Chapter 4

 A PHONE CALL

They arrived almost at the same time — though their mornings had clearly begun differently.

Helen stepped out of the taxi, checking the time on her wristwatch. She tucked a loose strand of hair neatly behind her ear and hurried toward the glass entrance of Cole Designs, her heels clicking softly against the pavement.

Just then, the low purr of engines drew her attention.

Two luxury cars pulled up in sequence — a black sedan first, followed by a dark grey SUV. Both stopped precisely near the entrance. The drivers stepped out immediately. One walked around and opened the rear door of the sedan.

Cole stepped out, composed as always, adjusting the sleeve of his suit. The second driver remained near the SUV, waiting, likely prepared for the rest of the day’s schedule.

Helen slowed slightly out of courtesy.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Morning, Helen.”

They walked toward the entrance together. The security staff straightened subtly as he passed. Helen matched his pace, though she remained half a step behind out of habit.

“Busy morning already?” he asked, glancing briefly at her.

“I reviewed the Henderson notes again before leaving home,” she replied. “Just in case.”

“Good,” he said. “We might need them.”

They reached the elevator just as the doors opened. A few employees inside greeted him and quickly stepped out to give space. Helen entered after him.

The doors slid shut.

He caught the scent first — her perfume. Soft, warm, faintly floral. Not overpowering, but distinct enough to linger. He shifted slightly, trying not to make it obvious.

“Did you change something?” he asked casually.

She looked up. “My perfume?”

He nodded.

“My mother insisted I try it,” she said with a small smile. “She said I always choose the same one.”

“It’s… different,” he replied.

“Is that good or bad?”

He hesitated for a second. “Good.”

The elevator slowed briefly between floors. The slight jerk made her lean back a little. His hand moved instinctively toward the railing behind her — close, but not touching. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

He withdrew his hand. “Just in case.”

The doors opened.

They stepped out.

Minutes later, “Helen.”

“Yes, sir.”

She entered his office, notebook ready.

“The Henderson files. The investors moved the meeting to this afternoon.”

Her brows drew together. “This afternoon?”

“Yes. They want an earlier review.”

“The graphics team still has the revisions,” she replied. “They promised them this morning.”

“Well, they haven’t delivered.”

She paused, then said calmly, “I’ll go check personally.”

He nodded, but as she turned, he added, “And make sure they prioritize it.”

She stopped briefly. “They already are.”

Then she left.

He exhaled slowly, realizing he had pushed too hard.

When she returned with the files, she placed them carefully on his desk.

“They finished earlier than expected.”

He looked genuinely surprised. “You carried all of these yourself?”

“They were still being sorted. It was faster this way.”

“You should delegate.”

“I do… when needed.”

Her tone was calm. 

He opened one file. “You rearranged the slide order.”

“Yes,” she said. “Cost projections first. It might keep them engaged.”

He looked up. “You made that decision on your own?”

She held his gaze. “If you prefer, I can revert it.”

“No… show me.”

She stepped closer, leaning slightly to point at the screen. As she explained, her hair slipped forward again. This time she tucked it behind her own ear quickly, avoiding another awkward moment.

“You don’t have to be so careful,” he said quietly.

She looked at him. “I’m not.”

But her voice softened slightly.

In the meeting room, the tension had shifted into silent coordination.

Cole stood presenting. Helen managed the documents, timing, and slides.

Halfway through, one of the investors asked for a printed comparison chart that wasn’t immediately visible.

Helen moved quickly to retrieve it from the folder behind him. The space between the podium and the chair was narrow. As she reached across, her heel caught slightly on the carpet edge.

Her balance faltered.

Cole reacted instantly — grabbing her, but placing his hand firmly on the back of the chair to block her from stumbling forward. At the same time, he shifted his body slightly closer, creating a barrier so her movement stayed unnoticed.

She steadied herself, their shoulders nearly aligned.

“Got it,” she whispered, handing him the chart.

“Thank you,” he replied smoothly, continuing his explanation to the investors without breaking flow.

He had been watching her closely enough to react before anyone else noticed.

Later, another investor requested clarification on figures. Helen stepped forward quietly and slid a note beside his laptop — not interrupting him, just placing it where he could see.

He glanced down.

Their fingers touch — but she didn’t pull away immediately either. She waited until he read it.

He nodded slightly and incorporated the correction.

A silent partnership.

After the meeting, as the room emptied, he spoke first.

“You anticipated that last question.”

“You mentioned it yesterday,” she replied.

“I didn’t expect you to remember every detail.”

“It’s my job.”

He leaned against the table. “You seem calmer under pressure than I am.”

“You weren’t calm this morning,” she said gently.

He gave a faint smile. “You noticed.”

“You snapped.”

“I did.”

She folded her hands. “It’s alright.”

“No,” he said. “It wasn’t.”

Before either could say more, his phone rang.

The sound cut through the quiet room.

He glanced at the screen.

The calm in his face tightened. His jaw set. The warmth from moments earlier disappeared, replaced by something unreadable.

He answered.

“Yes.”

He listened.

Helen watched silently.

His posture stiffened further.

“I understand,” he said flatly.

A pause.

“No. I’ll handle it.”

He ended the call.

For a few minutes, he didn’t move.

Then he picked up the files abruptly. “Reschedule the afternoon review.”

Helen blinked. “Sir?”

“I’ll be in my office.”

His tone was distant now — controlled, colder than before.

He walked out without another word.

Helen remained in the conference room, confused by the sudden shift.

Outside, Cole walked down the corridor, his expression unreadable.

Whatever he had heard on that call… it had changed his mood completely.

And it would shape the rest of the day — though no one yet knew why.

Outside, Cole walked down the corridor, his stride noticeably different from before.

The sound of his shoes echoed against the polished floor, drawing a few curious glances from employees who quickly looked back at their desks.

His jaw was tight.

He loosened his tie slightly, something he rarely did inside the office. One hand slid into his pocket while the other held his phone firmly, his fingers tightening around it as if resisting the urge to call back.

A junior staff member approached him cautiously.

“Sir, the procurement—”

“Later,” Cole said without stopping.

The employee froze mid-sentence as he passed.

He reached his office, pushed the door open more forcefully than necessary, and stepped inside. The door closed with a quiet but firm click behind him.

Through the glass wall, Helen could see him.

He didn’t sit immediately.

Instead, he walked straight to the window, standing with his back to the room. One hand rested on his hip while the other rubbed the bridge of his nose. He exhaled slowly, then pulled out his phone again, staring at the screen without dialing.

He looked… unsettled.

But something was weighing on him.

After a moment, he finally sat down, opened a file, then closed it again almost immediately. His attention wasn’t there. He leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen once, twice, then dropping it on the desk.

Outside, Helen hesitated before knocking lightly.

“Come in.”

She stepped inside. “You asked me to reschedule the review. Should I move it to tomorrow morning?”

He nodded, not looking up. “Yes.”

She stood there for a second. “Is everything alright?”

He paused, then finally looked at her.

The earlier warmth in his eyes was gone, replaced by distance.

“Yes. Just proceed with the schedule.”

She nodded slowly. “Alright, sir.”

As she turned to leave, he added, “Cancel my afternoon appointments.”

“All of them?”

“Yes.”

She wrote it down quietly.

The office, usually filled with his movement and instructions, felt unusually quiet. Cole remained in his office most of the time. Occasionally, he made short phone calls — brief, controlled, low-voiced.

Helen continued her work, in silence. 

When she brought him documents, he thanked her politely but without the small conversations they had earlier. When she updated him on emails, he simply nodded.

By early evening, the office began to empty.

Employees packed up, lights dimmed gradually, and the hum of the day softened into quiet.

Helen finished organizing the last set of files and glanced toward his office. The light was still on.

She knocked gently.

“Yes?”

“Most of the staff have left, sir.”

He looked up, slightly surprised. “Already?”

“Yes. Do you need anything else?”

He glanced at his watch, then shook his head. “No… you can go.”

She hesitated. “You too, sir. It’s been a long day.”

A faint expression crossed his face — almost a smile, but it didn’t fully form.

“I’ll leave shortly.”

She nodded and picked up her bag.

As she walked out, she looked back once. He was already staring at something on his phone again, his expression thoughtful, distant.

Outside, the building grew quieter.

Cole remained seated for a long moment after she left. Then he stood, grabbed his jacket, and walked out of his office. The corridor lights were dimmed now, reflecting softly on the floor.

He passed Helen’s empty desk.

He slowed slightly.

Her notebook was neatly stacked, pen aligned beside it. Everything organized — just like her.

He exhaled quietly, then continued walking.

Outside the building, the evening air was cooler. The same two cars waited. The driver opened the door.

Cole paused before getting in, looking up briefly at the building windows.

Then he stepped into the car.

The door closed.

The car pulled away slowly, merging into the city traffic.

Inside, he leaned back against the seat, loosening his tie again. His phone buzzed once more in his hand.

He looked at the screen.

His expression hardened again.

He didn’t answer.

The city lights passed across his face as the car drove on — and the weight of the unanswered call followed him into the night.

The car moved steadily through the evening traffic.

Cole leaned back against the leather seat, his gaze fixed on the city lights flashing past the window. The glow of streetlamps cut across his face in intervals — light, shadow, light again — each shift revealing the tension still set in his jaw.

His phone buzzed once more.

He didn’t pick it up immediately.

Instead, he turned it over in his hand, thumb hovering over the screen. The driver glanced briefly at him through the rearview mirror, sensing the silence but saying nothing.

Finally, Cole answered.

“Yes.”

He listened.

His posture stiffened slightly.

“No,” he said after a moment. “Not tonight.”

A pause again. 

His eyes narrowed. “I said not tonight.”

He ended the call abruptly and dropped the phone onto the seat beside him. His hand ran over his face slowly, as if trying to push away the weight of the conversation.

“Sir?” the driver asked carefully. “Home?”

Cole hesitated.

He almost gave another instruction.

Then he nodded. “Yes. Home.”

The car turned toward the quieter residential road.

Back at the office, Helen stepped out of the building, adjusting her pace as she walked toward the roadside. The evening air had cooled, and the noise of the day had faded into scattered conversations and distant traffic.

She replayed the day in her mind.

The elevator. 

The meeting.

His sudden change.

She frowned slightly.

It wasn’t just stress. Something had clearly happened. And whatever it was, it had closed him off completely.

A taxi slowed beside her. She got in and gave her address, then leaned her head lightly against the seat, staring out at the passing lights.

Cole arrived home later than usual.

The gate opened automatically. The car rolled into the driveway and stopped. The driver stepped out and opened the door.

Cole got out slowly.

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

Inside, he loosened his tie completely and tossed it onto the side table. He walked into the living room, then stopped halfway, as if he had forgotten why he came in.

He picked up his phone again.

The screen lit up.

A message.

He read it.

He walked toward the window, staring out into the dark garden. One hand rested on the glass, his reflection staring back at him.

After a long moment, he typed a short reply.

Then he stopped.

Deleted it.

Locked the phone.

He exhaled slowly.

He walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge, stared inside… then closed it without taking anything.

He wasn’t hungry.

He poured himself a glass of water instead, took a sip, then left it half-full on the counter.

In the bedroom, he changed into a simple shirt and trousers. He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, phone in his hand.

The screen lit up.

No new message.

He placed it beside him and lay back, staring at the ceiling.

Minutes passed.

He turned to one side.

Then the other.

The sheets rustled.

He closed his eyes — opened them again.

His hand reached for the phone. He checked the time.

10:42 PM.

Too early to still feel this restless.

He sat up again, ran a hand through his hair, then stood and walked to the window. The garden outside was dimly lit. He stood there for a long moment, arms folded.

The phone buzzed.

He looked at it immediately.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he placed it face down on the table and walked back to the bed. He lay down again, one arm over his forehead.

His mind replayed the day — the meeting, her calm voice, the faint scent in the elevator, her steady presence beside him.

He exhaled sharply, as if annoyed at himself.

He turned again.

Midnight.

He checked the clock.

12:17 AM.

Still awake.

He got up, walked to the living room, and switched on a small lamp. He picked up a file from his briefcase, opened it, read the first page… then realized he hadn’t absorbed a single word.

He closed it.

Set it aside.

He leaned back on the sofa, head resting against the cushion, eyes closed — but sleep didn’t come.

His phone buzzed again.

This time he picked it up..

He stared at the screen.

His jaw tightened.

He pressed the power button, silencing it, and placed it back down.

1:36 AM.

He finally stretched out on the sofa, one arm draped over his eyes.

For a brief moment, his breathing slowed.

Then a passing car outside flashed light through the window, and his eyes opened again.

He sighed quietly.

By the time the first faint hint of dawn crept through the curtains, he hadn’t really slept.

He was still on the sofa, now sitting upright, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing in particular. The sky outside shifted from deep blue to pale grey.

Birds began to chirp faintly.

He checked the time.

5:52 AM.

He rubbed his face slowly, fatigue finally visible in his expression. He stood, walked to the kitchen, and poured another glass of water. 

This time he finished it.

He didn’t bother going back to bed.

Instead, he showered, dressed earlier than usual, movements quiet and mechanical. 

His tie took two attempts to sit perfectly — another small sign of his restless night.

He picked up his phone.

Still no new message.

He slipped it into his pocket and left. 

The next morning began earlier than usual.

Cole arrived at the office before most of the staff. Only a few lights were on. He walked straight to his office without stopping, his expression already set.

When Helen arrived minutes later, she noticed immediately.

His car was already parked.

She paused slightly before entering, then walked to her desk. She organized the morning schedule, but her eyes kept drifting toward his closed door.

He hadn’t called her yet.

Unusual.

After ten minutes, the door finally opened.

“Helen.”

“Yes, sir.”

She stepped in.

He was already seated, reviewing documents. No glance up immediately.

“The Henderson follow-up. Send the revised proposal to the investors.”

“Already drafted,” she replied, placing the file in front of him.

He looked up briefly, then nodded. “Good.”

She hesitated. “You cancelled yesterday’s appointments. Should I reschedule them?”

“Yes. Spread them across the week.”

She wrote it down.

As she turned to leave, he spoke again.

“And Helen…”

She stopped.

“Yes, sir?”

He seemed about to say something else.

But instead, he shook his head slightly. 

“Nothing.”

She nodded and left.

Outside, she sat down slowly, sensing the distance more clearly now.

Inside, Cole leaned back in his chair, staring at the closed door she had just walked through.

He picked up his phone again.

The same contact name is still on the screen.

This time, he didn’t ignore it.

He pressed the call.

The phone rang.

And as it did… his expression hardened, as if preparing for something unavoidable.

The line connected.

“Hello,” he said quietly.

Whatever he heard on the other end made his eyes darken — and the day ahead suddenly felt far more complicated than either of them expected.