194 A Drunken Confession Exposed
“The man who’s been circling you like a vulture since our separation?” Alistair’s jaw tightened. “He’s using you, Hazel. Can’t you see that?”
He stepped closer. “We’re going to this event together, Hazel. For appearance’s sake, if nothing else.”
## Hazel’s POV
“I have the call recorded,” Alistair announced, pulling out his phone. “Would you like me to play it for everyone? Let them hear exactly what Hazel said about your night. together?”
I didn’t bother denying it. Sebastian had asked me days ago, and I’d happily accepted. The thought of walking in with him made my heart flutter in a way it hadn’t in years. A small crowd of residents had gathered in the lobby, watching our confrontation with undisguised interest. This was exactly what Alistair wanted–a scene, an audience. Gasps rippled through our audience. My cheeks burned with humiliation and anger. “What are you talking about?” I demanded. “I never called you drunk!”
“Oh, did she not tell you people know?” Alistair continued, his eyes gleaming with malice. “She told me herself, during one of her drunken calls.”
I rode the elevator down to the lobby, mentally preparing myself for the evening ahead. The doors slid open, and I stepped out, expecting to see Sebastian waiting by the
entrance.
“You’re lying,” I said, but my voice wavered with uncertainty.
Sebastian’s voice cut through the tension. He stood in the doorway, commanding attention in his perfectly tailored black suit. His eyes quickly assessed the situation, hardening when they landed on Alistair.
Alistair laughed bitterly. “Of course she’d say that with you standing right there. She doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
Sebastian stepped forward, placing himself slightly in front of me. “I think you should leave.”
194 A Drunken Confession Exposed
“Is everything alright?”
My phone chimed with a text from Sebastian: “Downstairs whenever you’re ready. No.
rush.”
Alistair stood in the middle of the lobby, wearing a tailored tuxedo and holding a bouquet of white roses–my old favorite.
I couldn’t breathe. The lobby seemed to close in around me as whispers erupted among the spectators. This wasn’t happening. Alistair couldn’t be doing this to me- not here, not now.
“I already told you, I’m going with Sebastian.
“Goodbye, Alistair.” I ended the call before he could finish.
The blood drained from my face. I had called Alistair that night–I vaguely remembered dialing his number after too many glasses of wine with Vera. But I’d hung up before he answered… hadn’t I?
“Hazel never called you drunk,” Sebastian stated firmly. “And for your information, we haven’t slept together.”
Instead, I froze mid–step.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, glancing around for security.
The next evening, I stood before my mirror, hardly recognizing the woman staring back at me. The emerald dress hugged my curves, my hair fell in loose waves past my shoulders, and my makeup was flawless–bold red lips replacing my usual neutral palette.
Alistair smirked. “That’s not what she told me that night. She was quite detailed about your… encounter.”
“That’s enough,” Sebastian warned, his voice dangerously low.
“Let them talk.” I examined my freshly painted nails. “I’m already going–just not with you.”
Such a simple message, yet so different from Alistair’s impatient demands. I grabbed my clutch, feeling a flutter of anticipation in my stomach. Not nerves–excitement.
194 A Drunken Confession Exposed
My phone buzzed again with Alistair’s name flashing on the screen. This was his third call in the last hour. I rolled my eyes and answered, my patience wearing thin. “Closure?” I nearly laughed. “We signed divorce papers. That’s all the closure you get. “Hazel, don’t do this.” His voice hardened. “We have history. Six years together. You can’t just replace that overnight with some-”
“Actually
I’m not,” Alistair countered, stepping between us. “Hazel and I have plans tonight. We’re attending our university event together.”
“Protecting your new conquest?” Alistair sneered. “Did she tell you we’re still technically married? The divorce only just finalized yesterday. You’ve been sleeping with a married woman, Sinclair.
“Of course not,” I answered immediately. “I already told him I’m going with you.”
“The only person who ever used me was you,” I snapped. “Six years of my blood keeping you alive. Six years of my devotion while you-”
“Hazel, please. The university’s anniversary event is tomorrow. We should go together,” he pleaded, his voice softened in that manipulative way I’d grown to recognize. “For old times‘ sake. For closure.”
“You look beautiful,” he said, ignoring my question. His eyes traveled over my dress with obvious disapproval. “Though this isn’t really your style, is it?*
“You know,” Alistair said loudly, addressing the onlookers, “it’s interesting how quickly some women move on. Six years together, and barely three months after our separation, she’s already in another man’s bed.”
“It’s exactly my style. You just never bothered to notice what I actually liked.” I kept my distance. “You need to leave.”
My mind raced frantically. Had I said something in a drunken stupor? Had I dreamed about Sebastian and confessed it to Alistair, thinking I was talking to Vera instead?
“Two
weeks ago,” he said smugly. “You had too much wine with dinner and called me at 1AM. Don’t you remember your tearful confession about sleeping with him?” He jerked his head toward Sebastian.
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. “You’re going with him, aren’t you? With Sinclair?”
194 A Drunkon Confession Exposed:
The room fell silent as all eyes turned to me, waiting for my response to this bombshell
accusation.
“Everything’s fine,” I said, moving toward Sebastian. “Alistair was just leaving”
I tossed my phone onto the bed and stretched, feeling lighter than I had in months. The divorce papers were signed. I was free. And tomorrow, I would be attending our university’s anniversary celebration with Sebastian–not as his date, officially, but definitely not as just friends either.
“My personal life is no longer your concern,” I said simply.
“What now, Alistair?” I kept my voice flat and disinterested.
But I wasn’t that Hazel anymore.
“Unlike you,” Sebastian replied coolly, “I trust Hazel to speak for herself.”
My closet beckoned, and I pulled out the dress I’d designed specifically for tomorrow’s event. The deep emerald silk would complement my complexion perfectly. Unlike the soft, demure styles Alistair had always pressured me to wear, this dress was bold with a plunging neckline and an open back. It was the kind of dress the old Hazel would never have dared to wear.
Sebastian’s expression remained calm, but I noticed the slight tightening of his jaw. “Is that what you want, Hazel?”
“There’s a photo display of all alumni couples,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Our picture from senior year is going to be there. People will talk if we don’t show up together.”
