"Sometimes the hardest part isn't letting go, but rather learning to start over." - Nicole Sobon, Program 13

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Silas's POV

Present Day

"What happened when she saw you kissing another woman." Dr. Meyers keeps her cool, calm professionalism, but we both know she's full of shit and dying for me to tell her everything.

"Nothing."

She looks me dead in the eye, as if almost strangling me with her aggressive gaze. "Nothing, Silas?"

I smile at her impatient expression. "Alright fine, something happened."

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Five Days Earlier

"Caden," I say breathlessly. She's looking at me, but she isn't really looking at me. I can tell.

Her eyes are dull, lifeless, and they barely even glanced in my direction. "Ms. Aldridge, your father is looking for you," she states monotone.

"Thank you, Caden." The woman behind me pops her head out for her to see before her gaze travels to me. "I will see you later, Mr. Sanders." The tone of her voice can make anyone believe what we did was consensual, and I know damn well Caden is thinking the exact same thing.

But before I even have a chance to utter another word, she's gone. Vanished.

I walk out of the balcony but it's as if the walls of the room swallowed her whole. Where the hell did she go?

I check the ladies room but to no avail. Then the kitchen, the dining area, the living room - nothing.

After about 15 minutes of me looking for her, I find myself tired and dejected. Fuck me. She's going to hate me even more than she does now.

After another five minutes of me visiting the same places I've looked before to hopefully see her there, I just give up. She doesn't want to see me.

I travel to the third floor, hoping to find a vacant room to leave me to my thoughts. One door to the right of the staircase looks promising.

And when I open the door, my gaze lands to the woman sitting on the bed, shuddering with tears.

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Caden's POV

Silas.

Silas is here. Here. Out of all the places he could have been, he had chosen to be here. Under the same roof as me, and kissing another woman at that.

I know I shouldn't feel anything. I shouldn't feel anything for him, but god, my stupid heart just has to bounce all over the place in my ribcage when I saw him standing there, looking as handsome as the last time I saw him.

But then the blood-curdling anger seeped in when I remember him. Him leaving me in the hospital at my most vulnerable, firing me from my job, and just abandoning me.

I hate him.

I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.

I just wish that hatred could've extinguished the feelings I still had for him. Dang it!

It's not like I didn't know Sanders Corp had done business with Mr. Aldridge, I just didn't expect him to be here. Frank had told me he wasn't sure if all three CEOs would be here, and I was more than relieved to hear that.

But nope. He's here. And he's kissing someone else and has totally forgotten about me. Just great.

I retreat myself to the third floor in some random room, and just cry. Cry and cry, and yeah, cry some more.

Because I saw him. After more than a year, I finally saw him, and then I saw his lips connect with lips that weren't mine. I shouldn't be jealous. He has every right to kiss whoever he likes. But that doesn't take away the ache in my chest when I saw it.

I've missed him. I've missed him so much, but apparently I never even made a dent in his life to move on from me so quickly. I shouldn't be upset. He had ended our relationship a long time ago, it's time I move on.

I was so lost in my own thoughts, I didn't notice the door opening or the figure that stood there. I didn't notice him locking the door behind him. Eventually, after the last few tears had dried and the dulling headache had subsided, I finally looked up.

And there he was. Standing. Watching. But not saying a word.

Be calm, Caden. Handle this with professionalism. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you wanted this room. I'll be out of your way." I headed for the door, but Silas stopped me with a hand on my arm. "Caden.." His voice was just as I remembered it and it made me wince.

"I have to get back to the party. Do you need anything... Mr. Sanders?"

His eyes bore into mine as if searching for something, but I refuse to let my guard down. He's hurt me too much for me to become vulnerable to him again.

"I need you." He's just saying it, Caden.

"No, I'm not. You asked me what I need and that is you." Screw me and my intrusive, outspoken thoughts.

"I don't know what you mean." I keep my voice calm and even, and I can tell it's frustrating him.

He takes a step forward, and I will my legs not to step back. "I. Need. You." His hands reach to touch my waist before stopping halfway and retreating back to his side. "What do you need me to do?"

He scratches the back of his head... nervously? I have never seen Silas nervous. It's unsettling. "How have you been?" His voice is even, but he flexes his fingers, crumbling his calm façade.

"I am good." I do not want to have small talk with him so I quickly say, "I really must get back to the party. Have a good night." But again, I am stopped. His hand goes to my waist, and my breath is cut short by the way it curves to my body. It's as if a puzzle was fit back into place the way his hand curves to cup my abdomen, and I should not be liking it as much as I do.

"Caden." His whisper sends shivers down my spine, and I can't bring myself to move. God, I've missed him so much. I've missed him so, so, so much, and I hate myself for it. He still knows exactly how to touch me to get me crumbling and I resent it.

He doesn't let got of me. Instead, his hand travels behind me to the small of my back, while his other hand meets my waist again. He turns me to face him, but I refuse to look him in the eye. "I've missed you." His husky voice makes the hairs on my nape stand up, but I refuse to let him see the affect he has on me.

His pushes me to him until his chest is flush against mine and my resolve cracks just a tiny bit. "Silas," I state, forgetting that I was supposed to not know him or talk to him or let him touch me the way he's touching me right now. But, Jesus, it feels so good.

I expect him to smirk that cocky smirk I'm so familiar with whenever he knows he's affected me, but he doesn't. I look up at him, finally meeting his eyes, and I see... longing? That can't be it. But something is different. There's something peaceful about his eyes. There's no underlying pain or arrogance. Just desire and.. lov- No. Nope. Nah. My head is giving me craaaazy ideas.

"I'm sorry." His words take me by surprise, so much so that I am completely lost for words. "I've missed you so much. And I'm sorry I let you go." His words hit my chest hard and I just stand there, staring at him staring at me looking like he's about to die.

His face is pained, regretful, and I almost break my resolve and give him a hug. But I can't.

I don't want him to hurt me again, or leave me. My heart has already been beaten down so many times, I don't know how much more I can take rebuilding it again.

I can tell he knows what I'm thinking. But that doesn't stop him from tightening his hold on me, and bringing his lips to my neck. He kisses me tenderly, as if one wrong move, and I'll push him away. And that's almost true.

Except, his lips feel so good. And the way he's holding me feel so good. And his smell, and his face, and his everything just feels so freaking good. So I don't move.

I don't move, and I know I'll be punching myself later.

His lips travel to my collarbone, kisses it, and then kisses it some more before savoring the other side.

I try to control my breathing, but at one point when he bites the flesh of my skin before soothing it with his tongue, a small whimper escapes my lips and I can tell he liked it very much by the bump that has settled itself against his slacks.

"I've missed you so much, baby." His deep voice reverberates against my skin before kissing his way down my chest. His hands itch to raise themselves under my dress, but I can tell he's restraining himself. His lips don't go farther than my chest and neck and occasionally behind my ear and on my ear and near my ear. Did I tell you that it felt like heaven?

I let his hands explore my body. His palms go to my thighs, caressing them as if he's never touched them before, and then travel to my waist, up my abdomen, and settle themselves on my breasts. His fingers circle the sensitive area of my nipple through the thin fabric of my dress and it breaks a small moan out of me which makes him groan in pleasure.

All the while, he speaks soft words to me that make my heart flutter. Things like "You're so beautiful" and "I've missed you so fucking much" and it doesn't help the tingling in my center, eager for him.

"Please." Please. Please, please please and I know what he's please-ing about. I know exactly what because I'm thinking the same thing even if I don't want to. Because he's here, practically on his knees, devouring my body and soul, and begging me to let him in. To let him touch me and kiss me the way only he knows how to do.

And before the initial yes comes out of my mouth, I state what he will definitely not like. "This... isn't personal." He stops. He stops and looks at me, outrage and arousal swirling in his eyes.

He gives my neck one last kiss before moving to my ear and whispering, "Baby, everything between us is personal. I know you hate me right now, and I know you hate yourself for wanting me. Wanting this. But listen carefully. Because the next time I have you, this isn't going to be just sex. This isn't going to be some fuck between two people. When I have you, I have you. You will be mine."

"No," I whisper, denial laced in my words. He doesn't laugh or smirk at my lies. He just burrows his face into my neck and whisper, "Yes, baby, because I'm already yours."

I wish I could say he left me stranded, breathless and alone. Nope, yeah no, he didn't do that. He didn't do what I thought he was going to do which was be an asshole.

I don't know what happened but this isn't the man I met a year ago. This is a completely different person. Because his hands go to his pocket and grabs a small packet of makeup wipes. Makeup wipes! Who carries makeup wipes in their pocket?!

He takes one out and gently caresses it over the top of my lips where my lipstick apparently smudged. Then he swipes it under my eyes, on the edges of my face and down to my jaw. I don't tell him that the only makeup I'm wearing is lipstick and mascara. I refuse to when this man is literally making sure my makeup isn't ruined for other people to see.

Then he grabs a small comb from out of his other pocket. Again, WHO CARRIES A COMB IN THEIR POCKET!? He brushes the few strands of hair that went out of place and then combs through the length of my hair. I stand there still as a statue, to shocked to even speak as he brushes my hair. He finishes my whole head before tucking the sides of my hair behind my ears. When he's done, he cups me face, gives me a small kiss on my forehead before rubbing the kiss away just in case my "foundation" smeared and holds out his hand.

"Let's join the party." And I wordlessly take his hand and join him.

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Silas's POV

Present day

Dr. Meyers looks stunned and almost... proud.

"Where did you get the comb and makeup wipes?"

"Swiped it from Sawyer."

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Caden's POV

Present Day

"Silas, what are you doing here?" Silas is here again. At my work. Well, technically it's my lunch break but that is beside the point. WHY IS HE HERE?

"I am here to have a lunch date with you." I can see the giant picnic basket behind him and that does little to cover the small smile at the kind gesture. "How do you know my lunch break?"

"I have connections." He tries to reach for my hand but I step back, uncertainty clinging to me. He notices and a small frown sets on his face. His sad eyes meet mine.

I can't stand the way he's looking at me like a dejected dog so I finally address the elephant in the room. "I mean, what are you doing here? In my life. We broke up a long time ago, I need to move on."

Before I can walk away, he steps forward, completely invading my space and allowing me to smell the sweet, masculine scent radiating off of him. "Well, I need you not to move on."

I sigh, annoyed and a little peeved off and that he thinks he can just- "You can't do this." I look at him angrily before taking a step forward, forcefully, making him take a step back. "You can't mosey on into my life again and disrupt it. I was dong fine without you. I will continue to do fine. But you popping up in and out of my life is stressing me out. You can't come into my life again as if nothing has happened. You've hurt me too much to allow you to have me."

When I finally catch my breath and take a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart, I pull my eyes up to find his pained expression staring back at me. "I'm sorry," I whisper, even though I know I shouldn't be apologizing.

He looks at me, and I thought he would go back to his cold, calm demeanor. But he doesn't. He looks at me, looks at the basket, and then looks at me again.

I wait for him to say something, anything, but all he does is set the basket next to me and give me a small kiss on my forehead. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I will make it all up to you, I promise," he whispers, before finding his way out.

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He shows up to my lunch break again. He doesn't say a word to me though. He drops off a small lunch basket on my desk and then leaves.

Curious, I open the basket and find a chicken sandwich, a soda, and a bag of chips. I allow myself a small smile knowing that he took the time to make me lunch. I dig in, not wanting to waste the food, obviously, before I notice a piece of paper sticking at the bottom of the basket.

"Have a good day at work.

You look stunning, and I miss the hell out of you."

I tuck the paper in my purse, not acknowledging the burst of butterflies that had erupted in my stomach.

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Two Weeks Later

He's dropped off a lunch basket every single day since then, the only difference being the rose that would accompany him. He'd set it on the table, give me a kiss on my forehead and leave. No words exchanged, no actions taken.

I am totally screwed.

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