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.That evening, we opted for takeout to keep things relaxed and effortless Chinese food from a local spot Liam swore by for its authentic flavors. He ordered an abundance to ensure variety: fried rice with veggies, shrimp, and eggs mixed in for a fluffy, savory base; steamed dumplings plump with pork and chive filling, their skins thin and delicate; a colorful stir-fry of broccoli, carrots, snow peas, and tofu in a glossy savory sauce; and crispy egg rolls that crackled with each bite, stuffed with cabbage, carrots, and a hint of five-spice powder. We spread the containers out on the coffee table in the living room, surrounding ourselves with soft pillows on the floor for a casual picnic-style setup. The TV was tuned to a stand-up comedy special, the comedian's voice filling the room with witty punchlines and exaggerated gestures that had us chuckling from the start."This is way too much food," I said, dipping a dumpling into a small bowl of soy sauce mixed with a touch of chili oil an
I stirred awake in the guest room bed, the sheets soft and welcoming, wrapping around me like a gentle hug. The room itself was a sanctuary of calm, with its gray walls adorned with simple abstract art, a large rug at the center of the room, and a window that offered a view of the quiet busstle of the street. It had been over a week since I'd moved in after the unsettling break-in at my place, and the days had shifted themselves into a comfortable moments of shared routines. No new details into what lay ahead or what had brought me here just the simple pleasure of coexisting in this space, finding joy in the little things that made everyday life feel special and connected.No intimate moments, just two souls cohabiting.And no anonymous messages yetI slipped out of bed, stretching my arms overhead to shake off the remnants of sleep, my feet padding softly on the cool hardwood floors as I made my way downstairs. The house was quiet except for the faint clatter of utensils, and as I
The rain had stopped, leaving Chicago's streets shining under the morning sun. I woke up in Liam's guest room, the sheets soft and cool against my skin, the faint hum of the city filtering through the window. It had been a week since I'd moved in after the break-in at my place, and somehow, the days had slipped into a comfortable rhythm. No big talks about what was next just us, sharing the space, making the most of it. I strolled downstairs, my bare feet quiet on the wood floors. The kitchen smelled like fresh coffee and something baking muffins, maybe. Liam was there, in his usual spot at the stove, stirring a pot of oatmeal. He looked up when I entered, his smile easy and bright. "Morning, Nita. Sleep okay?" "Yeah, pretty good," I said, sliding onto a stool at the counter. "What's on the menu today, chef?" He chuckled, spooning oatmeal into bowls. "Oatmeal with blueberries and a dash of cinnamon. Nothing fancy, but I Sam sure you will love it." He pushed a bowl my way, along wit
Liam’s place was in the exotic part of the city, a sleek townhouse with tall windows and warm wood floors, nothing like my cozy, cluttered home. The rain tapped the roof as he led me inside, flipping on lights that cast a soft glow. It smelled of coffee and leather, with a hint of his cedar soap that made my chest ache. He set my bag by the stairs, turning to me, his face softer now but still tight with worry.“You okay?” he asked, stepping closer, his hands in his pockets like he was fighting the urge to reach for me.I shook my head, the weight of everything crashing down. “Not really,” I said, my voice cracking. “Someone was in my house, Liam. They went through my stuff, left that note… I’m scared.”He closed the gap, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me into his chest. I froze, then melted into him, my face pressed against his shirt, his heartbeat steady under my cheek. “You’re safe here,” he murmured, his voice low, his hand stroking my hair. “I won’t let anything happen to y
The plane ride back to Chicago was quiet, the dull roar of the engines couldn’t be compared to the wild pulse of Greece. Liam sat beside me, his laptop closed for once, his eyes fixed on the window, where clouds blurred into gray. I could still feel the warmth of his lips from that cove, the way his fingers laced through mine in the water, his voice calling me home under the Greek sun. But the threats; the text, the note followed us like shadows, and my phone stayed silent in my bag, heavy with the fear of another message. I stole glances at him, his jaw tight, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach for me but didn’t know how. Greece had cracked something open between us, but back in Chicago, I wasn’t sure what we’d find.We landed late, the city’s lights smearing through the rain-streaked windows of the cab. Liam dropped me off at my house, a small brick place in the quiet part of chicago, its front steps slick with November drizzle. “Call me if you need anything,” he said, hi
As soon as I got to my room, I picked out my phone from my bag with shaky hands, expecting to see another threat but it was just a text from Aunt Natty.I sank onto the bed, the white linens cool, my floral, a gift from Liam on our first trip together to Dubai draped over the chair, sparking memories of our penthouse mornings: coffee, his teasing about my burnt toast, his warm hugs. Aunt Natty had been digging into Liam’s accident, her silver hair and fierce eyes a constant in my life since my mother, Margaret Monroe died in a fire accident. With the threats flying around, all I could think about was how much time I had left. MG and Clarisse had followed me, even here, thousands of miles away.I knew I needed to act fast and most importantly figure out my mother's link to all of these.I opened Aunt Natty’s text: *Call me, urgent. Good and bad news.* My hands trembled, the intimacy of her role in my fight grounding me, but fear of what she’d found tightened my chest.I dialed, the