Falling For Her contracted Husband

Third Person POV

Ocean adjusted the lapels of his suit as he stepped into the expansive conference hall, his expression a mask of calm professionalism. The room was abuzz with voices—dealmakers, entrepreneurs, and industry leaders all engaged in animated discussions. Ocean had little patience for small talk, but he played his part, exchanging firm handshakes and measured nods as he navigated through the crowd. 

The conference went smoothly enough, presentations and panels blending into one another in a blur of financial forecasts and strategic projections. Ocean contributed his piece, confident and concise, earning polite applause before retreating to a quieter corner of the hall to let the rest of the event play out.

As the evening wound down and the crowd began to thin, Ocean noticed Mr. Blake standing by the far wall, his presence as imposing as ever. It had been months since they'd last crossed paths, but the tension between them had hardly dissipated. Blake's sharp eyes caught Ocean's, and with a subtle motion of his head, he signaled for a private word. Ocean hesitated for the briefest moment before nodding and following him out into a smaller adjoining room.

"You've got nerve showing up here," Blake said, his voice low but edged with unmistakable anger. He didn't waste time on pleasantries. 

"I haven't forgotten what you did at the night of the auction. The disrespect."

Ocean kept his tone steady, though there was a flicker of irritation in his eyes.

"Disrespect? I was only protecting what was mine, just as you were so desperate to claim what wasn't yours to begin with. The neith of Egypt—don't think I've forgotten how far you were willing to go for your wife. Did you expect me to do less for mine?"

Blake's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, his expression hardening further. 

"Then tell me something, Ocean," he said, his voice quieter now but no less cutting.

"If you wanted it so badly, if it meant so much to you, why did you go for the auction? Why let it go at all, only to talk about taking it back? What's the use of fighting for something you've already thrown away?"

Ocean sat back in his chair, his fingers idly tracing the rim of the glass in his hand as he looked across the table at Mr. Blake. The room carried a weight that wasn't present before—an unspoken tension that had lingered between them for years but was only now being addressed. Ocean sighed deeply, his eyes briefly flickering to the floor before returning to Blake's face. 

"I need to clear the air," Ocean began, his voice steady but laced with a note of regret. "She didn't know about it. My wife, I mean. She had no idea. When she saw it, she… she wanted it. You know how Amanda gets when she sets her mind on something. I didn't know what else to do, Blake. I had to—" He paused, choosing his words carefully. 

"I had to make it happen. For her."

Blake leaned back, his hands clasped together as he listened. There was no immediate response from him, just a calm, measured gaze that gave nothing away. Ocean's shoulders dropped slightly, the weight of his confession leaving him feeling exposed. 

"I know it's not an excuse," Ocean continued, his tone softening. "It wasn't fair to you, and looking back, I wish I'd handled it differently. But it's done now. It's the past. And if it still bothers you… if you need to hear it, I'll say it. I'm sorry, Blake. Truly."

There was a long moment of silence, broken only by the faint hum of conversation from nearby tables. Finally, Blake spoke, his voice carrying the calm authority of someone who had long since made peace with the matter.

"Ocean," he said, leaning forward slightly, "I've thought about this for years. About what I'd say to you if this ever came up. And I've decided I'm done carrying it. I forgive you." 

Ocean blinked, clearly not expecting the words to come so easily. "You… do?"

"Yes," Blake said with a small nod. "Life's too short to hold grudges, especially over something that's water under the bridge now. I've moved on, and I think you should, too."

Ocean sat back, his chest rising with a breath of relief. For the first time in years, the knot in his stomach began to untangle. 

"There's something else," Blake added, his expression softening into one of genuine warmth. "I'm throwing a birthday party for Amanda next week. She's been looking forward to it for months. And I'd like you and your wife to come. It's time we all started fresh."

Ocean's brows rose in surprise, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You mean that?"

"I do," Blake replied. "Amanda would want you there. And so do I."

Ocean nodded slowly, the weight on his shoulders lifting just a little more. "Thank you, Blake. It means a lot. Really."

Blake turned away without a word, his departure marked by the sound of fading footsteps on the uneven ground. Ocean stood frozen, watching the space Blake left behind, a heaviness settling in his chest that he couldn't shake. It wasn't just the sting of being left alone—it was the realization that Amanda's birthday was only days away. The thought struck him like a sharp jab, pulling him into a cascade of memories. 

In the past, her birthday was always their day. He'd make sure everything was perfect, from the little surprises to the time spent together, even if it was just sitting in comfortable silence. The ache grew as he thought about how this year would be different. There would be no shared laughter, no stories told in the way only they understood. Instead, he was left to wonder how she'd celebrate, if she'd even think of him, or if she'd moved on completely. It hurt more than he cared to admit, but all he could do was stand there, letting the weight of it settle while the emptiness around him grew louder.