Picking up the pieces

Evangeline POV

I barely remembered checking into the hotel last night. Everything after the meeting with the lawyer, the signing of those damned papers, felt like a nightmare I couldn’t wake from.

I sat on the edge of the stiff hotel bed, staring at the plain beige walls, feeling like a ghost in my own skin. I hadn’t even bothered to unpack. What was the point?

The life I knew was already gone. I laid back slowly, staring up at the cracked ceiling. For the first time in years, I had no home to return to. No arms waiting to hold me.

Just silence. Heavy, smothering silence. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling tears well up—but I refused to let them fall.

Not now. Not tonight. I was already drowning. If I started crying, I might never stop. Eventually, sheer exhaustion pulled me under.

The blaring alarm yanked me awake at six the next morning. I rolled over and groaned, my body aching like I'd been in a war

For a moment, I just laid there, staring at the gray light creeping through the window blinds.

Another day. Another battle. I forced myself upright, every movement heavy, like I was dragging chains behind me.

I couldn’t afford to fall apart. Not now. My job was all I had left. Everything else—my marriage, my home, my dignity—was already gone.

I got dressed mechanically, pulling on my best formal blouse and pencil skirt. Pressed, proper, perfect. The armor I needed to face the world.

But before work, there was something I had to do first. I drove across town to my son’s school, my heart thudding painfully against my ribs.

When I arrived, kids were already pouring out onto the playground, their laughter filling the air with innocent joy.

It was cruel, in a way. How easily life moved on for them. How the universe didn’t even blink while my world crumbled. I spotted my little boy near the swings, his backpack crooked on his shoulders.

My throat tightened painfully. He saw me and his face lit up.

“Mommy!” he shouted, racing towards me. I crouched down, catching him in my arms, squeezing him so tightly he squealed.

“You’re here early, where did you go yesterday? I was looking for you!” he said, beaming.

I pulled back and forced a smile, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “I just... wanted to see you before work, honey.”

He rummaged through his backpack eagerly and pulled out a wrinkled drawing.

“I made this for you!” I took it, my hands trembling slightly.

It was a crude drawing of our family—me, him, and Nathan, all holding hands.

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat. “It’s beautiful, sweetheart. Thank you.”

I blinked rapidly, willing the sting in my eyes to go away.

He frowned, peering up at me. “Mommy, why are you sad?”

Children. They saw everything. Even what you didn’t want them to. I kissed his forehead, breathing him in. “Mommy’s just a little tired, baby. That’s all.”

He didn’t look convinced. I stood up, holding his small hands in mine.

“There’s something important I need to tell you.” His face turned serious immediately, like he could feel the weight in my voice.

“You might not see Mommy for a little while,” I said softly.

“Why?” he asked, his voice quivering.

I knelt down again, brushing my fingers over his cheek. “Don’t worry, love. You’ll find out soon. But I promise...”

I choked slightly and forced the words out. “I promise I will always love you. Always, no matter what."

His tiny arms wrapped around my neck, squeezing so tightly I could hardly breathe. “Love you, Mommy.”

I closed my eyes and held onto him like he was the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth. Maybe he was. When I finally pulled away, it felt like tearing out a piece of my soul.

I waved until he disappeared into the school building. And then I turned away quickly before he could see the tears streaming down my face.

By the time I got back to the hotel, my hands were shaking so badly I could barely unlock the door.

I checked my phone. A message notification blinked at me. Delivery Confirmed. My chest tightened. It was the courier company.

The divorce papers I had sent out yesterday had been delivered. And a second notification. Signed and returned.

I stared at the screen, feeling my world tilt. Nathan hadn’t even hesitated. Hadn’t even called to question it. Just... signed. Like it was a business transaction.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, clutching the phone in numb fingers. That was it, then. The end of everything. A dry, bitter laugh escaped my lips. I had wasted years of my life for a man who had discarded me faster than yesterday’s newspaper.

But I couldn’t afford to crumble now. I had already lost enough. My job was the only thing I had left. The only shred of stability in the storm wreckage of my life.

I had worked so damn hard for this promotion. Sacrificed weekends, holidays, sleep, time with my son.

I couldn’t lose this too. I wouldn’t survive it. I drove to work on autopilot, my knuckles white on the steering wheel.

But the moment I stepped into the lobby, I felt it. The tension in the air. Thick. Palpable. Like the entire building was holding its breath. People moved around stiffly, avoiding eye contact.

Whispers against themselves. My heart hammered harder. Something was wrong. Very wrong. I headed for the elevators—and nearly collided with Nora.

“Eva!” she gasped, grabbing my arm like a lifeline.

“Nora, what’s going on?” I asked, startled. She yanked me into the elevator and stabbed the button for the seventh floor.

Her eyes darted around nervously. “You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?” I asked, an unsettling feeling crawling into my spine.

“The new CEO,” she whispered fiercely. “He started today.”

“What! Okay... so?”

Nora leaned in closer, her voice barely audible. “He's fired six people already.”

I stared at her, my stomach dropping. “What?"

“In the last twenty-four hours. Six people gone. No warnings. Just... fired.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “That’s insane."

The elevator dinged open and we stepped out into chaos. Phones ringing unanswered. Desks half-abandoned. People whispering frantically in corners.

Two women stood near the coffee station, murmuring in low voices. “I heard he fired Ms. Clarke in front of everyone,” one said.

“And she begged him,” the other whispered. “He didn’t even blink.”

Nora tugged me forward, urgency in every step. She grabbed a file off a desk and shoved it into my hands. “Here. You have two minutes to read this before the board meeting. He's ruthless”

“What—?”

“Just read it,” she hissed.

I flipped it open, skimming frantically. New targets. New expectations. Unrealistic. Ruthless. The kind of standards no human could meet without killing themselves first.

My chest tightened painfully. I snapped the file shut and threw it onto the nearest desk.

“This is impossible,” I said, my voice shaking.

Nora grabbed my hand. “ Then we have to go.”

“But—Nora—”

“No time!” she said urgently, dragging me towards the massive boardroom at the end of the hall.

Every step felt like walking toward my own execution. We pushed open the heavy doors.

Silence slammed into us. Twenty-five people sat around the long mahogany table.

All eyes turned to me. Some curious. Some pitying. Some indifferent.

But one pair of eyes hit me like a punch to the gut. At the head of the table, lounging in a high-backed leather chair, was the new CEO.

He was impossibly tall, with dark hair and sharp features carved from ice. One hand resting lazily on the table, the other tapping an impatient rhythm.

And he was already watching me like he was imagining exactly how to break me.

I froze mid-step, my breath catching painfully in my throat. Oh God, he was staring at me. Not just looking. Staring.

His gaze pinned me in place, cold and assessing. Like a predator sizing up his prey. The air left my lungs. For a moment, the room spun.

Our eyes locked and I swore he smirked, just slightly. Like he already knew something I didn’t. Like he had already decided my fate.

And then he spoke. His voice was smooth. Deep. Unforgiving.

“Miss Evangeline” he said, every syllable cutting through the silence like a blade. “You’re late.”

He stood up slowly, buttoning his suit jacket with maddening precision.

“And unfortunately for you…” He paused, letting silence burn. " I don't believe in second chances..”