Sage

12

Gale^

Harry.

"And a special, special congrats to my dear friend Harry here, who is finally... a free man!" Gale raises his champagne glass and gives the guests a smirk, earning soft, rehearsed laughter. I shake my head under the scrutiny, a smile creeping onto my face as well. Because he was right- I am a free man.

After a late night of work, I'd come to the mansion since the meeting I was in was closer to there than my condo. I thought Quinn would be with one of her associates, but she was sitting at the dining table with an exhausted look on her face. When she saw me, she lifted her head and slid a stack of papers toward me.

I was confused, having to blink the sleep out of my eyes as I went to grab it, but she slammed her hand down, a bitter look on her face.

"We do an interview," She began. "We tell everyone that it was mutual, we grew apart but we stay friends."

"What-"

She held her finger up and closed her eyes for a second.

"You invest in and publicly sponsor CYBERGIRL. And every couple of fashion shows, you need to bet there. Front row and showing support, so everyone knows there is no bad blood."

I understood her at this point. These were her conditions.

She was giving in.

When I agreed, she slid the signed divorce papers toward me.

"Try not to look so fucking happy," She'd mumbled before making her way down the hall and to her room.

I was happy. And I still am.

Gale moves his hand from around my shoulder and pats my back, "Cheers!"

"Cheers!"

The lively chatter continues in my condo, jazz resuming over the wall speakers and the clatter of waiters serving drinks I can't pronounce.

It was a small house party, no more than thirty guests and they were all close business associates or investors. Gale insisted that I celebrated my freedom by going to a wicked club he knew on the southside, but I was rightfully apprehensive to step foot in that area for a long fucking time.

"Congratulations, Styles." Jim finds me, outstretching his naturally sweaty hand and shaking mine. The beads of sweat on his forehead and his slightly louder tone tells me he'd had one too many glasses.

"Thanks, Jim, couldn't have done it without you," I smile and weave toward a tux-clad woman with her hair pinned back into a bun. She holds a tray with champagne glasses, offering one to Ronson.

"Hey," I jutt my chin and she turns to me, quickly handing me a drink. "Thanks."

"So now that you've got one of your problems out of the way..." Gale's hand appears on my shoulder as I'm mindlessly smiling and nodding at the guest. "What are your plans for the other one? The one you're pretending doesn't exist."

"She's not my concern," I say through a gritted smile.

Gale hadn't dropped Eliana from his mouth since he found out what happened, and it's becoming an aggravation.

I didn't need his high talk about what I should have done because quite frankly he's never had someone accuse him of being the father of their unborn child. So there's that.

"Is this really the type of dad you want to be?" He lowers his voice, but there's still amusement in his tone since he's tipsy.

His words make my hand tense around the glass as I take a sip, "I'm not a fucking dad, Gale."