The Morning After Nothing

ANNA She was already reaching for the coffee pot when the kitchen lights clicked on behind her. The sudden brightness made her squint. Enoch stood in the doorway in yesterday’s trousers and a fresh white shirt, sleeves rolled exactly the way she had catalogued six years ago and never stopped noticing. His hair was still damp from the shower. She told herself the observation was purely factual. “Morning,” she said, voice light enough to pass for normal. She poured two cups because her hands needed something to do. “You look like you slept zero hours. That makes two of us.” He didn’t answer. He crossed the room, took the mug she offered, and set it down untouched. The silence stretched until it felt like another person in the room. Anna leaned back against the counter. The marble was cold through her thin pyjama shorts. She had chosen the shortest pair she owned on purpose. Petty, yes. Effective, apparently. His gaze flicked down once before it locked on her face. “So,” she sa

The Rule They Break

ANNA The lift doors slid shut and the car hummed upward. Enoch stood with his back to the mirrored wall, arms folded, eyes fixed on the glowing numbers like they owed him money. Anna leaned against the opposite side because the alternative was standing close enough to smell the soap still clinging to his skin. She noticed the way the white shirt pulled across his shoulders first. Objective fact. The fabric was expensive and it knew how to behave. She cleared her throat. "You can stop pretending the merger call is the only thing on your mind."His gaze flicked to her. Once."I have several things on my mind, Anna." His voice was even. "The merger happens to be one of them.""And Daniel?"Silence. The lift hummed."Daniel," he repeated, the name flat in his mouth. "What about him?"She laughed dryly, and punched his arm lightly. "Come on. You had your hand on my wrist like you were measuring my pulse for signs of disloyalty. Daniel sent one text and you looked ready to delete his en

Family Weekend

ANNA Her mother stepped out of the arrivals hall dragging the same battered suitcase she had used for every holiday since Anna was twelve. The sight hit like a soft punch. Anna stood frozen for half a second, then moved. She met her halfway, arms already open, and let herself be folded into the vanilla-and-flour hug that still smelled exactly like home. “You came,” Anna said into her mother’s shoulder. The words came out steadier than she felt. “Of course we came.” Her mother pulled back, cupped Anna’s face, thumbs brushing under her eyes like she could wipe away the last three weeks with touch alone. “You sounded tired on the phone. And Enoch said the guest rooms were ready.” Dad appeared behind her, slower, carrying the duty-free bag like it might explode. His eyes found Enoch first. They always did. “Son,” he said, the word warm and automatic. He clapped Enoch on the shoulder the way he used to when Enoch was twenty and still pretended he wasn’t watching Anna across every

Anna's Aunt

ANNA The doorbell rang while her mother was still mid-sentence about the neighbour’s roses. Anna paused with the coffee pot halfway to her father’s cup. Enoch’s hand was already on the back of her chair, steady, the same way it had been since they sat down for breakfast. She noticed the flex of muscle under his rolled sleeve first. Objective. Useful detail for later when she needed to remind herself why her pulse was doing stupid things. “I’ll get it,” he said. He crossed the open living room in three strides. Anna watched the line of his shoulders and told herself the observation was only practical. The man moved like he owned gravity. The door opened. A woman’s voice, crisp and carrying the same clipped consonants as Enoch’s, filled the foyer. “Darling. You didn’t mention guests.” Enoch’s mother stepped inside. She wore cream cashmere and the kind of perfume that announced money without shouting. Her eyes swept the room once, landed on Anna, and stayed. Anna felt the l

Old Wounds

ENOCH Enoch closed the study door behind them. The click sounded louder than it should have. His mother did not sit. She walked to the window, arms folded, and looked out at the grey stretch of river like it had personally offended her. He stayed by the door. Evelyn turned. "You brought her here.""She works with me.""Annabelle." His mother said her name with disapproval. "In your apartment. In your company. Looking at you the way she does. Are you even thinking clearly?"Enoch crossed to the desk. He picked up the single pen lying there and set it in the tray. Small movements. "She's good at her job," he said."That is not what I'm talking about and you know it.""Mother.""Don't use that tone. I'm not one of your board members." She turned from the window fully now, arms still folded, and he could see the thing behind her eyes that she almost never let out. Grief wearing anger's face, which was worse. "I watched you miss three family Christmases because she was going to be

Maya Arrives

ANNA I was still pushing cold eggs around my plate when the lift chimed in the foyer. My stomach did that stupid little flip it always did when the doors opened these days. Not because I expected trouble. But it was Enoch’s building and everything in it felt like it belonged to him first and me second. I set the fork down. My mother had already gone for a walk with Dad, after Enoch’s mum left and the apartment felt too quiet without them. Too full of the conversation I had not quite had with Enoch ten minutes ago. He sat across from me now, coffee mug in one hand, watching me and I, him.The lift doors slid open. Maya stepped out dragging the same battered purple suitcase she had used since university with her hair tied up in a messy bun. She took one look at the open-plan space, the river view, and her mouth curved into a smile that had gotten us both into trouble more times than I could count. “Well,” she said, loud enough for the whole top floor to hear. “This is fancy.”