Chapter 25: The King-size Bed

Then they reached the main bedroom.

His assistant and realtor stopped outside the door to give Alex some privacy. He motioned for them to follow.

Ah.

There it was.

The answer.

The enormous bed Dominic had chosen was an absolute disaster.

Sheets tangled.

Pillows scattered.

Clothes everywhere.

Alex stepped farther inside before stopping beside a shirt thrown carelessly over the back of a chair.

His shirt.

He recognized it immediately.

He picked it up.

It wasn’t merely something similar to his. It had been made for him, right down to the small embroidered initials inside the collar.

A.V.

Except Alex hadn’t worn it in months.

Another garment lay near the bed.

His pajamas.

A pair he distinctly remembered leaving in the closet.

The trousers were there.

The top wasn’t.

Alex slowly looked around until he found it crumpled near the bathroom entrance.

For some reason, that bothered him more than the toothbrush.

He opened the wardrobe.

Several of his things had clearly been moved around, while others looked like they’d been used and returned carelessly.

A long-sleeved shirt he knew he’d had professionally cleaned was wrinkled.

One of his boxes of cufflinks sat open.

Alex stared at the empty slot inside.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

So that explained the familiar cufflinks Andrew had been wearing.

"Sir?"

"I’m fine."

He wasn’t sure why everyone kept asking.

Alex walked into the bathroom.

More toiletries.

More products he didn’t use.

A moisturizer he’d never bought sat beside Dominic’s things as comfortably as if it had always belonged there.

There were even strands of blond hair caught near the sink.

Alex stared at them.

That was almost insulting.

Not the cheating alone.

The evidence management.

Had neither of them considered cleaning up after themselves?

His gaze drifted toward his reflection.

For a brief moment, he barely recognized the expression looking back at him.

Because this had been their house.

Or at least, that was what Alex had believed.

He had paid for the renovations while Dominic chose what their bedroom would look like. Alex had worked ridiculous hours partly because the projects between their families needed someone to handle them. Whenever Dominic told him not to worry about coming all the way home, Alex had believed he was being considerate.

Stay at the condo tonight.

You’ll be exhausted by the time you get here.

Get some sleep, Alex.

How thoughtful.

Apparently, Dominic had been concerned about his drive.

Alex walked back into the bedroom and stared at the bed.

Their bed.

The absurdly large one Dominic had insisted they needed.

A rather unpleasant possibility entered his mind.

Alex immediately turned away.

No.

Absolutely not.

Some questions a person didn’t need answered if he wanted to keep sleeping at night.

He went downstairs instead.

By then, his assistant had an answer regarding the household staff.

"They were instructed not to report here temporarily."

Alex stopped.

"By whom?"

There was a slight pause.

"Mr. Sebastian."

Of course.

"Reason?"

"He apparently told them the renovations and their schedules made regular housekeeping unnecessary for the time being. They were still being paid."

Alex laughed once.

Quietly.

Because naturally they were.

He was still paying them.

Dominic had simply made sure they weren’t around to see anything worth reporting.

For someone who supposedly hated unnecessary complications, his former fiancé had certainly developed a very efficient system.

Alex continued toward the kitchen.

By then, he already knew what he would find.

He just hadn’t expected the refrigerator to be quite so informative.

Alex opened it.

Chicken.

A surprising amount of chicken.

Marinated chicken, cooked chicken, and containers holding what looked like leftover roasted chicken.

There was milk.

Alex hated drinking milk.

Two cartons.

He stared at them.

The freezer still contained some of the steaks he preferred, although far fewer than he remembered buying.

Pizza boxes and leftover pasta in containers sat alongside several snacks Alex wouldn’t have bought even if someone had handed him the money first.

None of that meant anything by itself.

People bought different food.

Dominic had his own preferences.

Guests visited.

But Alex had spent enough time around Andrew through work to know the blond drank milk constantly.

He also knew Andrew preferred chicken over red meat.

And he distinctly remembered Andrew once ordering the same pasta, sitting half-eaten in the refrigerator during a company lunch.

Alex closed the door.

Slowly.

The house suddenly felt very quiet.

What hurt wasn’t discovering that Dominic had brought Andrew here.

Alex already knew about the affair.

He already knew they’d been together behind his back.

The painful part was realizing how much space Alex himself had unknowingly given it.

His house.

His clothes.

His bed.

Even the staff, whose salaries still came from his accounts, had apparently been sent away so Dominic and Andrew could enjoy the place without inconvenient witnesses.

And Alex had allowed it because he’d trusted Dominic.

That was perhaps the most humiliating part.

He’d been so busy carrying responsibilities Dominic had gradually handed over to him that he’d never once wondered what his fiancé was doing with all the free time Alex had helped create.

Whenever Dominic told him he was tired, Alex understood.

Whenever he wanted space, Alex gave it.

Whenever he said something was fine, Alex believed him.

God.

He really had been naive.

Alex rubbed a hand over his face.

The realtor wisely said nothing.

After another moment, Alex took a deep breath and looked toward his assistant.

"Have the household staff come back."

"Yes, sir."

"I want every personal item that belongs to me removed from this property. Clothes, documents, toiletries, accessories. Everything."

His assistant nodded and began making notes.

"If there’s any uncertainty about ownership, put it aside and send me a photograph."

"What about the furniture?"

Alex looked around.

Most of it had been Dominic’s choice.

Paid for with Alex’s money, naturally, but Dominic’s choice nonetheless.

"Sell it."

His assistant paused. "All of it?"

"Anything I don’t specifically mark."

Alex walked through the house one final time, placing small removable markers on the relatively few things he actually wanted to keep.

It was almost funny how little there was.

A painting.

Several books.

A few personal belongings.

That was about it.

Everything else could go.

Furniture could be sold or auctioned. Anything clearly belonging to Dominic would be packed properly and sent by courier to the Sebastian estate.

Alex wasn’t interested in destroying anything.

He just didn’t want the memories.

When they eventually stepped outside, the realtor was already discussing photographs, staging, and how quickly the property could be placed on the market.

Alex turned back toward the house.

For years, he’d imagined that one day he and Dominic would actually live there.

Apparently, someone already had.

It just hadn’t been him.

"Mr. Vance, your final instruction?"

Alex looked away.

"Sell it."

The realtor nodded.

Alex got into the waiting car without looking back again.

By the following afternoon, the first truck arrived at the Sebastian estate carrying several carefully packed boxes bearing Dominic Sebastian’s name.

A courier stepped out with a clipboard and rang the bell.

And somewhere inside the house, Dominic still believed Alexander only needed a little more time to calm down.