Reject My Alpha President (Iris and Arthur) novel Chapter 97

Chapter 97

+25 BONUS

Chapter 97

“I should give him his medicine,” I say, moving away from Arthur. I hurry upstairs before he can say anything, where I find Miles sitting up in bed, coughing and rubbing his eyes. His kitten is sitting beside him, mewing and pawing at him as if in worry.

“Mommy, I don’t feel good,” Miles moans.

I let out a soft sigh and sit on the bed beside him, spooning his medicine out. “I know, sweety. It’s just a cold from the water. Take your medicine, okay?”

Miles winces at the flavor of his medicine and refuses at first, but finally relents. Within a few minutes, he’s settled again, drifting off to sleep with his kitten in his arms. I sigh again and scratch the kitten behind the ears, then kiss Miles on the forehead and get up, making a mental note to call the doctor in the morning.

But I don’t go back downstairs all night. Rather, I make my way into my studio, where I spend the night working on a painting inspired by memories that I’ll never forget.

Arthur

Iris doesn’t come back downstairs all night, and I don’t blame her. I probably scared her away, in my stupid drunken state, trying to woo her with wine and dancing and old songs.

I feel like a fool as I sit in the living room, finishing my drink. It suddenly tastes like ash on my tongue, and I think back to what Iris said about drinking alone.

She’s right, of course. I never used to drink alone, but then she left, and it became almost a nightly occurrence. Never enough to make me sick or hungover, but always enough to dull the pain, to make it easier to sleep.

Truthfully, I can’t sleep without her by my side. Not unless I’m inebriated.

Around two in the morning, I finally decide to call it a night I head upstairs, but pause halfway down the hall, seeing a light still on in Iris’s studio. Curious, I quietly open the door and peek inside.

1/2

Chapter 97

*25 BONUS

Without thinking, I carefully scoop her up and carry her down the hall. She doesn’t stir the whole time, too exhausted to wake. But I don’t take her to the guest room.

I take her to my room. To our room. I do it without even meaning to, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Carefully, I set her down on the bed, on the right side where she used to sleep. Then, quietly, I crawl onto the other side and pull her close. She whimpers softly in sleep, nuzzling against me just like she used to every night, and my heart breaks all over again.

That night, just for one night, I fall asleep with her wrapped in my arms.