Clark's POV

"Then that's all for now. Talk soon." I end the virtual meeting with Ava and lean back in my chair, rubbing my throbbing temples.

The fallout from the SkyeTech scandal has been a PR nightmare. With Ava having receipts of their crime and threatening to sue them to hell, they were quick to want to settle. Still, the day must go on.

I'm about to pull up my calendar to see what other meetings I have for today when the door to my office suddenly bursts open. Only one person has the audacity.

"Clark!" My grandfather storms in, and immediately the scent of his old cologne fills the room like an unwelcome cloud. "I know you've been avoiding me on purpose."

I sigh. "Can we please do this later? I'm very busy."

"Yeah, so is every other person in this building. What's the latest with Ava?" he asks, impatient. "You can't hide from me forever, Clark. I'm literally on the board."

"I don't need a reminder."

"Can you just answer my question?"

"I'm sorry, but have you forgotten about the scandal with SkyeTech?" My voice is strained, fatigue clawing at my edges. "Ava and I are still doing damage control."

"And how much longer is that going to take? Because at this rate, Project Terra will never launch, and our company will—" He doesn't finish the sentence because my patience snaps.

"Enough!" The pressure building inside me finds an escape valve as I shoot up from my chair. I'm fucking fed up with the endless pressures and problems assailing me from all sides. "Do you want this job back?"

Confusion creases his brow. "What?"

"Do. You. Want. This. Job. Back?" Each word gets punctuated with a mix of anger and desperation.

"I retired for a reason, Clark." He straightens his back, a lifetime of pride swelling in his chest. "The CEO position is yours."

"Then act like it so I can work in peace." It's a command, not a request. "Can you go now? I have work to do."

"Ragazzo viziato," he mutters under his breath. Spoiled brat. His Italian always emerges when he's truly pissed. Without another word, he turns on his heel and slams the door behind him, leaving its frame trembling.

I collapse back into my chair. The sluggish deal with Ava, the infuriating ambush by my grandfather, and most of all, the childish falling out I had with Elias...it's all too much. I need to get some air.

With every nerve in my body frayed, I grab my jacket and head out.

"Take me to Oliver's," I tell John after sliding into the backseat of the car.

As we glide through the city streets, I find no solace in the scenery's change because my mind refuses to power down. The gossip article sent to me by my assistant continues to taunt me even days later. Images of Elias and Remy looking cozy together at Ava's event, all smiles and close whispers.

It didn't bother me at the time because I knew they were just friends. And when I wasn't walking the floor networking, I was by Elias' side most of the night.

But then I called to check on him the other day, only to find out he was hanging out with Remy. Alone. Jealousy instantly flooded through me, hot and irrational. I reacted like a complete asshole by abruptly hanging up on him.

I should've known better. I should've kept my cool. Instead, I let my feelings get in the way, causing a rift between us. Now I'm too chicken to apologize for acting like a dick. I really had no right to snap at him. We're not even officially together.

But you want to be, right?

I sigh, sinking further into my seat, the leather creaking softly in response. I stare out the window and can't help but wonder how different my life might have turned out if I'd never taken over Ashford Technologies as CEO.

What if I had chosen a different path?

Would my grandfather look at me with disappointment rather than annoyance? Would I be happier? Less burdened by stress and obligation? I live a life most people dream of, yet I can't recall the last time I've been truly happy with myself. Happy in my skin and at peace with my choices.

Contentment seems like such a foreign concept these days, something meant for others but not for me.

"We've arrived, sir," John announces, pulling me out of my head.

I try to shake off the melancholy weighing on me as I plan out my next moves. I'll have a quick bite to eat, then get back to putting out fires at the office. And maybe, if I can work up the nerve, I'll call Elias and apologize.

"Thanks, John. I won't be long," I murmur, stepping out onto the curb.

The city noise envelops me like a welcome hug, and I doubt I'll ever tire of the sounds of chaos. I grew up a city boy and I'll probably die one. Just not too soon, I hope.

I push open the door to Hudson's Kitchen and am greeted with the usual hum of conversation and fresh scents of garlic and bread. I scan the packed room with a silent prayer that my table is unoccupied.

Shit.

It isn't. What's worse, I know the faces taking up my space—Elias and Kahlan.

My heart jumps into my throat.

I debate making a quick exit before they notice me, but then Elias' eyes meet mine. His face lights up with a radiant smile that never fails to make my pulse race.

"Clark! Over here!" he calls out, waving me over with that infectious enthusiasm of his.

Does he not hate me?

I manage a weak smile, smoothing out imaginary creases in my suit as I approach. Kahlan is watching me with a stony expression as I slide into the booth next to Elias, hyperaware of his closeness. Oh, God... The scent of his cologne threatens to scramble my brain.

"You remember Kahlan?" Elias asks, still smiling at me warmly, almost as if I didn't act like a fool toward him just days ago.

I nod, cool and composed. "Nice to see you again."

"Wish I could say the same about you," Kahlan retorts, his deep voice dripping with disdain.

Well, he definitely hates me.

"Kahlan, stop," Elias hisses under his breath, but it's loud enough for me to catch.

I swallow hard, my face heating with embarrassment. Of course Elias confided in his best friend about my behavior. I acted like a jealous, insecure prick and I'm mortified that Kahlan knows it. I wouldn't be surprised to find out he warned Elias away from me, and rightfully so.

I open my mouth to speak, the apology itching at the back of my throat, but Kahlan pushes away from the table and stands.

"I'm gonna head out and let you two... do whatever it is you do," he says, a pointed look thrown my way before he strides off, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.

Fuck, now what?

Alone with Elias, I'm suddenly aware of every breath he takes, every shift in his chair. I feel like a teenage boy all over again, nervous and eager, sitting next to his big crush. I want to say something, anything, but the words are locked tight behind the fear of making everything irreparably worse.

Elias turns to me, his eyes softening. "Look, Clark—"

"Can we just...not talk about it right now?" I cut him off gently, desperate to dodge the confrontation a little longer. "I just want to be here with you. Enjoy the moment." My hands tremble slightly on my lap, and I clasp them together in a bid for control. "If that's okay."

"Sure it is." He nods, though his brow knits with concern. "How have you been?"

Terrible without you.

Even worse, now that I'm within arm's reach of the one person who makes me feel like I know what it is to be alive rather than feeling like I'm constantly drowning. All I can think about is how close I am to ruining it all.

"Hanging in there," I lie. "You?"

"Doing good."

"Yeah? Happy to hear it."

"Thanks. I'm just a few steps away from getting that building I mentioned to you before. For the second shop I wanted to open, remember?"

I nod, offering up a genuine smile. "Congratulations."

"Don't congratulate me until I get the paperwork signed." He chuckles, playfully bumping shoulders with me. "So, how are things with Ava? Still rocky?"

"Rocky is..." I pause, sighing heavily. "The perfect word to use right about now. You know my grandfather—"

"Is he still giving you a hard time about the deal not being closed?" he finished. I nod again. "Damn. No offense, but your old man doesn't sound like he's fun to be around, let alone work with."

My gaze lowers, and my smile falters at the truth. "That would be an accurate assessment."

"Hey." He touches my arm, softly, like I'm something fragile that he doesn't want to break. "Let's get you something to eat, yeah? Then we can talk about...it."

I really don't deserve this man. Not to have him as a friend or business partner. "Yeah, sounds good. Thanks."