Chapter 2: The Ghosts in The Conference Room

The conference room blurred around the edges. Blood rushing behind my eyes distorted my view. I told myself it wasn’t real. Perhaps the lack of sleep had gotten to me. Perhaps I was crazy.  But there he was.

Zane Blackwood stood by the table, his back partially turned away from the door. He was taller than I remembered. Sharper. Colder. His hair was even darker, nearly black instead of dark brown. His suit molded perfectly to his frame. He wore black on black with no tie. Zane never cared what anyone thought. Not about his dressing, not about his tastes, not about him. He commanded the room, the kind of presence that was to be helming empires, not haunting my present and past.

Zane turned, and I stopped breathing.

Five years hadn’t softened him, hadn’t dulled him. His face was more chiseled now, mouth flatter. And his eyes, God, those dark eyes! His gaze swept across the room. He took in Leah first. Then Mr. Wade. Finally, he looked at me. My heart thrummed in my chest. I stared right back at him, bracing myself for a flicker of recognition. Shock. Surprise. Anger. Anything.

Nothing.

He looked through me like I was invisible.

I stood, frozen. I couldn’t make my legs move. The last time we had seen was five years ago, when I destroyed everything. And for years, I had dreaded our reunion. Would he allow me to explain? Apologize? Does he still hate me? In my hearts of hearts, I wanted to meet with him again, but not like this. Not when he was to marry someone else. Not me being the planner.

I would’ve preferred a reaction from him. A sign that this man who once loved me hadn’t blotted me out completely from his memory. This impassiveness… it hurt more than anything.

Mr. Wade stepped forward. “Mr. Blackwood,” he greeted. “Glad you could make time in your schedule.”

Zane gave him a short nod. “Let’s make it quick. I’m only here because the bride insisted.”

My mouth felt sour. “You're the groom?”

He didn’t flinch. “Surprise. Is there a problem with that Ms. Ibe? Or do you usually greet your clients like they are suspects in a felony case?”

His voice, God, his voice! Deep, low, slightly rough.

I took a step back. “My apologies.”

The room was silent for a while.

Mr. Wade cleared his throat. He gestured towards me. “This is Miss Amara Ibe, our lead consultant and wedding planner for the Blackwood-Voss wedding.”

Zane gave a single nod. “Ms. Ibe.”

I stepped forward. “Yes, I’m Amara Ibe.”

Zane extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you. I hope we get along.”

That hurt. It was as if I was a stranger. As if we had never been lovers in the past. As if I didn’t know his body as well as he did mine. As if our morning breaths had never mingled days on end. As if I wasn’t the only woman that mattered to him. As if we never ruined each other.

I didn’t take his hand. I couldn’t.

His lips twitched. Then he lowered his hand and began flipping through a portfolio.

“This is the final venue list, I assume?”

“Yes, it is,” I reply. The words tasted like granite.

“Good.”

Mr. Wade cleared his throat. “Shall we begin the interview?”

My legs ached under the weight of memories I couldn’t voice, so I pulled out a chair and sat. Mr. Wade began with clipped questions. Experience? References? NDAs? I answered on autopilot. But my eyes kept shifting to Zane. He was silent at the window, arms crossed.

He hadn’t forgotten me. I’m sure. He was just pretending. Why? And why hire me to be the planner?

Leah’s fingers brushed over mine. I didn’t even remember that she was with me, barely noticed that she had sat down too. She was composed, back straight, scribbling in her jotter, but her touch reminded me to breathe

“Do you know each other?” Mr. Wade asked.

I opened my mouth.

“No,” Zane said. “But I heard she’s the best in the game. And Sera specifically wanted her.”

My stomach clenched. Was this a joke? Was this really how we were playing it?

Leah cleared her throat. “We’ve reviewed a lot of the packages and timelines. So we could begin scheduling design walkthroughs next week.”

“For today,” I said, forcing myself to speak, “we’ve prepared a walkthrough of the main garden and reception areas. The bride hasn’t arrived yet?”

Zane shook his head. “She’s a bit… occupied. Sera is a private woman. Let’s do the walkthrough another day.”

“Perfect,” Mr. Wade said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with legal.”

Mr. Wade stepped out the room, leaving just the three of us. The silence in the room is pronounced, tension so thick a knife could cut through.

Leah stood up abruptly and gathered her stuff. “I’ll give you two a moment,” she said, aiming a meaningful look at me. She exited the room soon after, the door clicking shut behind her.

Silence. And an opportunity to think.

I had heard rumors about Zane. An accident after the scandal. Memory loss. Doesn’t Rembert anything from his past. I dismissed all of them as rumors, ignored any information about him for self-preservation… until now. It all seemed fabricated though, yet it was easier on my heart to believe that he truly didn’t remember me rather than him pretending not to remember me.

We were standing face to face in the same room, wedding planner to groom, ex-lover to ex-lover, reunited in one of the most insane, unexpected ways ever. I wanted to say something, to scream. Yet the words couldn’t form. So I kept silent and stared at him. He stared back at me, posture relaxed, arms still across his chest. His eyes were empty. I wanted him to speak first, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to unless I did.

So I spoke up.