I didn’t plan to spend my day off buried in digital archives.
But I didn't plan to spend my twenties holding on to memories either. The soft golden ray of the evening sun sneaked in through my living room blinds as I sat cross-legged on the couch, my laptop in hand, a plate of cookies on my right, and tabs spilling across the screen. It was 6pm and I still hadn't done much. I had old medical records, press clippings, and encrypted files from my old nursing contacts. It had taken weeks to gain access and longer to find out the name of the private clinic Liam had been transferred to for six months. That information was sealed by a confidentiality agreement and nobody wanted to be on the bad side of the Grey family. I had spent the first two years after the separation working as a private nurse and administrative officer. But every time I go home to rest, I kept thinking about the man whose ring I still wear and the promises I still hold on to. It was the third year that I decided it was time to come back and fight for my love. I stared at the displayed files, wondering where to start. A knock on my door would have startled me. But this time around it was my phone. It rang continuously. Liam. I hesitated a little before answering. My voice is calm and neutral. “Hello?” “Hey,” he greeted casually like some old friends. “I know it is short notice but do you happen to have the hard copy of the Shelsport vendor contract ready, The soft copy got corrupted and I need it” “Yes, I brought it home to revise. There were errors in the first draft.” “Good, I will come and pick it up,” he said. “Wait, you are coming to my house?” I was genuinely surprised. “Yes, is that a problem?” he asked, I could picture him raising his brows through the phone. “No, not at all.” “Good because I am ten minutes away.” “Okay, sir.” The line went blank. My apartment was a mess. Half-researched files on the table, a cardigan on the back of the couch, a coffee mug with a lipstick stain on the rim, and my half-eaten plate of cookies. I grabbed the folder and shut my laptop with one hand, brushing crumbs off the chair with the other. I wasn't dressed to perfection. Loose pink t-shirt paired with white shorts. No makeup, just my hair in a loose twist and my feet in a flip-flop. Contemplating either heading upstairs and changing or just wait around in my shorts since he is here for a quick stop. I didn't get the opportunity to decide because a soft knock pulled me out of my thoughts. ‘That was fast’ I thought aloud. Another knock. I opened the door slowly. There he was, Liam Grey looking more casual than ever dressed in beige free pants and a white shirt. He looked different from the office boss. He looked like the Liam I know. He looked handsome. “Hey,” I greeted. He didn't reply, instead, his eyes flicked to my hair, the apartment behind me, and then back to me. “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” he asked. “No,” I said. “Just research.” “Work?” “Sort of,” I said, stepping aside. He stepped inside, glancing around like he didn't expect it to feel…..personal. My apartment was quiet, warm-toned, and minimalist. I had added a few new furniture like a display shelf, a fur rug, and random artworks I got from A****n. He didn't say anything. Cutting the silence short. “You can sit while I go get the file from my room.” I used the two minutes it took me to dash to my room and to release the breath I was holding, “The file’s here.” I handed it over. “I highlighted the inconsistencies and added a note about the vendor’s late f*e clause.” He flipped it open, then stopped. “You rewrote the entire second page.” “It was vague,” I said. “And legally sloppy.” His lips twitched. “You’re either very efficient or terrifying.” ‘Or I just know how you like your work done’ I chuckled. “Can’t it be both?” He laughed quietly. It was the kind of laugh that sounded like it could light up the world. “Your place is simple, beautiful,” he said, putting down the file beside him. “Thank you” I muttered. “It smells like cookies” “You're right, I baked some earlier today” I smiled at his observation. “Hmmm A good personal assistant and a good cook,” he asked raising a brow. “I was about to make dinner, If you don't mind you could have dinner before leaving and maybe I can teach you a few new tricks,” I said with a tease laced in my voice, challenging him. “Good thing it is my free day” he gave a small nod. I moved to the open kitchen, calling out on my way. “Water or wine?” desperate to soothe my growing nerves. This is what I wanted, for him to be close. But I never thought it would be this soon. “Water's fine.” “A cup of water coming up.” He relocated to the kitchen counter and sat down while I set the cold cup of water before him. He accepted it with a small nod “Thanks.” He used to sit at the kitchen counter while I moved around. Used to make stupid comments about how I overfilled the kettle. Used to sneak behind me and press his lips to my shoulder while I pretended to scold him. “So what are we eating tonight?” he continued. “Well I have a special recipe for Chinese rice I use on special days” “So you consider these a special day” he asked. ‘These will be our first meal together in three years’ I wanted to say. “It is not every day you have your boss over for dinner” I replied Instead “So I consider this a special occasion.” “And you are not scared of me stealing your special recipe,” he asked with his light laughter filling the air. I moved to the top cupboard to get out the cookware I will be needing. “I know you don't know how to cook, so my recipe I safe.” I blurted out. “And how do you know that?” I stopped midway. Way to go Elsie. I could feel his intense gaze hitting my back. I turned around slowly. I stuttered, “It is more of an assumption from your status.” He said nothing. Just stared” “And you said we haven't met before?” he asked. Turning my back to him while I continued prepping for dinner “not at all.” The conversation shifted and we talked about work and clients while we moved our way around the kitchen. He helped me chop the vegetables while I cleaned the meat. There was a loud vibration from Liam’s phone which he muted and ignored. “How long have you been living in Chicago?” He asked. “I lived in Chicago a few years ago before moving to New York, but I just moved back here three months ago.” “Why did you move back here?” He asked to clean his hands with the kitchen towel. “I was done with the reason I moved to New York and besides I saw a good job opening so I applied” I turned the rice into the pot and allowed it to simmer for a bit on the stove. “And you think moving over 700 miles away for a job is beneficial?” “Let’s just hope it is beneficial.” He didn’t push further. I didn’t want him to. At least that is what I told myself. What if I remind him and he still doesn’t remember? Or he still chooses Clarisse regardless. What if Maverick hurts him just because I can’t keep my feelings in check. All these will just push my husband further away from me. Right now I will just enjoy the moment. “Food is ready” I announced turning off the stove. “Perfect timing,” he said, sitting up. “One minute later and you would have to share your cookies with me” he joked. I let out a soft laugh. I placed two plates of Chinese rice and oyster garlic sauce with a jar of pineapple juice on the kitchen island and took the stool opposite him. We slowly started digging in. I waited for him to take his first bite before I took mine. “Hmmmm this is nice” he complimented “I can feel the effect of the cinnamon,” he said taking another spoon. “Thank you” I replied. We ate in silence. *His phone rings* Liam muted it. “You live alone?” He asked. I nodded “yes” “No siblings, roommates, or boyfriend?” he asked taking a sip of his pineapple juice. “No, it is just me in this city” I was slowly beginning to lose my appetite. I barely eat much lately. “What about you, Do you live alone?” I asked. Just on cue, his phone rings again. He mutes it. “Sure you don't want to pick that up?” I asked, “It has been ringing for quite some time.” “Nah it is Clarisse, I am avoiding her,” he said briefly. “You mean your fiancé?” I blurted out. “How did you know that?” he asked dropping his cutlery. “Hmmm, I watch the news and office gossip” I defended. “So you participate in office gossip?” “Not really, news flies,” I said trying to shrug it off. “The majority are false,” he said staring at me. His voice sounded like he was trying to convince me. “She has been around for some time now, way longer than I want” he took the last sip of his juice “My space no longer feels like my space, I wanted to get away from home That's why I came myself to pick up the file.” That was a reply I never expected. “You think coming over to my place will make you feel better?” “I don’t know how to say this, but……” he hesitated for a moment before he continued.My phone buzzes on the kitchen table, Aunt Natty’s name glowing against the dim morning light. She’s not just my godmother, she’s the closest thing I’ve got to family. I grab it quickly, my heart already pounding.“Aunt, what did you find?” I ask, pacing the tiny kitchen, the smell of coffee grounding me.“Elsie, honey, hold still because this is a shocker,” she says, her voice sharp with that fire I’ve always loved. “I got Clara in records to pull Liam’s file again. It isn’t good. Dr. McMillian, the slick neurologist who signed his release.”There was a pause“But there’s no medication listed. None. No painkillers, no anti-seizure meds, nothing. For a man in a coma for three weeks? That’s not a slip-up. That’s suspicious.” She continued.My stomach twists. Last week when I told her about McMillian resigning, I saw the suspicion spark in her eyes. She knows the hospital better than anyone, and just his name set her off. “You think he was hiding something?” I whisper, my grip on the ph
Mr. Grey, this is the file you requested.”Her voice drifted in, soft and careful, just before a polite knock sounded on my office door.I looked up, smirking to myself. Anita Marshals stood there, folder clutched in her hands, her posture composed as always. But I had long since stopped seeing her as just another secretary.“Mr. Grey now, huh?” I drawled, leaning back in my chair, letting my eyes linger on her longer than necessary. “So that’s what we’re doing? Just Mr. Grey?”Her brows pinched slightly as she stepped closer, laying the folder neatly on my desk. “You asked for the report,” she said evenly, her voice polite but restrained.“Yes, but Liam works just fine.” I tilted my head, letting the grin sharpen just enough to make her blush. “Especially considering the night at your house.”Her hands stilled. A faint flush crept into her cheeks before she could stop it. She quickly clasped her fingers together, trying to compose herself, but the damage was already done.And just li
I sat down calmly at the diner while I listened to the faint hum of the light jazz song filling the background. The notes drifted lazily through the air, mixing with the clinking sounds of cutlery and the low murmur of distant conversations. It isn’t a fancy diner, no dazzling chandelier hanging in the center or marble countertop top but it is just the perfect place to have a meeting you want no one to find out about. My feet tap lightly on the tiled floor betraying the nerves I am trying to keep low and thankfully the dim light did justice in covering the nervousness on my face. A soft chime from the doorbell indicating someone had just entered the diner dragged my attention. And then a large smile covers my face when I saw her. I looked up, and the moment I saw her, my lips stretched out a smile I haven't worn in years. Aunt Natty. I stood up raising an eager wave to catch her attention. She stops mid-step, her eyes locking on me. Not much has changed about Aunt Natty in the l
I kissed him back.With just as much hunger, expressing years of buried desire.He took my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing my cheeks slightly as his lips moved against mine with a fierce velocity that stole the air from my lungs.I gasped, and he took full advantage to deepen the kiss, his tongue slowly finding mine, fighting for dominance and tasting me like he’d been starving for it.I didn’t hold back. Couldn’t.I slide my hands slowly up his chest, fingers clenching the fabric of his shirt. He groaned into my mouth, the sound low. I climbed into his lap without thinking, straddling him as my hands got busy with his hair. I’d spent years denying this part of myself. Denying us. And now, he was here, in my home, in my arms and the kiss felt like coming home.He wrapped his left arm around me, pulling me tighter against him until I could feel every inch of him. A little moan escaped my lips, taking that initiative he uses his right hand to grab my butt cheeks. Nothing was bet
I had just gotten home when the rain began again. It felt like a reminder of the kiss. It was past midnight when the knock came. I jolted up from the couch, my heartbeat pounding in the silence of my small apartment. I have been living with my mind on edge ever since the break-in. I hadn’t been expecting anyone, especially not this late. The rain had stopped an hour ago, leaving the streets wet and shiny. The faint light from Chicago City cracked through my window. Another knock. Firmer. Slower. Intentionally hesitant. I strolled toward the door in my socks, my robe loosely tied over my nightshirt. When I peeked through the peephole, my breath caught in my throat. Liam. He stood there, slightly swaying, one hand in the pocket of his slacks, the other brushing back damp strands of his hair. His suit jacket was missing, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, and his tie crooked and loosened. He looked like an unstable man but still beautiful in the most dangerous way. He looked dr
I didn’t wait to hear another word. The moment Liam turned his attention to Clarisse’s flirty whisper and placed a hand on the small of her back, something snapped inside me. The air felt tighter. Sweat trickled down my spine, and my throat tightened. I murmured an excuse and left Liam’s office as fast as I could without drawing attention.As soon as I shut my office door behind me, I leaned against it and exhaled shakily.I needed to breathe. To think.I was running out of time.I don’t even know why MG hates me so much.Or whatever happened after the accident.I ducked into my tiny office. Trying to keep my trembling hands stable, I repeated the breathing exercise my therapist taught me.But the calm I was reaching for shattered at the sharp click of heels approaching.Before I could even turn to look, the handle twisted, and the door swung open without a knock.Clarisse.She stood in the doorway like she’d rehearsed the entrance. Dressed in an ivory silk blouse and a tailored wine