A Night Of Regrets

Chapter 4:Rooftop Encounter

The gala was finally winding down, the murmur of voices, the clinking of glasses dying as people finally started to take their leave, but opulence and overindulgence still seemed palpable in the air.

Joy had finally finished her last round, thankful it was finally over. Her feet ached and her back hurt-all she wanted to do was retire into the familiar silence of her small apartment.

Yet, there was something in her that did not want to leave just yet. It could have been that rare taste of that world knowing she didn't belong to it, or maybe it was that urge to steal a peaceful moment before getting real again-whichever the case, her feet led her up the stairwell onto the rooftop terrace in search of solitude.

She finally pushed the door open, allowing the cool night air to whip across her skin.

Save for the sparkling city lights stretching far beyond the venue, the world below going about its busy, chaotic yet peaceful business from this height, the terrace was deserted.

Joy leaned against the stone railing and breathed deep, trying to force away the weight that had followed her all evening.

A soft sound came, and turning-she saw him: Robin Carrington.

He was leaning against the doorframe, his suit jacket gone, the first few buttons of his shirt undone, giving him a more relaxed almost vulnerable air than he had given off previously.

His eyes, though sharp, softened when they met hers. For a moment neither said anything, the silence filled only by the hum of the city below.

"Didn't think anyone else would be up here," Robin said finally in that low, smooth voice, as if he too wanted to escape the night.

Her heart tumbling within her breast, Joy straightened. "I-ah-I didn't mean to intrude. I just needed some air." Joy swallowed hard, suddenly ill at ease in his presence.

He smiled wryly, a shadow of the calm manner he'd worn all night. "You're not intruding. May I join you?"

Joy hesitated but nodded. "Sure. It's a free rooftop, after all."

He walked over to stand beside her, leaning against the railing, his gaze fixed on the city lights. For several moments, neither of them spoke-the silence growing comfortable.

"You work here?" Robin asked, breaking the quiet.

"Just for tonight, I'm serving drinks," Joy said, waving her hand.

Robin nodded, but in the quick flicker of his eyes over her, Joy felt he was really seeing more than a server. Something quietly intense lay in his gaze, something which seemed to search for answers.

She chewed her lip, unable to think of anything further to say. Then all her frustrations, the weariness of their ceaseless labour and the bitterness that had stewed inside her through the night, boiled over.

"It's kind of funny," she said, tone sharper than she meant it to be. "You're up here hosting this charity event to help kids in hospitals, and yet your company sends out the bills that keep people like my mom drowning in debt."

Robin's eyes blinked with surprise. "What am I talking about?"

Joy shook her head, regretting her words almost immediately. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-

"No," he cut in, turning to her more fully. "Tell me."

Joy let out a deep sigh; the sting in her eyes welled with tears despite the prodding in her brain to keep them within.

"My mom's sick, and it's against that every now and then, the hospital sends us bills which we are unable to pay, and your firm is doing its management. It's just that each time I think that we're getting somewhere, another bill shows up. I am doing three jobs just to keep her meds paid for." She said, stopping abruptly. "I'm just.tired."

The words hung between them, a warm raw weight. She hadn't expected him to care-after all, he was just another rich man in a suit, faceless and far away from people like herself.

But something flickered in Robin's eyes. He seemed. moved.

“I didn't know," he said softly. There wasn't any condescension in his voice, just a soft sincerity. "I'm sorry."

Embarrassed, Joy wiped at her eyes. "I don't want your pity. I just wanted to get away a few hours, pretend like I wasn't drowning in all this."

Robin watched her a moment, then wordlessly reached for one of several leftover champagne bottles sitting on a table nearby. He popped it open and poured some into a glass, then handed it to her.

"Here," he said, extending the drink. "To getting away."

Joy just stared at him a second before reaching for the glass.

"Thanks." She sipped the glass, and the cool bubbles fizzed on her tongue such a stark contrast to the fire rising higher in her chest.

They stood in silence again, this time palpable tension hanging in the air between them. It was not just the conversation; it felt as if something out there-wordless almost-sparked between them in energy.

He took a step closer to her, his eyes not leaving hers. "You're different," he told her in that low voice of his. "I don't meet many people who are. real."

Her heart was racing in her chest as she looked up into him, their faces inches from each other. So sudden; this glimpse of vulnerability in him caught her off guard.

She just didn't know what hit her, and the gap was bridged. Their lips met in a kiss urgent as it was soft.

The kiss deepened further, and the next thing Joy knew, they were inside the deserted penthouse suite attached to the rooftop, clothes scattered, hands feeling out.

It was as if the world melted and the only two things that existed were lost in each other.

The rest of the night unfolded in a blur-a moment neither had contemplated but could not avoid. They had unprotected s*x. Raw, intense, and ephemeral, just like the world from which both had been trying to escape.