Secrets and Silence

Elena’s POV

The silence on the other end felt like drowning.

I pressed the phone harder against my ear, waiting, my heart doing that thing where it pounds so hard you can feel it in your throat. Maybe she didn’t hear me. Maybe the line cut out. Maybe I could just hang up and pretend this never happened.

“Mom?” My voice cracked a little.

“What about Adrian?” she finally said, and her tone was careful. Too careful. The kind of voice you use when you’re trying not to scare a wild animal.

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

How do you tell your mother you slept with her fiancé before you even knew who he was? How do you explain that the universe has this sick sense of humor and you’re the punchline?

“I just,” I started, then stopped. My brain was moving too fast and my mouth couldn’t keep up. “I met him before. Before tonight. Before I knew he was with you.”

Another pause. Longer this time.

“Met him where?”

The question hung between us like a knife.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell her the whole truth, not over the phone, not when she sounded so fragile already. Not when I’d just screamed at her an hour ago about ruining everything.

“At the interview,” I blurted out. “For the job. He’s the CEO of Vaughn Corporation. The company I applied to? It’s his company, Mom.”

I heard her exhale, and it sounded like relief. “Oh, honey, is that all? You scared me for a second there.”

All? Was that all?

“I just thought you should know,” I said quickly. “Since I got the job. They sent me an email tonight. I start Monday.”

“That’s wonderful!” Her voice brightened, and I could picture her smiling. “See? Everything’s working out. You’ll get to know Adrian better, and you’ll see what a good man he is. This is perfect, Elena.”

Perfect. Right. Perfect like a car crash in slow motion.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice flat. “Perfect.”

“Are you okay, sweetheart? You sound strange.”

“I’m just tired. It’s been a really long day.” That wasn’t a lie, at least.

“Of course. Get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay? I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

I hung up before she could say anything else.

The phone slipped from my hand onto the couch, and I just sat there staring at nothing. The apartment felt too quiet. Too empty. Like the walls were pressing in.

I almost told her. I almost said it.

But I couldn’t. Not when she looked at him the way she did at dinner, like he hung the moon and stars just for her. Not when she finally seemed happy after years of being miserable with Dad.

What kind of daughter destroys her mother’s happiness?

I grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. Not loud. Just enough to release some of the pressure building in my chest.

Monday. I had to face him on Monday.

My boss. My mother’s fiancé. The man who’d been inside me two nights ago.

I wanted to throw up.

The weekend passed in a blur of anxiety and overthinking.

I avoided my mother’s calls, sending short texts instead. “Busy. Talk later.” She didn’t push, probably thought I was still upset about the divorce.

I spent Saturday cleaning my apartment like a maniac, scrubbing the bathroom tiles until my hands hurt, reorganizing my closet three times. Anything to keep my mind busy.

Sunday I tried on seven different outfits for work. Professional but not trying too hard. Confident but not arrogant. I settled on a navy blue blouse and black pencil skirt, then second guessed it and changed into a grey dress, then back to the blouse again.

By Sunday night I was exhausted and no closer to knowing how to handle this situation.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, my mind racing through scenarios.

Maybe he’d act like nothing happened. Maybe he’d pretend we never met. Maybe this could just be a normal job and I could keep my head down and avoid him as much as possible.

Or maybe he’d fire me the first chance he got to avoid the awkwardness.

Or maybe, the worst option, he’d tell my mother everything.

I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow.

Sleep didn’t come easy.

Monday morning arrived too fast.

I got to Vaughn Corporation at eight forty-five, fifteen minutes early. The lobby looked different somehow. More intimidating. The glass and marble screamed money and power and I felt small walking through those doors.

The receptionist, the same prim woman from the interview, smiled at me. “Miss Morgan! Welcome. Mr. Vaughn is expecting you. Twentieth floor, his office is at the end of the hall.”

“Thank you,” I managed.

The elevator ride up felt like it took forever and no time at all. My reflection in the mirrored walls looked pale. Nervous. I tried to fix my expression into something more professional but it just made me look constipated so I gave up.

The twentieth floor was quiet. Sleek. Everything was either glass or dark wood or both.

I found his office at the end of the hall, the door slightly open.

I knocked. Twice. Light taps.

“Come in.”

His voice sent a shiver down my spine. I hated that my body remembered.

I pushed the door open.

Adrian sat behind a massive desk, looking at his computer. He glanced up when I entered, and for just a second, something flickered across his face. Recognition maybe. Or regret.

Then it was gone, replaced by cool professionalism.

“Miss Morgan. Right on time.” He gestured to the chair across from him. “Please, sit.”

I sat, my hands folded in my lap to keep them from shaking.

He studied me for a moment, those grey eyes unreadable.

“Before we begin,” he said slowly, “we need to establish something.”

My heart stopped. This was it. He was going to address it. The night. The hotel. Everything.

“What happened between us,” he continued, his voice low, “never happened.”

I blinked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said carefully.

“Good.” He leaned back in his chair. “Then we understand each other. This is a professional environment. You’re my assistant. I’m your boss. Victoria is your mother and my fiancée. Nothing else matters. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” I said.

“Excellent.” He opened a folder. “Now, let’s discuss your responsibilities.”

But I could barely focus on his words. Because I’d just realized something.

He’d hired me knowing exactly who I was.

Knowing what we’d done.

And for some reason that terrified me more than anything else.