Semua Bab When My Body Learned Your Name: Bab 11 - Bab 20

I didn’t sleep that night.Not really.The second my head hit the pillow, Carson’s image was there, uninvited. Not the composed, teasing man from the office—the one who’d actually made me think I could handle him—but the other side: the dangerous, infuriating, impossible side. I saw him in flashes: leaning close as we worked on the report, the way he held his gaze just long enough to make my chest tighten, the ghost of Emma’s warning lurking behind every movement.And then there were the memories I couldn’t shake from the night before—the things I had accidentally walked in on. Every detail replayed in my mind, unwanted, unrelenting. I twisted beneath the covers, trying to block it out, but it didn’t help.By 2 a.m., I gave up entirely. I got out of bed, pouring myself a glass of water, staring blankly out the window at the city lights. Sleep wasn’t going to come, and the thought of lying there with my imagination running wild was worse than just staying awake.So I did. I stayed awak

ANNAThe next morning, the air felt heavier than usual as I walked into the office. I’d barely had time to process the night’s thoughts—Carson, Eleanor, the mess of feelings I couldn’t untangle—before Grace intercepted me with a sharp glare.“Anna, get in here,” she barked, motioning toward her office.I sighed and followed, my shoulders stiff. She didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “We have a meeting with Hawthorne Ventures in thirty minutes,” she said, flipping through a stack of papers. “I don’t care if you’re not in my department, you’re sitting in for me while I handle a few internal crises.”I tried to mask my disappointment. The Venture Capitalist team—that was the department I had applied to transfer into months ago. A team handling high-stakes clients, innovative investments, actual growth opportunities. Instead, here I was, shunted into the taxation side again, dealing with numbers and reports that made my head ache.“Yes… Grace,” I muttered. My stomach sank.She raised an e

ANNAThe moment I stepped out of the building, the rain swallowed me whole.It had been raining all evening—steady, relentless—but I hadn’t noticed until now. Until the cold drops soaked through my hair, my blouse, my thoughts. The sky was dark and heavy, the streetlights blurring into smeared halos as the rain hit the pavement hard enough to splash back onto my legs.I didn’t slow down.I pushed through the revolving doors and kept walking, my breath uneven, my chest tight. My bag slipped on my shoulder, papers inside crinkling as if protesting my lack of care. I didn’t care. Not about the mess. Not about the time. Not about anything except getting away.Behind me, I heard my name.“Anna!”Carson’s voice cut through the rain, sharp and unmistakable.I froze for half a second—just long enough for my heart to lurch painfully in my chest—then I ran.I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. If I did, I knew I’d stop, and stopping meant listening, and listening meant breaking. My shoes slapped aga

CARSONEleanor was talking.I was only half listening.She sat perched on the edge of my desk, one leg crossed over the other, her heel dangling lazily as she spoke about some gallery opening she wanted me to attend with her that weekend. Her voice was smooth, practiced—pleasant background noise I’d learned to tune out when my mind was elsewhere.Which it was.My gaze drifted, unbidden, toward the glass wall of my office. The floor outside buzzed with the usual low hum of work—keyboards, phones, muted conversations. Normal. Predictable.Yet something in my chest felt tight, restless.“—and honestly,” Eleanor continued, rolling her eyes, “if I have to smile at one more pretentious art critic—Carson?”I looked back at her. “Hmm?”“You’re not listening,” she said, lips curving into a familiar pout.“I am,” I lied easily. “You were saying something about wine and suffering.”She laughed, swatting my arm lightly. “You’re impossible.”Before I could respond, a sharp sound cut through the ai

ANNAI woke up slowly.Not the jolt-out-of-your-skin kind of waking, but the gradual return to awareness that came with heaviness in my limbs and a dull ache behind my eyes. Everything felt thick, muffled, like I was moving through water.The first thing I noticed was the smell—clean, sharp, sterile.Hospital.The second thing I noticed was the beeping.Soft. Rhythmic. Annoyingly persistent.I frowned and tried to move, immediately regretting it when a wave of dizziness washed over me. My arm felt strange—tight, tethered. I turned my head slightly and saw the IV line taped to my skin.“Oh,” I murmured.“So you’re awake.”The voice came from my right.I turned my head again.Carson was sitting beside the bed.Not standing. Not hovering awkwardly by the door. Sitting—close enough that his knee brushed the side of the mattress, his suit jacket draped over the back of the chair, sleeves rolled up to his forearms like he’d been there a while.For a second, my brain refused to process it.“