CHAPTER FOUR- The Return Of The Late Ex.

Adrian's POV

As the door opened, I looked up at my desk and there she was.

Amara Hart. The same woman I had spent hours with last night, but now there in professional clothes, calm and collected, was hardly the same as the drunk, desperate one I had seen a few hours ago.

  Yet I got the shock of her eyes when she recognized me. I was unable to resist the smirk that pulled at my lips, but I struggled to keep myself in check. Professional. Cool. That's exactly what I had to be.

Good morning, Miss Hart, said I in my smooth voice. "Congratulations on the job. I'm glad you could join us."

Her eyes were a little open, and I caught a glimpse of the waver of confusion and disbelief, but she nodded. She stood erect in a pose, spoke in a controlled voice. "Thank you, Mr. Adrian. I am glad to have a chance.

I pointed to the little area in my office that I had cleared out for her. I would like to recap on your duties. Your workspace is here. You can get everything you want, and I will be there to offer some advice.

She obeyed my order, nodding now and then. I watched her carefully. Her gestures were accurate, rehearsed. She would have preferred to conceal the shock, the discomfort, but I could read it in the slight shakiness of her hands in arranging her things. And that was the woman I knew--strong, controlled, but vulnerable all the same.

When she was settled, I went back to my desk. I could not help looking at her, pretending that I was working. The manner in which she moved, the slight inclination of her head when she was focused, the silent intensity of her eyes, were all hauntingly familiar. I went through it--the same spark, the same pull I had known years ago.

I had no time to think much about it when my best friend came in, waving a hand to her, and she waved back before he came to me and sat right in front of me.  “You are the craziest person I have ever seen, you know,” he said. “How all this happened, tell me.”

I didn't answer right away. I observed her for a couple of seconds as she fussed with her jacket, flattened her papers, and attempted to be professional, but I realized that she had millions of thoughts in her mind. Then I spoke. “I am happy I bumped into her at the club last night, I said. I was miserable as I got up this morning and found her gone. I did not know whether I would ever see her again.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You two spent the night together?”

"Yes," I said firmly.

He pressed himself against the chair and crossed his arms. “But you have told me that she has a different name on the company interview list. New name, another background... Why should you be certain that she is the one?”

I saw the list, I said, and tapped my pen against the desk. "I was shocked to see her there. She is a new person, but I recognize her. I feel her. There was something that occurred after the accident- something that made her alter everything about her. But I know it's her."

He shook his head. "You're insane. You can't just assume. What if she's not your ex? What will happen when she is another person altogether? I say we have look-alikes because we have a reason, what if she is some look-alike and the universe is just trying to interfere with your healing process?”

I sat up in my chair contemplating. "She is the one. I know it. It is her, even with a new name, even with a new life... The same energy, the same aura... I experienced it last night when I encountered her in the club. I was disappointed when I woke up and she was not there, and then I knew that she must have changed her life. She must have been pushed to hide something. She is my ex-man."

He frowned. "And if she's not? What happens then? You will  have broken hopes, Adrian.”

“I am not going to have broken hopes," I told him. "I'll end up with answers. I should know why she vanished, why she transformed her identity. I want to understand her. I want to protect her. That is why I wanted you to get into her life, to know all you can

He put his hands up in a fake surrender. "Fine. I'll see what I can find. But if you're wrong..."

"I won't be," I interrupted. “She had an accident some years ago, I  lost her... and I have been thinking of her all the time. She might have memory loss. She may not know who she is or who I am. I hope that she will remember when she sees me now.”

He looked at me one more time suspiciously and walked away, promising to begin digging.

I went back to my work, and I could not concentrate. I was constantly looking at her little worktable. She remained professional, busy, and composed, and I could tell the strain in her shoulders. She did not want to be influenced, but I knew that. I knew her.

Hours passed. I rushed through meetings, calls, and emails, yet I listened to whether she made any sound on her part.

She is the girl I fell in love with. This was a fact, and I could not overlook it.

Just as the sun was starting to set outside, and the golden streaks started pouring into my office, my phone buzzed. I took it and read the message attentively.

It was from my friend.

“She has a mother, and she is dying of cancer and is in dire need of a donor of bone marrow donor.”