Sober Morning

The ride to work was a quiet one. Patrick glanced at the rear view mirror, stealing glancing at Damon. He's never seen his boss this quiet, lost even.

It's been a week since that explosion and the police were no good at finding any proof that Jack did it. How could they? He basically left no trace of himself in this.

Patrick signed, if only Naomi could put her emotions aside and see what all this was about. And if only Damon would just tell her the truth. It would be agonising. Painful maybe but it's needed.

Patrick pulled over at the parking lot and soon, he and Damon were walking past the reception to the executive floor.

He had other businesses, other ventures that he hadn't stepped a foot into in weeks but he kept coming to this architectural firm. He might call it work but Patrick could see it for what he was.

Damon stood in front of the elevator, one hand buried in his pocket, the other holding a folder he hadn’t opened once since stepping into the building. Patrick stood slightly behind him, reading through the morning briefing.

“Sir, the board meeting with the Zurich partners has been pushed to three p.m.,” Patrick was saying, eyes flicking over his tablet. “Also, the legal department finalized the contract with…”

He stopped.

Damon wasn’t listening. His posture was still as marble, but his gaze was fixed several meters to his right, on the glass doors leading to the reception area.

Patrick followed his eyes and froze too. That was certainly unexpected.

Naomi had just stepped through the door.

She looked different. Her hair dyed black and the air around her seemed heavier. Her hair was tied up neatly, and she wore a muted gray suit with an ivory blouse.

But her eyes were the same. Deep, brown, and tired in ways no one could quite see unless they looked closely.

Damon looked closely and that single glance felt like being punched in the chest.

Patrick sighed, his boss had been throwing himself into work since she left, requesting hourly briefings of her safety. Seeing her now, right in front if him….

Naomi walked briskly toward the elevators, a stack of files in her hand. Every step she took was graceful, measured, as though she’d rehearsed the act of holding herself together. When she stopped beside Damon, she didn’t stare at him too long. Like he didn't even exist..

On a different day, he'd have loved that and fought for her attention. But right now, he knew it wasn't a game.

She simply inclined her head.

“Good morning, Mr. Sinclair.”

Her voice was professional, like a subordinate greeting her superior.

Patrick went still.

Damon didn’t respond immediately; he was too busy studying her face, the faint bruise near her temple, almost gone now, the small tremor in her fingers when she pressed the elevator button.

He wanted to say something. Anything. But his voice caught in his throat.

Patrick cleared his throat awkwardly. “Good morning, Ms Naomi.”

She smiles, bowing her head. “Good morning, Mr Patrick.”

Damon didn’t reply neither could he take his eyes off her.

Patrick hesitated, then glanced at the elevator screen. The arrow blinked. Level 12. Level 11. Level 10…

When the elevator finally dinged open, both Damon and Naomi stepped inside.

Patrick took a step back, his hands crossed on the tablet in front of him.

“I have a few things to sort out at the front desk.” He said, with a small smile.

Those two need to talk. They need to figure this out and come to a resolution or Jack will use their distance to his advantage.

“Good morning, Mr Patrick, “ Tita greeted as she made her way towards the elevator.

Patrick reached out and caught her wrist gently.

“Not this one, Ms Tita,” he said under his breath.

She frowned. “What do you mean? There’s space…”

Patrick smiled faintly, the kind of smile that said he wasn’t asking. “It’s full.”

Her brows furrowed. “But I can clearly see….”

He tugged her lightly back, just as the elevator doors began to close. “I said it's full.”

The doors slid shut with a soft ding, sealing Damon and Naomi inside, alone.

“Why did you say it was full? I saw just two people there!” Tita snapped. Now she had to use the stairs or she would be late!

Patrick released her arm. “I think you need to go check your eyes, Ms Tita.” Patrick smiled and walked away, leaving Tita further stunned.

Why does everything have to be a battle of insults with this man? What has she ever done wrong?!

♤

The air inside the elevator was heavy, suffocating even.

Naomi stood on the far end, facing the door, eyes fixed on the glowing floor numbers as they changed slowly.

5… 6… 7…

Damon shifted slightly, his voice low. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm fine, Mr Sinclair. Thanks for asking. Trust your day has been going well.”

Damon sighed, “Please don't do that. Please…” he muttered.

Naomi's smile remained in place. “Do what, Mr Sinclair?”

“Naomi…”

“Don’t,” she said quietly.

He froze.

Her tone wasn’t sharp or emotional. It was calm. The kind of tone that said no matter what you say, it won’t change anything.

“Just let me explain,” Damon tried again, stepping closer. “You’ve misunderstood. About the files, about your father’s estate…”

Her jaw tightened. “I said don’t.”

He stopped inches away from her, searching her face.

The scent of her perfume, light and familiar, hit him like a memory. Their nights together, her laughter, the quiet moments before dawn when she’d fall asleep against his shoulder… all of it felt like fragments of a life he’d lost overnight.

“Naomi,” he said again, softer this time. “I never meant for things to…”

She leaned away as he reached out, his hand stopping midair, the motion awkward and painful. Her gaze didn’t move from the elevator door.

“Don’t touch me.”

The words sliced through him.

He dropped his hand slowly, his throat tight.

“You're my boss and you should act accordingly.”

The sheer irony of her words. It's been difficult. Staying at Soonie’s place. Knowing Jack knew exactly where she was and if he wanted to attack her, he could right there and then.

She had to leave the house and the only place she could think of, that she knew she was safe, was right next to Damon.

Yet here she was, stepping away from him even when she needed him to touch her desperately. To hold her, and tell her they would figure it out together.

“I can't. I can't act like your boss, Naomi. Not when everything has turned out this way…”

The elevator finally stopped, Naomi stepped forward as soon as the doors opened. But Damon wasn’t ready to let her walk away.

“Naomi, please…”

She didn’t answer. She just walked out, heels clicking against the marble.

Damon followed, the desperation in his stride barely contained.

The hallway was empty, save for the muted hum of air conditioning and the distant buzz of telephones from the nearby offices.

Naomi’s steps quickened, but Damon caught up in two long strides, his hand brushing against her wrist before she could turn the corner.

“Don’t walk away from me.”

She turned to him, eyes flashing with quiet fury. “Walk away? Damon, that’s all I’ve been doing since I met you! Running, pretending, trying to survive the mess you made of my life.”

Her voice trembled, but she didn’t back down.

“I know. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I promise. Just please….lets talk this out.”

“You don't have to make up for anything. And we have absolutely nothing to talk about. I know all there is to know..”

“No.”

He stepped closer, bracing one hand against the wall beside her head, trapping her there without touching her. The space between them felt charged, too close, too intimate.

“Naomi,” he said quietly, “I was trying to protect you. Everything I did. Everything Aaron did, it was for you.”

She met his gaze with ice. “You don’t get to define what protection looks like. You lied to me. You took what belonged to me and called it safety.”

“Yes I did! It's true but Aaron…”

“Would have wanted me to know the truth,” she cut in sharply. “You didn’t protect me, Damon. You stole from me. How could you?.”

He flinched, just slightly. But she caught it. “Don't say that..”

“And all that talk about caring? You did it because you know I was a virgin didn't you?”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“You wanted to be my first, didn't you? After stealing from me, ruining my life, you just didn't have enough uh?”

“Enough.” He said in a low voice, his eyes darkened. How could she make a mockery of something they shared?

“ You can accuse me of anything but that. And you know it.”

“Or it was all an act. I learnt you were like a son to my father? Is this how you treat family, Damon?”

“Naomi, just listen to me!” He snapped.

She tossed the envelope she had in her hand on his face. “Don't ever yell at me. Ever!”

Damon swallowed, “I’m sorry.”

“Sign it.”

Damon stared at the papers. He didn’t need to look twice to know what they were.

“Divorce papers,” Naomi said quietly. “I’ve already signed them. All that’s left is your signature.”

He stared at her, his face blank, but his heart pounding hard enough to hurt.

“You can’t mean this,” he said hoarsely.

Her eyes didn’t waver. “I do.”

He reached out, taking the papers as though afraid they might burn him.

“I'm not signing this..” he frowned.

“Why? You're going to lose everything you have that's in my father's name right?”

“No, that's not what I meant..”

She stepped back. “ Sign the damned papers Damon.”

“Naomi…” he whispered.

She shoved past him before he could say anything else. “We’re done.”

He turned to follow, but she was already walking down the hallway, her figure retreating into her office.

The papers trembled slightly in his hand.

Tita reached the top of the stairwell just in time to see Damon’s back Naomi against the wall.

Her eyes widened.

She ducked behind the corner, peeking out just enough to see the duo go back and forth. She tried to lean a little closer but they were both too far away, she couldn't make out her words.

She watched as Naomi disappeared around the far end of the hallway. Damon stood there for a long time, head bowed, his shoulders tense. The sight alone was enough to make her skin prickle with curiosity.

Her grin widened, she was right. Those two had something going on. Something hot and it's starting to crumble from this angle.

And what was that paper she tossed in her face? Why is he looking at it like that? Is she finally resigning? The thought made Tita want to squeal in happiness! That was fantastic news!

Her lips twitched.

“Oh, this is going to be interesting,” she muttered under her breath.

By the time Damon finally turned toward the elevator again, his expression was unreadable but with a quiet devastation that even he couldn’t hide.

He held the papers loosely at his side, fingers trembling just slightly, before he stepped inside the elevator.

The doors closed, sealing him away once more.

Tita exhaled slowly, shaking her head in disbelief. “Mr. Sinclair having relations with a staff.” she murmured. “Now that’s a story.”

She smiled to herself as she walked towards her department, already thinking of how she’d tell the others in the break room.

Because in an office like this, secrets don't stay secrets. And by noon, everyone would know.