying to shrink away from notice.

The urge to keep sharing updates with Mina faded completely.

Thinking it through, she realized Greyson's actions weren't so odd.

Had their positions been reversed, she might have gone as far as calling the police.

Leaning against the wall, she was spared the chill, for the heater kept the air warm.

Her phone slipped from her hand, and a wave of unease washed over her at the thought of sharing a room with a stranger who was technically her husband.

The whirlwind of the past few days replayed in her head like fragments of a dream, drawing a faint, bittersweet curve to her lips.

With a weary sigh, Elena shut her eyes. She had chosen this marriage, and with that choice came the burden of enduring whatever it demanded.

...

A sudden chill roused Elena from uneasy rest.

Not once had Greyson offered her the bed, or even a blanket-any sign of comfort was completely missing.

He had shown nothing but indifference.

Already dressed and ready for the day, Greyson stood at a distance and said, "You'll find something to wear in the bathroom. Freshen up before anyone gets the wrong idea about us."

Elena rubbed at her nose before sneezing, wondering if he really cared about the gossip of others.

Pulling herself upright, she used the wall for support. Hours spent on the floor had left her legs heavy, her back stiff, and her neck throbbing.

Greyson's eyes followed her as she shuffled into the bathroom, and, just for a moment, a strange feeling flickered through him.

He never imagined she would remain on the floor the entire night.

Married to him, yet she insisted on keeping her distance. Sensible, but distant all the same.

His phone suddenly rang.

Casting a glance at the bathroom door, he accepted the call.

"Greyson, I fell." Elena's tearful voice came from the other end.

Greyson frowned. The moment he credited her with restraint, she found a way to trouble him.

"If you fell, then get up," he said coldly.

Stung by his lack of compassion, Elena let the tears slip down her cheeks.

If standing were possible, she would never have reached for the phone.

"I can't get up," she whimpered, her words trembling as if the phone itself could feel her pain.

Balancing on one leg while tugging at her jeans had ended badly. A sharp twist in her muscle sent her crashing down.

By luck alone, she managed to keep hold of her phone, or else she would have been forced to scream for help.

His indifference stung her, leaving her both hurt and resigned, though she knew she had little ground to fault him.

No sound came from his side of the call, yet Elena imagined his silence meant he thought she had brought this upon herself.

"Greyson..." she whispered again, desperate for any reply.

"Shit!"

He cursed, and the call abruptly ended.

When her hope began to wane, the bathroom door creaked open.

Greyson appeared in the doorway, his annoyance clear as he took in the scene-Elena sprawled awkwardly on the floor.

Her cheeks burned as she realized how she must have looked. Wearing only a black bra, with one leg stuck inside her jeans and the other exposed, she could hardly appear dignified.

Never had he witnessed such an undignified scene.

She wanted to disappear, but there was nowhere to hide.

There was no undoing it. She could only accept the moment for what it was.

His gaze, steady and unyielding, made her feel even smaller, and she shrank under it, flushed and flustered.

"I swear I can't stand up," Elena pleaded, pushing weakly against the floor. Agony lanced through her, and tears broke free, streaking her face.

Greyson's eyes darkened. Without another word, he bent low and swept her into his arms.

The moment his hands brushed against her skin, something tightened in his throat. Forcing the strange sensation down, he carried her out without meeting her eyes and placed her on the bed.

Grabbing the blanket without hesitation, Elena buried herself beneath it and muttered a faint "thank you."

Humiliation weighed heavier than the pain.

Of all places, why did it have to be here, in his bathroom, half-dressed?

The only solace was that she hadn't removed everything.

Biting her lip, she let silence cloak her, too humiliated to say another word.

Greyson pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

"Come to my parents' place... No, I'm not the patient..."

Greyson's eyes flicked toward Elena, who had wrapped herself in the blanket like a shield.

Thinking of her disheveled state in his bed left him scowling, irritation tightening his features.

This woman really knew how to cause trouble. A real nuisance.

When the silence stretched, Elena assumed he had summoned a doctor. Slowly, she peeled the blanket from her face and mumbled, "Can you hand me my clothes?"

Greyson stood still.

"Someone might walk in and see me like this," Elena whispered, biting her lip. "Technically, I'm your wife, and I'm lying in your bed..."

"Enough," Greyson said, his voice sharp as he disappeared into the bathroom. He came back with a folded set of women's loungewear and tossed it onto the bed.

Earlier, she'd noticed the massive closet in the bathroom, fully stocked-everything from fresh toiletries to soft robes and women's underwear, all neatly arranged.

Trying to change, Elena struggled with the pants, her body protesting with every movement.

Her waist ached, and her leg refused to cooperate. The simple task of putting on clothes became impossible.

Her eyes drifted toward Greyson.

His expression grew darker, but he understood what she was silently asking.

"I need your help," Elena admitted, her voice quiet, honesty outweighing pride.

It was the most humiliating request she had ever made.

"Or maybe just call the housekeeper," she added.

Finally, Greyson closed the distance, his hands far from gentle as he pulled the blanket away, leaving her completely exposed.