003 — Home Again

Olivia's POV.

I got a cab that morning and drove straight to the Ashford’s residence.  

The city passed by in a blur of gray buildings and wet streets. My head still felt light, like it floated a little above my shoulders. My body carried a dull, deep ache from the night before. When the tall black gates of our home finally came into view, something inside my chest loosened.  

I got down from the car. The air suddenly shifted to my taste… so refreshing and home. Cool morning air touched my face. It smelled of damp grass, clean earth, and the faint sweetness of the white flowers that always grew near the entrance.  

“That’s more like it.”  

I sniffed the air, entering my house. The familiar scent of flowers, and the soft laundry soap Ms. Lin always used wrapped around me like a quiet welcome. The marble floor felt cool and smooth under my heels.  

“Ma’am, where have you been last night? Your husband was really worried.”  

My closest maid, one that’s like a mother and a friend to me, screamed in hushed tones, cutting through my mind. Her eyes were wide and red-rimmed. Her hands twisted the edge of her white apron until the cloth wrinkled tight. Worry lined every part of her face. A small tremor ran through her shoulders.  

“Wohh! … Why are you panicking?”  

I asked, stunned at the distressed look on her face.  

“I’m the one who just survived a near death experience?”  

I scoffed out, smiling softly. The smile felt thin and cracked on my lips.  

“Near death? What do you mean?”  

She blinked twice, shocked. Her mouth opened and closed once.  

“It’s work related,” I lied without batting an eye. “Let me get dressed for work now… I’m already late.”  

I chirped in really quick, not wanting to continue our conversation any further.  

I walked straight to my room. The soft carpet sank under my feet with each step. I closed the door, leaned against the cool wood for one second, then pushed myself forward. 

Off with my clothes. The torn, dirty dress from last night dropped to the floor with a soft, heavy sound. I stepped into the bathroom. Warm water ran over my skin, washing away the alley dirt, the fear, the memory of rough hands and cold concrete. Steam rose around me.

I dressed up real quick.  

A tailored cream blouse with soft silk that rested against my skin like a gentle touch. And a fitted black pencil skirt that sat neat on my hips and brushed the tops of my knees. Simple black heels and a pearl earrings that felt cool against my earlobes. A thin gold watch, together creating the kind of look that said nothing bad had ever touched me.  

I sat on my vanity table now, facing myself in the mirror as I applied some makeup. Foundation first, smooth and light, covering the dark circles under my eyes. A little color on my cheeks. Soft liner on my eyes. My hands moved on their own, but my mind went back to the earlier incidents of this morning.  

The black robe. The tattoos that snaked up the side of his neck. The way he had held my medical papers and smiled like my pain was funny.  

His voice still echoed on every damn thing he said. Cold. Amused.  

I shook my head, waving the slightest possibility of running into him again. I already crossed my mind about telling anyone about the incident. Not Victor. And if I were to tell Ms. Lin, he’ll definitely get it from her. One thing is for sure… If Victor were to find out about this, there’s a risk of him taking this the wrong way. He might misunderstand the whole thing. And I can’t just risk that. I can’t.  

“You’re back?”  

I raised my head up sharply as I heard his voice. My gaze caught his as he stood at the door.  

I cleared my throat, blinked hard as I fixed my expressions. I stood up, turning to look at him.  

He looked at me up to down really slow, curious, but still I was damn nervous since I was going to lie. I have to.  

His dark hair was messy. His white shirt was wrinkled, the top button still open. Dark circles sat heavy under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all.  

“I cancelled my own plans only to wait all night… Fuck, where were you at?”  

His voice was low, yet so tight it scraped against the quiet room.  

“Due to the Elite gala coming up, I had to hold a planning retreat—”  

“Retreat—”  

He laughed, shutting me up. The sound held no real humor. It was short and sharp.  

“For some reason, I just couldn’t get hold of you all night… you didn’t answer my call or reply my text… Tell me something, Olivia.”  

He smirked sharp, walking towards me. From his looks, I can tell he’s already suspecting me. Even though nothing happened, I did spend my night at a man’s place. I shouldn’t be this nervous if I want him to believe me. Still, I am and he’s seeing that. He's using that.

My palms felt damp. My heart beating hard against my ribs.  

“I — I’m…”  

I stuttered. My throat felt tight and dry.  

“Are you seeing someone?”  

He dropped the question that I thought he never would., his voice low but firm.

“Victor Ashford—”  

I closed the little gap between us, looking at him in dismay, my mouth open in disbelief of how low he just thought I am..

“Of course, you wouldn’t do that.”  

He paced, looking away, breathing hard. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. The air in the room felt heavy, thick with things unsaid.  

My chest ached so bad. I couldn’t hold it anymore. The weight of the empty place inside me pressed too hard.  

“Is that all you think of me, Victor?" I said , my voice shaky as I pulled myself together.

"Victor, I just lost my child!!”  

I screamed, tears already dripped from my eyes. hot and sudden.  

“What—”  

He looked at me now, much calmer. His face changed in a swift second... The suspicion melted into something softer, something scared.  

“Yesterday, I started bleeding, then went to the hospital… I’ve been lost since yesterday but I’ve been trying to pull myself together. I…”  

I bit my lips hard. The taste of blood touched my tongue. Tears fell uncontrollably. Hot streams ran down my cheeks and dripped off my chin onto my blouse. My shoulders shook. My breath came in broken gasps that hurt my throat.  

I grabbed his hand. His palm was warm and slightly rough. I placed it on my stomach. The flat emptiness there felt colder under his touch.  

“Our baby isn’t here anymore and it hurts—”  

He hugged me tight. His arms wrapped around me like he was trying to hold the pieces together. His chest was solid and warm against my face. I could hear his heartbeat, fast and heavy, under my ear. The scent of his skin and the faint trace of his cologne mixed with the salt of my tears.  

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, my love.”  

He said, stroking my back, so soothing but still not enough to heal the emptiness in me. His hand moved slow and steady between my shoulder blades.  

My fingers clutched the back of his wrinkled shirt. I cried harder. Ugly, raw sounds tore out of my throat. Tears soaked into his shirt until the cloth stuck to my cheek. My whole body trembled against him. The pain in my chest felt endless, sharp and deep. The quiet room filled with the sound of my broken sobs.  

“It hurts.”