Chapter Seven

try to work.

I really do.

But the words on the screen blur together, refusing to make sense no matter how many times I

read them.

I scroll back up.

Read the same paragraph again.

And again.

Nothing.

A quiet frustration builds in my chest. I’ve been on this same page for almost thirty minutes now.

Focus, Anastasia.

I straighten in my chair, forcing myself to concentrate. There’s too much at stake for me to be

distracted by a man.

A client.

A stranger.

My jaw tightens.

He’s a stranger.

So why—

“Sia.

”

My grip tightens on the mouse.

I haven’t heard that name in years.

Not since—

I stop the thought before it can finish.

No.

I’m not doing this.

I shake my head, like I can physically rid myself of the memories, and force my attention back to

the screen.

Useless.

“It’s your favourite.

”

My jaw clenches.

Of course he remembers.

Like he didn’t disappear without a word.

Like he didn’t just… vanish.

A sharp breath escapes me as I push my chair back slightly.

“Ma’am?”

I look up.

Felicia stands at the door, watching me carefully.

“Yes?”

“Are you alright? You’ve been quiet all afternoon.

”

“I’m fine,

” I say quickly. Too quickly.

“Just tired.

”

She doesn’t look convinced, but she nods anyway.

“Alright, ma’am.

”

The door closes.

Silence.

I lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling.

And this time—

I don’t stop it.

The memory comes.

Clearer now.

A younger me, trailing behind him like I always did.

Laughing. Talking. Trying to keep up.

“Sia, go back home.

”

“I don’t want to.

”

“You’re annoying.

”

“You like me.

”

A pause.

Then—

A faint smile I pretended not to notice.

My chest tightens.

I sit up abruptly.

No.

I’m not doing this.

Because people who care don’t just disappear.

People who care don’t leave you wondering what you did wrong.

I shut my laptop with more force than necessary. The sound echoes in the quiet office.

I grab my bag and leave before I can think too much about it.

The drive home is a blur.

Traffic lights. Honking cars. People crossing the road.

None of it registers.

All I see—

Are his eyes.

That same look.

Like nothing ever changed.

Like he has the right to walk back into my life and call me that.

Sia.

My grip tightens on the steering wheel.

The nerve of him.

By the time I get home, my irritation has settled into something sharper.

Colder.

Emily isn’t home. Thank goodness she gave me her spare key.

I drop my bag, take a quick shower, then grab something from the fridge and heat it up. Routine.

Something normal.

I carry my plate to the sitting room.

Distraction.

That’s what I need.

I settle on a random rom-com, letting it play in the background.

It doesn’t work.

Because my mind drifts anyway.

Alexander teaching me how to ride a bicycle.

“Don’t let go!”

“I won’t.

”

A lie.

Alexander teaching me how to fly a kite.

Alexander standing in front of my bullies, his voice low and dangerous.

Alexander doing my homework while I watched, pretending I understood everything.

“Anna?”

I jolt.

Emily stands in the doorway, staring at me, slightly bewildered.

“You didn’t hear me come in?”

I shake my head.

She steps closer.

“Okay… what happened to you?”

I frown.

“Nothing happened.

”

She folds her arms, unconvinced.

“You look like you just saw a ghost.

”

I let out a short breath.

“You could say that”

Her eyes light up immediately.

“A man?”

I shoot her a look.

She gasps, stepping closer.

“Oh my God, it is a man. I knew it.

”

“Emily—

”

“Wait,

” she cuts in, narrowing her eyes.

“Is this about the hot stranger from the club?”

I pause.

That’s all the confirmation she needs.

“Ohhh, it is,

” she drags out, grinning.

“What happened? Did you see him again?”

“Yes,

” I cut in.

“I saw him.

”

Her grin widens.

“And?”

“And nothing,

” I say, turning my gaze back to the TV.

“He’s a client. That’s it.

”

“Oh my God,

” she says, rushing to sit beside me.

was hot.

”

“Then why do you look angry? I thought he

“He is.

”

“Then why do you look like you want to fight him?”

“Because I do.

”

She pauses.

“

…Okay, I need the full story.

”

I press my fingers to my temple.

“Mm-hmm,

” she hums.

“He’s just a client.

”

“And I’m the Queen of England.

”

I glance at her.

“No,

” I say quietly.

“I’m mad because I know him.

”

That shuts her up.

“What do you mean… you know him?” she asks slowly.

I exhale.

“He’s Alexander Sterling.

”

“Okay…?” she says, confused.

“As in Xander.

”

Her eyes widen.

“The Xander?”

I nod.

“The one you were always talking about and crying about during sleepovers?”

“Thanks Emily for the reminder” I say glaring at her, she gives me a sheepish smile.

She leans back slightly.

“Wow.

”

“Don’t,

” I mutter.

“I’m not,

” she says quickly.

“I’m just… connecting things.

”

I look away.

“He invited me to lunch,

”

“Ouuu”

“With cheesecake.

” I add

“He’s bold.

”

“He’s delusional,

” I say flatly.

“He clearly remembers things about you.

”

“Well, I don’t remember anything,

” I retort.

Her eyes flicker to mine.

“Then why do you look like this?” she asks gently.

I look away.

Because I don’t have a simple answer.

Because anger is easier than everything else sitting underneath it.

I lean back, staring at the ceiling.

Because the truth is—

I do remember.

Everything.

The way I followed him around.

The way I waited for him.

Even after he vanished when I needed him most.

My jaw tightens.

And now he’s back.

Looking at me like nothing changed.

Like he didn’t leave me behind.

I close my eyes briefly.

“This time,

” I murmur,

“I’m not the one chasing.

”

Emily is quiet for a moment.

“You could have asked him why he disappeared,

” she says softly.

I let out a small, humorless laugh.

“There’s nothing he could say that would make me forgive him.

”

Emily doesn’t respond.

But I can feel her glance in my direction.

Thoughtful.

Like she’s not entirely convinced this story is as simple as I’m making it.

And for some reason—

That unsettles me more than anything else.

Because for the first time, I start to wonder if I’m the one missing something.