Chapter 5

 

 

Orana’s Point of View

“Mama, you’re staring at me again.”

I blinked, dragged back into the present by a small, sweet voice.

My daughter stood in the middle of the room with her tiny hands planted on her hips, already dressed, already impatient. Her curls framed her face in soft chaos, and her green eyes.

The same eyes that looked like his watched me with far too much awareness for a five-year-old.

“I am not staring,” I said, forcing a lightness into my tone as I reached for her hairbrush. “I’m admiring.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, unconvinced with what I was saying.

“You always admire when you’re thinking too much.”

I huffed out a quiet laugh despite the way I was feeling. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” She nodded with eagerness.

I knelt in front of her, gently turning her around so I could fix her hair. My fingers moved, parting, smoothing, braiding into two long braids. motions I had perfected over the years. The morning sun filtered through the curtains, catching on the soft strands as I worked.

This was our routine every Monday. Something I had mastered to avoid overthinking. Most days it helped, but not today. Her birthday was coming up.

“Hold still,” I murmured.

“I am holding still,” she protested, wiggling.

“You are absolutely not.” I retorted, kissing her cheek and pushing all thoughts back to the back of my head.

She giggled.

The sound wrapped around my heart, warm and grounding, pulling me away from the places my mind didn’t need to go.

Five years since I walked away from Callahan.

From the life I thought I had. From the dream I had been foolish enough to dream for four years of my life.

I tied off the braid and turned her back toward me, my breath catching for the briefest second. A smile curled up on my lips.

She looked so much like him.

It wasn’t just the eyes. Though those were the worst parts. It was the shape of her face, the stubborn set of her mouth, the way her nostrils flared when she was upset, the quiet intensity that sometimes flickered through her expressions.

She was the mirror of a man I had once loved more than myself.

Pain flickered through my chest, but it didn’t linger for too long because she wasn’t him.

She was mine. Entirely mine.

“You’re doing it again,” she said softly.

I blinked and smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “Just thinking about how beautiful you are.”

She beamed.

“I know.”

And there it was again. She said things like that as if she had lived with the man before.

That pulled a real laugh out of me because even when I told him every time about how handsome he looked, his answer was always the same as hers.

“Of course you do.”

I stood, smoothing down my blouse before grabbing my bag. “Lunch is in your backpack. Don’t trade it for snacks again.”

“I only traded once!”

“Twice.”

“Okay, twice.” She shrugged her shoulder, and I laughed. My little entrepreneur.

“And listen to your teacher.”

“I always listen.” She retorted, going to pick up her bag as well.

I gave her a look.

“Most of the time,” she amended. She gives me that sheepish smile that makes my heart melt, even if I’m mad at her.

“Good enough,” I said, taking her hand. “Let’s go.”

**

The drive to her daycare was short, and when I pulled over in the drop-off zone, she leaned in, and as per our routine, I turned to face her, and she kissed my cheek.

“Have a good day, Bunny,” I said to her, with a smile.

I got out of the car and then opened the door for her, waiting for her to come out, and she jumped out of the car, then she ran off with a wave and a bright “Bye, Mama!” that echoed in my chest long after she disappeared through the school doors.

I stood there for a moment, watching her back as her braids bounced and hit her back.

“No running,” I shouted, but she was already gone.

My chest tightened, tears filling my eyes. I took a deep breath in and then out. I was brought back to reality by the honking car behind me.

“Sorry,” I apologized to the person behind me before I got in the car and drove off.

**

“Good morning, Orana,” the receptionist greeted as I stepped inside.

“Morni, ng Ashley.”

My heels clicked against marble floors as I moved through the lobby, through the halls, into the elevator.

Head of Residential Development.

The title still felt like a dream most days, and I almost pinched myself several times at the thought that I was now heading a department.

Five years ago, I had nothing.

Nothing but a broken heart, a high-risk pregnancy, and a world that had turned its back on me.

I closed my eyes briefly as the elevator ascended, taking deep breaths. He had rejected us. Told me to ‘do it faster.’

I remembered that night when I gave birth to my baby. The suffocating terror of losing the one thing I had left.

I had called my father to ask for help. I was helpless and broke, with nothing but a bag of clothes and an apartment that leaked every time it rained.

“Please, Dad. I’m not asking…” I had whispered into the phone. “I need help.”

“You lost the right to ask me for anything the moment you ruined everything.” Then the line had gone dead before I could even tell him what kind of help I needed.

I had sat there, alone, clutching my stomach, convinced I was about to lose my baby, until a stranger had stepped in. He was like a knight in shining armor.

I exhaled slowly as the elevator doors opened.

Not a stranger anymore. He was the one person I trusted with my life.

“Good morning, Orana.”

I stepped into the conference room, already composed. “Good morning, everyone. Let’s begin.”

The team straightened, papers shifting, screens lighting up, and I took my seat at the head of the table, lighting up my tablet in front of me.

“Update me on the Walsh project.”

Voices filled the room, reports, numbers, projections. My eyes drifted over the entire table, and people were giving me their reports.

This was the part of my life I controlled. The part no one could take away from me.

“We’ll need final approval before moving forward,” Nehemiah, the head of finance, said, and I raised an eyebrow, because I thought that was already done.

“Schedule it,” I replied without hesitation.

A pause.

I sat back and blinked while my gaze was on him.

“There’s also the matter of the joint meeting next week.”

“With?”

A brief hesitation from my assistant slash best friend, Edward. “With Callahan Fitzgerald ”

The air left my lungs, my lips parting, and he knew my history with Callahan. That’s why he was hesitating.

My fingers tightened around my pen, my teeth grinding together. I always knew this would come one day, but never this soon.

“Orana?”

I schooled my features, my voice coming out steady. “Go on.”

“They’ve expanded into residential development and are looking to collaborate on the upcoming project,” Nehemiah added. “Has been in the works for some time now.”

Of course, I had no idea because if I knew, I would have made sure to shut down the idea faster than he could say idea.

My chest tightened, but I didn’t let it show. “And?”

“Well, you are on the list of attendees.”

Right. Of course, I was on the list of attendees; it was my project and team after all.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, staring at the tablet as if it had the answers I was looking for.

“I’ll attend,” I said.

Because I had built too much to run now, because I refused to be that broken girl again.

The meeting moved on, but I barely heard the rest, my mind drifting to one thought.

I was going back. To New York. To that man

Once the meeting was done, I made my way to my office, but my mind was all over the place.

“Orana.”

I turned at the sound of his voice. He stood by the doorway, his presence immediately commanding the room without effort.

Vaughn.

The man who had stepped into my life on the worst night of it, the man who had helped me rebuild when I had nothing left.

“Vaughn,” I acknowledged, a smile curling up on my lips briefly.  Trying to look busy because he was my boss after all.

His gaze lingered on me for a moment, sharp and searching.

“You handled that well,” he said.

“You know I always do.”

A faint smirk touched his lips. “That, you do.”

He pushed off the threshold and then stepped closer, lowering his voice slightly. “This trip won’t be simple.”

“I gathered that.”

His eyes searched mine, as if trying to see if I might crack. He narrowed his brown eyes at me, then he pulled a chair and settled down.

“Are you ready to face him?”

I held his gaze; my heart racing faster than it should. Vaughn was everything Callahan wasn’t. soft-spoken, with big brown eyes, tall and beautiful. I’m sure he wouldn’t want to know that I thought he was beautiful, but the man was beautiful.

“I’m not the woman I was five years ago.” I retorted, busying myself with my journal. I wasn’t that weak woman anymore.

There was a pause, then a quiet, almost approving nod.

“No,” he said. “You’re not.”

For a moment, something passed between us, something steady, grounding. He was everything I had hoped Callahan would be.

“I will see you around,” he pushed off the chair, grabbing some of the bubble gum I kept for him on my desk. His eyes briefly met mine, and there was an intensity in them that made my heart race.

‘He’s off-limits, Orana, ’  I reminded myself,  letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.