Chapter 31

DREW’S POV

The after thoughts from the Charity gala still lingered in my head.

I stared down at the files on my desk, but my mind was far from work.

Lila.

Max.

Kimberley.

Every name felt like a hit to the gut.

Lila had walked into the gala like she belonged beside Max. Arm in arm. His hand possessively around her waist. The smile she wore was forced, I knew it was, but it still gutted me. She let him touch her. She let him parade her around like she was his.

And maybe she was now.

No. I couldn’t think like that.

It was all a stunt, wasn’t it? Max knew exactly what he was doing. Every step, every smirk, every word laced with arrogance. He wasn’t showing her off out of love. He was claiming territory, sending a message. And I hated that Lila was caught in the middle of it. I hated it more that it worked. Because it got to me.

I bought the damn necklace. Not for Kimberley. Not even for Lila, though part of me knew it would have looked beautiful on her. I bought it just to get under Max’s skin. To wipe that smug look off his face.

And it worked.

But now the necklace sat in its velvet box at home, unopened. Unclaimed. And I had no idea what I was supposed to do with it.

I leaned back in my chair, pressing my fingers into my eyes until I saw stars. Maybe if I pushed hard enough, I could erase everything I had seen that night. But nothing could undo the image of Max kissing her cheek. Nothing could remove the feeling that Lila was slowly slipping away from me.

Just then, at the worst timing Kimberley walked into my office.

I came to work early to distract myself, but she barged in without warning,no regard for boundaries or my secretary who was trying to stop her.

It was like someone reached into my chest and yanked my heart out with their bare hands. I didn’t hear the knock. My secretary’s voice was a dull hum in the background as Kimberley swept in like she owned the place.

"Hey, Drew," she said, her voice sweet and venomous, like honey laced with poison. "I've missed you."

I couldn’t move.

The last time I saw her was years ago. She had walked out of my life like everything we shared meant nothing. Left me to rot in the aftermath. I remember the night I found out she was gone, not a note, not a goodbye. Just... gone.

She shattered something in me. And from that rubble, I built this wall. This version of me that no one could touch.

And yet, here she was.

Standing in my office like it hadn’t taken me years to forget the sound of her laugh. Like she didn’t break me.

"What are you doing here," I managed to say as I dismissed my secretary, my voice strained.

She walked closer. "Well I came back because I missed you and I just wanted to see you. Did you miss me? Did you miss us?” She asked.

"There is no us or you and me,Kimberley," I said, finally finding my spine.

She smiled, slow and knowing, and took another step forward. "You don’t mean that and I can see it. You’re still mine. Just admit it."

But before I could respond, before I could push her away, she pressed her lips against mine.

I froze.

It wasn’t because I wanted it. It was because I couldn’t breathe. The panic started rising like bile in my throat. My vision blurred, and the walls felt like they were closing in again. She stepped back, smiling like she had won.

"I’ll let you get back to work," she said, turning to leave. "But I’ll be back.”

And then she walked out and ran into Lila.

Lila… who had walked in just moments later and found me spiraling.

But she didn’t flinch. She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t run.

She stayed.

Her hand against my chest was the only thing anchoring me.

And for the first time in years, someone touched me when I needed it.

Her hand against my chest was warm. Steady.

She breathed with me, her hand covering mine. Her eyes were wide, frightened, but strong. She became the anchor I didn’t know I needed.

The pain in my chest began to loosen. My limbs stopped shaking. And slowly, I began to feel human again.

She asked if I had medication. I could only nod, too ashamed to speak.

When she stood to get the pills, I grabbed her hand instinctively.

"Don’t go. Please. Just stay a little longer."

"I’m not leaving," she said softly. "Just getting the meds."

She returned quickly, helping me with the water, her hand brushing mine like silk. I took the pills, swallowing hard.

When I leaned forward again, I rested my head against her shoulder.

And she let me.

She didn’t move.

For nearly an hour, she sat with me, her arm around my back, her touch, light but comforting. The only sound was my breathing and the occasional clink of glass from outside. It was the safest I’d felt in a long time.

I wanted to apologize. To explain. To tell her how much I hated that she saw me like this.

But I couldn’t ruin the silence.

She didn’t see me as weak. She didn’t pity me. She just... stayed.

And when she finally stood to leave, I felt a tug in my chest I couldn’t ignore.

"I should go," she said gently, brushing a hand over my arm.

I nodded slowly.

"What did you come to say earlier?" I asked, voice hoarse.

"It can wait. Get some rest," she said, giving me a faint smile.

I watched her walk to the door, her figure lit by the soft light of the hallway.

Then she was gone.

And I was alone again.

But something was different. Her presence hadn’t left.

It filled the room like sunlight after a long storm.

I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes.

There was no denying it anymore.

She wasn’t just some employee. She wasn’t just another name on a project list.

She mattered.

More than I wanted to admit.

More than I was ready for.

And that scared the hell out of me.