Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Ethan’s POV

I arrived at the office almost an hour earlier than usual because Sophia was starting work today.

My assistant had told me we have an appointment in the other branches, but I turned it back because she was starting work here today.

I hated the fact that I had checked the time more than twice, waiting for he.

I remembered five years ago, it had been five years  and Sophia still had this effect on me.

I dropped the file in my hand onto the desk more than twice. 

“Forget her.” I said, because if she had disappeared years ago, then why would she come back now? 

Someone knocked the door , my eyes immediately lifted.

For a second I almost laughed at myself, the  door was not even open yet and I already knew it was her.

“Come in.” The door opened slowly and Sophia  stepped inside.

For a moment neither of us said anything .

“Good morning, sir.” She greeted.

Sir?  The word irritated me more than it should have.

Sir?  As if we were strangers.m, as if she had never once called me ‘honey’ as if she doesn’t greet me with kiss.

I leaned back in my chair. “You are late.”

Her brows immediately pulled together. “I am not late?”

“You are two minutes late.” I said, without looking at her.

She looked at her phone. “It’s just two minutes.”

“I don’t care.” I said sharply.

The look she gave me almost made me smile, almost but I didn’t let it obvious… There she was.

The same stubborn woman who disappeared five years ago.

I tried to ignore her look, Instead I opened the drawer beside me and pulled out a thick stack of files, placing them one after another on the table until the sound filled the space between us and made it harder for her to pretend this was just a normal first day.

She was only looking at me. 

“You will start with this,” I said, pushing the files slightly closer to her side of the desk.

She hesitated again, that same quiet pause she always had when she did not agree but still refused to argue, and that was  what used to drive me crazy in the past because she always made me feel like she was holding something back from me.

“Take them,” I added, voice lower now.

I watched her struggle to pack it, good, She still knows how to follow instructions when it matters.

But inside me, the anger was still there, sitting heavy, refusing to calm down.

If she had disappeared five years ago without saying anything, I would make sure she regretted it, I’ll make her regret it by  making her work until she felt it in her bones, until she understood what it meant to leave someone standing in silence.

I stood up from my chair and adjusted my suit without looking at her face for too long because if I looked too long I would forget why I was doing all of this.

I walked past her and stopped at the door.“Follow me,” I said without turning fully.

I did not wait for her to turn, already knew she would come.

The corridor was quiet as we walked, only our footsteps making  sound, and with every step she took behind me it felt like the past was coming back again without permission, the day she left, the silence that followed, the way I kept staring at doors like she would suddenly walk back in as if nothing had happened.

I pushed it all down. We stopped in front of the storage room and I opened it.

This was where the papers for years has been, the one untouched, as we get in, the smell of old paper and dust, I really do not need them done but I really meant showing her what it means to leave someone without a word.

I turned slightly to look at her. “You will arrange everything in here,” I said.

Her eyes moved across the room slowly, taking in the weight of it all, and for a second I expected her to complain, to refuse, to show me that same fire she used to have when she did not like something.

But she only looked back at me and stayed quiet.

“Sort them by year,” I continued, voice firm again, “and do not mix anything, if you make a mistake you start again from the beginning.”

She nodded once and she  bent down and lifted the first box.

It was heavier than it looked and I saw her arms shift slightly under the weight before she adjusted her grip.

My body moved before I could think of anything. 

I stepped forward and took part of the box from her hands without saying anything.

Our fingers touched for a second and I pulled back immediately like it meant nothing.

“Careful,” I said flatly, “if you drop it, you fix it.”

She did not answer, sheonly steadied herself and kept working.

I stayed there for a moment longer than I needed to, watching her carry the next box, then the next one, and something in me kept tightening even though I was the one who put her there.

When I finally turned away, I told myself again this was necessary. If she had left like that, she needed to understand consequences.

But even as I sat back in my office, I found my eyes going to the CCTV screen without thinking.

And the more I watched her, the more I started to hate the fact that I was the one who could not stop watching.