Chapter 242

Jace's POV

I felt my throat tighten as I tried to swallow, fighting to maintain my composure. Every muscle in my body seemed to tense as I struggled to keep my emotions in check, afraid that if I let even a hint slip through, the carefully constructed walls would come crashing down.

"I suppose you're surprised about Drew and me?" Eleanor said, her eyes meeting mine with a gentle directness that made my chest ache. "You know, Drew has actually loved me for years. He kept it hidden all this time because he knew how I felt about you. He was afraid that if he confessed, he'd lose even our friendship. It wasn't until I hit rock bottom that he finally showed his true feelings. He risked everything to help me get back on my feet before he finally told me how he felt."

I stood there in silence, listening to her talk about her relationship with Drew. The fluorescent lights of the laundry room cast harsh shadows across her face, but they couldn't hide the soft smile that appeared whenever she mentioned his name.

"If it weren't for Drew, I wouldn't be the person I am today," she continued, her voice taking on a slight tremor. She explained how Drew had arrived just in time to save her from what could have been a catastrophic situation. The entertainment industry had shown her its darkest side, and she'd learned harsh lessons about human nature. The gratitude in her voice was unmistakable as she described how Drew had appeared precisely when she needed someone most.

"I'm truly grateful that after everything I've been through, I finally found the right person," Eleanor's lips curved into an unconscious smile. "Jace, I used to hate you so much. I hated your indifference, hated that you couldn't love me back, and yes, I even hated that you chose to walk away when I was at my lowest point."

She paused, drawing a deep breath before continuing, "But now I'm thankful for your coldness. Without it, I might have spent my entire life trapped in your shadow, missing out on what I have with Drew."

"Take your time," she said softly, then turned and walked away.

I didn't try to stop her. Perhaps this was the best ending for us both - no love, no hatred, just peaceful acceptance. Time would flow on, and we would likely never meet again.

I watched her retreating figure, feeling a small smile tug at my lips. Her happiness was what mattered now. My feelings were irrelevant.

After what seemed like an eternity, the washing machine finally stopped its cycle. I mechanically removed my clothes and changed out of Drew's borrowed sleepwear. I folded his clothes carefully, placing them in the laundry basket.

Once dressed, I made my way through the living room, intending to leave. Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the bedroom - a heavy, alarming sound that made my heart jump.

Without thinking, I rushed toward the bedroom, my hand instinctively turning the unlocked doorknob. As the door swung open, I froze at the sight before me: Drew had Eleanor pinned to the floor in what appeared to be an intimate moment. I immediately turned away, my face burning.

The scene replayed in my mind as I stood there, back turned to the doorway. I had acted purely on instinct when I heard the crash, rushing in without consideration. Now, I found myself an unwitting witness to a private moment between them.

The air grew thick with awkward tension as I stammered out an apology. "I... I heard a crash. I thought..." My voice trailed off, the words feeling inadequate and foolish.

"It's okay," Drew's voice came from behind me, surprisingly calm. "Eleanor tripped over my guitar stand. I tried to catch her."

"I'm so clumsy," Eleanor added with a nervous laugh. I could hear them getting to their feet, the rustle of clothing as they adjusted themselves.

I kept my back turned, my mind racing with conflicting emotions. The protective instinct that had made me rush in now felt misplaced, almost intrusive. It was a stark reminder that I no longer had any right to be concerned for her safety - that role belonged to Drew now.

"I should go," I managed to say, my voice sounding strained even to my own ears. "I'm sorry for barging in."

Eleanor's POV

"Jace!" I called out suddenly, stopping him as he tried to make a quick exit from the room. My voice echoed slightly in the hallway of my apartment, carrying more emotion than I'd intended.

He paused mid-stride, his broad shoulders tensing visibly under his navy blazer. "I didn't mean to intrude on your evening..." His voice was soft, controlled, holding back something I couldn't quite read.

Breathing heavily, I pushed aside whatever complicated feelings were threatening to surface. "I need your help. Drew needs to use the bathroom." The words came out in a rush, driven by immediate necessity rather than the thousand other things I wanted to say.

The situation had spiraled quickly out of control. Just moments ago, Drew had attempted to stand up to go to the bathroom, and I'd tried to help him. But he was far more intoxicated than I'd realized. When I attempted to support his weight, he'd stumbled, completely losing his balance, and crashed right into me. We'd both gone down, with Drew's full weight landing on top of me. Now he was sprawled across my body, and I couldn't even manage to crawl out from under him.

Jace hesitated for just a moment before walking over to us. I watched as he carefully maneuvered his way around the coffee table, his movements deliberate and measured. With considerable effort, he managed to lift Drew's dead weight off me. Drew swayed dangerously on his feet, his eyes unfocused.

"Eleanor..." Drew's words were slurred as he tried to focus on my face. "Did I hurt you? Eleanor..."

"I'm fine," I gasped, still trying to catch my breath. My hip throbbing from where it had hit the hardwood floor. Mentally, I was cursing Drew's drinking - he'd obviously had way too much at the office party.

"Bathroom?" Jace asked simply, his arm firmly around Drew's waist to keep him upright.

Drew's head lolled slightly, his usual sharp wit completely dulled by alcohol. He seemed barely aware of his surroundings.

"Yes, please," I nodded, picking myself up from the floor with as much dignity as I could muster.

I followed them to the bathroom, watching as Jace carefully maneuvered Drew inside. Drew stood swaying in front of the toilet, fumbling unsuccessfully with his belt buckle, his fingers clumsy and uncoordinated.

"Did he manage?" I asked, stepping closer to the doorway.

"Stay outside," Jace said quickly, positioning himself to block my view. His voice was firm but not unkind.

"I can't... can't get it..." Drew's voice was frustrated, almost childlike in his current state.

Without thinking, I offered, "I can help him with-"

"I've got it," Jace cut me off sharply, then seemed to catch himself. His voice softened. "Just... wait outside for a moment, please."

I could hear Jace murmuring quiet instructions to Drew, the sound of a belt being unbuckled, fabric rustling. The whole situation felt surreal - my ex-fiancé helping my current boyfriend in such an intimate moment of vulnerability.

"There we go," Jace's voice carried through the door, followed by the sound of running water.

I stepped back from the doorway, my face burning as I realized how inappropriate my offer to help had been. In my concern for Drew, I hadn't thought through the implications. If Jace hadn't been there... I pushed the thought away.

Several long minutes passed before I heard the toilet flush and more water running. Jace had apparently taken it upon himself to help Drew clean up thoroughly - washing his face, hands, and even helping him rinse off a bit. I could hear the gentle splashing of water and Jace's patient instructions.

"Eleanor?" Jace called out. "Could you bring his sleepwear? He needs to change."

I quickly grabbed the spare set of pajamas I kept for Drew - simple cotton pants and a t-shirt - and handed them through the partially opened door, careful to keep my eyes averted.

Jace didn't comment on the well-worn nature of the clothes or ask why I had men's pajamas ready. He simply took them and proceeded to help Drew change. When they finally emerged, Drew was clean and dressed for bed, though still obviously drunk. Jace's forehead was beaded with sweat from the effort of managing my boyfriend's dead weight, his breathing slightly labored.

I picked up a glass of water from the kitchen counter and held it out to him. "Here, you should drink something."

He looked up at me, his familiar hazel eyes meeting mine for a moment before he accepted the glass with a quiet, "Thank you."

The atmosphere shifted immediately, becoming thick with unspoken words and shared history. The last time we'd been alone in this apartment, things had been very different between us.

"It's late," I said quickly, breaking the tension. "You should head home. I can take care of Drew from here. And... thank you for tonight. For everything."

"Of course," he replied softly. "Drew is a friend."

"Still, it's late," I repeated, my tone making it clear that it was time for him to leave.

I walked him to the front door, maintaining a careful distance. When he turned back at the threshold, looking like he wanted to say something more, I closed the door firmly but gently. Standing there in the darkness of my entryway, I could almost feel him still standing on the other side, separated by just a few inches of wood.

Finally, I heard his footsteps retreating down the hallway, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.