lan's footsteps halted at the door, his back stiffening. He didn't answer right away.

"Tell me," Xavier pressed, his chest rising and falling visibly. "Are you trying to win her back?"

lan slowly turned, his gaze falling on Xavier's face. "Does it matter?"

Xavier met his gaze, a bitter smile twisting his lips. "It matters to me." He took a deep breath. "lan, if you've decided to reconcile with her, then treat her right. Don't do anything to hurt her again. But if you have no intention of doing that..." He paused, his voice taking on an almost pleading tone. "Then give other people a chance, will you?"

Looking at his tormented friend on the sofa, lan finally spoke. "Xavier, Eleanor already likes someone."

As Xavier's head snapped up, lan's voice came out low and steady, twisting the knife. "And it's not you."

Pain filled Xavier's bloodshot eyes. "It's him, isn't it? Mansfield."

lan's gaze darkened as he gave a slight nod. "On New Year's Eve, Mansfield was at Eleanor's house."

To Xavier's ears, the implication was clear: Mansfield had spent the night. His pupils constricted, the answer striking him like a physical blow. Mansfield. His family's influence was immense, his background untouchable, and he himself was a man of impeccable character. He was so perfect it could make anyone feel inadequate.

Xavier nodded, a bitter laugh escaping him. "Is that so? Well, it seems Eleanor has good taste. She picked an outstanding man." He then looked up at lan. "And what about you?"

lan's eyes narrowed. "Whatever my feelings for Eleanor are, they don't matter anymore. She's made her choice, and we should both respect it. Get some rest."

With that, lan opened the door and left.

The alcohol had mostly worn off, and Xavier suddenly felt the urge to have another drink, but now there was no one to share it with.

At ten, the doorbell rang. Joslyn opened it to find lan standing there. "Sorry, I forgot to change my shoes."

"Ma'am is upstairs putting Evelyn to bed," Joslyn said. "You should get some rest too, Mr. Goodwin."

lan changed his shoes, glanced up toward the second floor, and left.

Eleanor heard the front door open and close downstairs. She figured Xavier had been taken home, was too exhausted to think any more about it and quickly fell asleep.

But that night, at least two men lay awake, lost in their thoughts.

The first was Xavier. He couldn't get the image of Eleanor and Mansfield spending New Year's Eve together out of his head. Any man knew what that meant. And he knew Mansfield was deeply devoted to Eleanor. With the shifting political landscape Mansfield's future status would be untouchable. If Eleanor were to marry him... Xavier rested his head on his arms and felt a strange sense of release. He shouldn't stand in the way of her marrying into a better family. She deserved it.

The second was Henry. His mind was a battlefield occupied by two women: Vanessa and Selma Quigley. As a man, Selma's recent coldness toward him was like a feather tickling a nerve, making him desperate to ask a single question, to prove one thing. Contént

Was he really that bad that night?

He scrolled through his texts from Selma again. They were polite, detached, filled

with gratitude for saving her life, but utterly devoid of any other emotion.