Rain.
I watch it fall through the window of my dorm room, leaning against the wall beside it as I kneel on my bed, my legs tucked beneath my weight. The tears that stain my cheeks feel cold against my skin, gathering at my chin and dripping onto the hand-written letter sitting on my lap. My lip trembles, a soft sob passing my lips as my eyebrows furrow, the bridge of my nose stinging.
What did I do..?
My gaze falls to the piece of paper, and through my hazy vision, I re-read the lines over and over again:
‘Ely,
I’ve been staring at this sheet of paper for the past two hours, unsure of how to tell you what I need to say. Ely, my dearest Ely, I love you. I will always love you. From the moment I met you, I knew you were the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. You see, I once dreamt about you. Before we met, I had a dream about meeting you. You were standing near the waterfall of our favorite park, wearing that bitsy blue dress of yours that I love so much, and you looked at me and smiled.
I don’t know why, but when I woke up from that dream, I knew. I just knew someday I’d meet you and I’d ask you to marry me. I envisioned a life where I’d come home to you, my beautiful wife, and the daughter we’d name Naomi.
Ely, I love you. I love you, but I can’t stay with you. I wish I could. With everything inside me, I wish I could have you for the rest of my life, but I’m not the same man I was when we met. I won’t ever be the same man again, and it’s not fair to you. You deserve more.
Ely, my dearest Ely. Please, live. Live your life to the fullest. Be happy. Live.
I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me, and maybe in another life, we’ll meet again. In another life, where the world isn’t so cruel, my dream—you—I’ll be blessed to live.
-Cade’
Tears splotch the black ink, my hands trembling as a hiccup rips from my chest. I shift my hand, placing it flat over the letter, and as I look down at the shiny diamond ring on my finger, I wish, with everything inside me, I could disappear—fade away into nothing.
⊰ Three Years Later ⊱
“Alright, Bubbles. It’s official!”
I clap my hands in excitement, looking down at my two-year-old Saint Bernard as he wiggles his butt to lower himself onto the dark gray rug of the living room. “This is home,” I breathe out in contentment.
It’s been two weeks since I packed up my apartment and moved half-way across the country for a new job opportunity. It’s never the packing that gets me. Packing? I’m excited for. It’s the unpacking that, for the life of me, I dread to no end. It’s the unloading, unboxing, tossing, and rearranging for me, really. So…essentially all of it.
Today, however, I unpacked the last box, thus making the move official.
Well, in my head, it does, anyway.
I exhale deeply, watching as Bubbles keeps eyeing me with anticipation in his eyes, his tail wagging dangerously behind him.
He knows. It’s that time of the day: we walk to the park so he can get tired and refuse to walk back.
Pain in my ass…
“Alright, let’s get going then,” I mutter as I move to the doorway, reaching for the leash hanging on one of the key holders next to the front door.
In one swift motion, I clip the leash to his collar and pull the door open. As always, he’s a good boy and sits, following quickly beside me as I take the first step out. People hardly talk about this, but the fact that they make doorlocks that don’t require you to insert a key is the greatest invention of mankind.
Okay, that is a little bit of an exaggeration.
It’s just convenient. I wave the little keyfob over the monitor, and it peeps. I turn the lock, and it locks. How cool is that?
The convenience of living on the first floor cannot be overlooked, especially when you do your own grocery shopping and have to take your dog out multiple times daily. Unfortunately, I can’t say that I had the luxury of picking the first floor because I got stuck on the third floor. And with no elevators? My life is ass. Absolute ass.
Here goes cardio, I guess.
Bubbles walks closely beside me as we descend the flights of stairs and head down the street. The park is only a block away from my apartment and the gym that I just signed up for is one block away in the opposite direction, purposefully so.
After having to do one-hour commutes to school and to the gym back when I was in college for nearly five years, I avoid driving if I have to. I hate to be that person, but COVID may very well have been the best thing that ever happened to me.
You know how people say that they’re homebodies but they aren’t actually homebodies? Yeah…that’s not me. I love being at home. In fact, if I never had to leave home, I probably never would. It’s not that I don’t like people. It’s that I don’t like stupid people. And it’s not that I’m arrogant. It’s that when your IQ is well above average, almost everyone seems stupid to you.
Just like this past Sunday, the park is relatively empty. Personally, my favorite part about coming to the park is the little food truck that parks across from the park. They make this amazing coconut boba milk tea.
It’s not that I don’t enjoy walking Bubbles. It’s that the greatest perk of it is getting to drink my favorite boba tea every single time.
Most importantly, it fits perfectly into my macros diet, so I feel absolutely zero shame…except for the $30 I spend on it weekly.
The greatest part about arguably having the laziest dog in the world is that it only takes one lap around the concrete trail and he’s ready to sit. This is when I get to go up to the fluorescent colored food truck where the familiar blond teenage boy already has my tea prepared for me.
He greets me cheerfully, “Hi again!”
I offer him a small smile as I navigate my iPhone to the Apple Pay app, tapping it against the payment terminal.
It’s kind of crazy how you’re asked to tip pretty much everywhere nowadays. I remember when I was working fast food, and I was lucky if I didn’t get yelled at by a customer for something that was out of my control. I guess that really doesn’t have anything to do with tipping. I don’t know. I just think it’s weird. But the kid’s nice and doesn’t make me wait, eh…what the hell?
I tap on the 20% button and nod at him, taking my boba tea as he thanks me kindly. “Have a great day!” He exclaims.
With a small smile on my face, I turn to find the nearest bench—the one I usually sit on—and lower myself to it. Holding Bubbles’ leash between my legs, I pierce the plastic seal of my tea with the straw and lean back as I sip on it with fulfillment.
I enjoy the cloudy sky and cool breeze kissing my fair skin as I think about what tomorrow will bring. Or, at least, of what I hope it will bring.
The extensive background check that they run on you is really something else when you’re working for a company that requires a high security clearance. It has been six months of waiting and quite literally getting paid to do nothing, hence the 3-year contract. But while I waited, I kept my old job as a technical administrator—for double the income. It wasn’t until two weeks ago that I received notification that my clearance came through and I would be required to be in the office bright and early tomorrow morning. Of which I was very happy about, minus the unpacking.
When you’re in college, no one ever talks about how maybe 1% of people get to do what they’re truly passionate about. Because realistically speaking, most things that people are passionate about aren’t enough to make a living from. So if you’re like me, you settle. You focus on something that you understand, you get good at it, and if it pays the bills, you just kind of stick with it. It’s the sad reality of growing up.
Although, I guess when you come from nothing, it doesn’t actually feel like you’re settling when your compensation is enough to live comfortably.
The light water droplets that suddenly stain my round glasses pull me out of my thoughts.
Welp, time to go.
At the trash can beside me, I toss the empty plastic cup as I straighten on my feet. With Bubble’s leash around my wrist, we make our way back to the apartment complex.
It seems like the closer we get, the harder the wind blows and the sky grows darker. The loose leaves rustling on the trees dance with the wind, falling and kissing the ground.
It’s no surprise, really. Fall, my favorite time of the year, is right around the corner. For the first time in my life, I might actually experience a snowy winter.
Well, assuming it ever snows again in South Texas.
“I’m trying, okay? You don’t make it easy, Lydia!”
I arch a brow as I approach the dark brown haired man standing at the corner of the block. He holds his phone up against his ear with an irritable look on his face.
“I’m literally standing out here, in the rain, talking to you. Why would I do that if I didn’t care about you?” He speaks into the phone.
It is drizzling, at best. Dramatic as hell.
“Look, I’ll call you back later. I don’t have time for this shit.”
A light chuckle emits from the back of my throat as I shake my head and roll my eyes.
Oh, shit.
My breath suddenly catches in my lungs, my body colliding with another much larger than mine. I stagger back, catching myself in the next moment.
“I’m sorry,” a familiar, deep, husky voice echoes.
My gaze snaps up, capturing a pair of ocean-blue irises. I eye the tall man for what seems like a split second, scanning his stern features, but he doesn’t stop, hardly giving me a sideways glance as he continues his hastened steps down the block and around the corner.
It takes me a while, my steps ceasing entirely as it hits me in the next second. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, the image of his face lingering in my mind.
It’s as though the stars have aligned, thunder cracking in the sky as I feel the promise of the rain falling hard on me. But it hardly fazes me. In fact, were it not for Bubbles’ whimper, the rain would’ve gone completely unnoticed by me.
Cade..?
I groan at the soft instrumental music blasting from my phone, my restless eyes fluttering open. I spent the better part of the night tossing and turning, wondering if the man that I saw last night actually was who I think he was. I’m probably trippin’. … I am exhausted… It’s as though I can feel the bags under my eyes as I pull the teal colored bed sheets from over my body, my unoccupied hand silencing my phone. The heavy sighs that erupt from a sleepy Bubbles laying on his beige orthopedic dog bed makes me side-eye him, wondering what could possibly ale my favorite unemployed freeloader. Per usual, I go about my daily routine: feed Bubbles, make the bed, brush my teeth, shower, throw on a pair of boot-cut jeans with a nice long-sleeve blouse, and I put on my eyebrows. Okay, that’s a little bit of an exaggeration. I’m actually just filling them in. I lengthen my eyelashes with mascara, brush and blow-dry my shiny, waist-length, black, straight hair while I pray for a frizz-
It’s as if the world has stood still and time’s been frozen. With my breath caught in my lungs and my heart thumping loudly in my ears, my eyes gloss as a 6-foot-tall, lean, muscular Cade approaches Krina and I. The familiar scent of his favorite cologne—Creed’s Royal Oud—a scent I once found comfort in, now making my stomach churn. “Good morning,” he says softly, his voice as deep as I remember, as he brings his black thermo cup up to his lips. In his navy blue suit, white button-up shirt and navy blue tie, he stands before us, looking at Krina. He nods at her as he takes a sip of what I assume is coffee before he shifts his gaze to meet my own. “Oh! She’s the new junior engineer that Jeremy hired months ago. She just moved here from Florida,” she tells him, pausing momentarily with a thoughtful look on her face. “Hey…aren’t you from Florida? Ha! Small world, I guess…” her voice trails off. Cade arches a brow at her, chuckling softly. “Well, welcome to the team, Miss…?” He do
The hours that pass are painful. Not even the horrid HR videos that I’ve been watching for the past few hours are enough to settle my anxiety. The lunch hour couldn’t roll around fast enough, and while others in the team start trickling off at noon, I wait until Krina gets up to follow behind her. We part ways when she approaches the floor’s kitchen area and I continue to the elevator where I ride it down to the first floor and make my way to my car in the garage. Anxious to call my best friend, the phone’s already dialing as I lower myself onto the passenger seat. Closing the door, I press the speaker button, the heel of my foot incessantly tapping against the car’s floor. “Hey, girl!” Ava answers cheerfully. “What’s up? How’s your first day going?! Tell me EVERYTHING.” Under different circumstances, I would’ve been ever-so grateful for having a great friend who’s just as enthusiastic as I would’ve been otherwise. “Ava…” my voice quavers as I try not to let what I’m feeling co
After going back home to take Bubbles out for a 10-minute walk, I freshen up by taking a quick shower and changing into a more casual white long-sleeve shirt. While it is an out-of-office event, the idea of revealing my sleeve tattoo doesn’t seem like a good one.Perception is reality.I can’t give executive management the opportunity to scrutinize me the same way that Cade’s father did when I first had the wonderful pleasure of meeting him. I’m pretty sure it was the tattoos…For the first time in a long time, I wish that the drive were longer. 10 minutes to Bridges’ Bar is hardly enough time for me to mentally prepare myself for being in a room full of fairly important people, and surely enough, once I’ve parked in the bar’s parking lot, I find myself sitting in the driver’s seat with the car off and an excuse not to step foot out of it.We go in. Stay for 30 minutes and we leave. Easy.But it's really not easy. Authoritative figures make me extremely nervous, so much so that I typ
The weekend couldn’t have come fast enough, and while I race through the last HR training, Mateo and Krina say their goodbyes and wish me a good weekend.These past couple of days, I’ve been staying behind, a little past 5PM so as to not be the first of the engineers on my team to leave. Today, however, it’s 10 minutes until 6PM and I’m only 5 minutes short from finishing the unskippable last video.If not for the fact that I’m aggravated by the fact that I have to finish this before being allowed to work on anything else, I need something to challenge my mind. While I know that there will come a lot of work and stress, I would much rather have to worry about that than the animosity between Cade and I.As the last 30 seconds of the video play, I stand from my seat and begin to pack up my belongings. It’s a feeling of satisfaction like no other when the intolerable voice of the woman narrating the video finally stops, and I close out of the HR screen for the last time. In one swift mot
From doing nothing for 6 months to 2 weeks of HR trainings and being bombarded with Layer 2 troubleshootings, it feels a lot like going back to school after taking a semester off. Actually, between the troubleshootings and being assigned documentation for three higher-level engineers, it feelsexactlylike going back to school after taking a semester off.That’s what I did, once upon a time.As much as I like to pretend otherwise, Cade breaking up with me over a letter in the mail destroyed me that way. It took so much out of me that I took a semester off and transferred to another university to finish out the last two semesters in a place that didn’t remind me of him.Fortunately, unlike then, this time, I’ve managed to hold myself together.Between the pressure of getting ready to start the IPv6 migration as soon as possible and day-to-day work, I’ve been too busy to worry about anything else. In fact, were it
⊰ Cade ⊱I sit at the table, sipping my beer as I wait for my date to arrive. The bustling energy of the restaurant envelops me—the clink of glasses, the hum of conversation, the occasional burst of laughter. My gaze scans the premises briefly, my gaze flickering from the semi-empty bar to the basketball game playing on the pair of TVs overhead when my attention is suddenly drawn to the door as a familiar figure walks in.Elysian.The mere sight of her is unsettling, my eyes following her as she makes her way to the bar and takes a seat. I can’t help but stare, my mind drifting, trying to recall the last time I’d seen her, before shemysteriouslyreappeared in my life.It was an argument, as usual. Truthfully, I can’t remember doing anything with herexceptarguing. She kept trying to walk away from me while I was talking, knowing full well how much I hated it when she
I exhale deeply, my heavy eyelids flickering open as I groan at the pounding in my head.Where am I..?I turn my head to the side, briefly eyeing the pair of thick, black drapes blocking the sunlight from the large windows on the balcony set of double doors at the far end of the room. The light that creeps between the pair is just enough to illuminate the unfamiliar room, and it only makes me uneasy.My eyebrows furrow as I push my elbows back, helping myself sit up on the unfamiliar king size bed that I lay on. My gaze falls to my lap, relieved to see that I’m fully-clothed in the same clothes that I threw on last night, minus my shoes.What happened..?It’s foggy for a moment, the recollection of the events that took place at the bar slowly coming back in pieces like flashes from a heavy lightning storm.Oh, my God…I was drugged.As disoriented as I am, I’m oddly not anxious. I&rsq
⊰ Keegan ⊱Six years.Six years of playing the long game, of carefully maneuvering myself into position.And finally, it’s about to pay off.I stand in Cade Sinclair’s opulent office, my face a mask of professional concern as I listen to James deliver the news about David’s disappearance. The tension in the room is heavy, thick enough to cut with a knife. The scent of expensive leather and polished wood fills my nostrils, not exactly the grimy back alleys and smoke-filled rooms I’ve spent my most of my life in.I’ve been in this game for nearly half my life. The mafia has been my only family since I was eighteen, a scared kid with nothing to lose and everything to prove. Now, twelve years later, I’m Levi Carter’s right-hand man, trusted with the most delicate operations.Like this one.“What do you mean he’s disappeared?” Cade’s voice is low, dangerous. I’ve seen that look in his eyes before—it’s the look of a man ready to burn the world down to protect what’s his. It’s a look I know w
The soft afternoon light filters through the gauzy curtains, casting a warm glow over the living room. I'm nestled into the plush corner of our sectional, the fabric cool against my skin. Naomi is curled up beside me, her small body radiating heat like a tiny furnace. The rhythmic sound of her breathing is punctuated by the occasional soft snore, a sound that never fails to make my heart swell.I run my fingers through her silky hair, marveling at how something so simple can fill me with such overwhelming love. The scent of her baby shampoo—a mix of lavender and vanilla—wafts up, mingling with the lingering aroma of the Ramen I made for lunch.I can never get enough of you.Just a month ago, I was sitting in a sterile hospital room, the harsh fluorescent lights burning my eyes as I waited, heart in pieces, to hear if my baby would survive. The memory of that fear, that soul-crushing dread, still haunts me. The beeping of machines, the hushed voices of doctors, the antiseptic smell tha
⊰ Cade ⊱The leather chair creaks softly as I lean back, my eyes scanning the faces of the board members seated around the long mahogany table. A month has passed since the accident, a month of sleepless nights and tense days, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But there's been nothing but silence from my father.Now, as I sit in this boardroom, the empty chair at the head of the table looms large. David Sinclair's absence is a palpable thing, filling the room with unasked questions and uneasy glances.“Ladies and gentlemen,” I begin, my voice steady despite the knot of tension in my gut, “I think we all know why we’re here today.”There’s a murmur of agreement, a shuffling of papers. I can see the mix of emotions on their faces—concern, curiosity, and in some, barely concealed ambition.“My father’s… absence… has left a void in the leadership of Sinclair Enterprises,” I continue, choosing my words carefully. “A void that needs to be filled if we’re to move forward.”I lay out the si
The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room bore into my eyes, amplifying the throbbing in my head. The antiseptic smell burns my nostrils, a sickening reminder of where I am and why. My body aches, each movement sending sharp pains through my bruised ribs, but it's nothing compared to the agony in my heart as I wait for news about Naomi.The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor feels like it's drilling into my skull, matching the frantic pace of my own heartbeat. Cade sits beside me, his hand clasped tightly in mine, his thumb tracing soothing circles on my skin. But even his touch can't calm the storm raging inside me.“What if she doesn’t make it?” The words escape me in a choked whisper, giving voice to the fear that’s been gnawing at my insides. “Cade, what if our baby doesn’t—”“Don’t,” Cade cuts me off, his voice rough but steady. “She’s going to be fine. She has to be.”But I can’t stop myself from spiraling with dark thoughts. Images of Naomi, broken and bleeding, flas
⊰ Cade ⊱The hospital corridor is a blur of white walls and fluorescent lights as I race towards the emergency room. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat, each beat a reminder of how quickly life can change.Elysian and Naomi. My wife and daughter. In a car accident.The words keep repeating in my head, a nightmarish mantra I can't shake. When I got the call, it felt like the ground had disappeared from under my feet. Now, as I burst through the ER doors, that feeling returns tenfold.“I’m looking for Elysian Sinclair and Naomi Sinclair,” I bark at the nurse behind the desk, my voice rough with fear and barely contained panic. “They were brought in after a car accident. Where are they?”The nurse, to her credit, doesn’t flinch at my tone. She types quickly into her computer, then looks up at me with sympathy in her eyes. “Mrs. Sinclair is in room 305. Your daughter is currently in surgery.”Surgery..?The word tightens the knot in my chest, making it hard to breathe
The shrill of my phone cuts through the quiet of the afternoon, startling Naomi from her play. I glance at the screen, my heart sinking as I see Ava’s name flashing there. Just like it has every day for the past two weeks.I've been avoiding her calls, still raw from the revelation of her involvement in Cade's hypnosis. But today, something makes me pause. Maybe it's the weariness of carrying this anger, or maybe it's the tiny voice in my head reminding me of all the years of friendship we shared.Whatever it is, I find myself answering.“Hello?” My voice sounds strained even to my own ears.“Elys?” Ava’s voice is hesitant, hopeful. “I… I wasn’t sure you’d pick up.”I close my eyes, fighting the urge to hang up. “What do you want, Ava?”“I’m in town,” she says quickly, as if afraid I’ll cut her off. “I was hoping we could talk. Face to face.”Part of me wants to refuse, to shut her out completely. But another part, the part that remembers late-night study sessions and shared secrets,
⊰ Cade ⊱I approach my father’s office, not bothering to knock. I push the door open, stepping into the spacious office that’s been the backdrop for so many of our conversations over the years. The room is bathed in the soft glow of a desk lamp, casting long shadows across the polished mahogany furniture and the floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a panoramic view of the city below.And there he is, David Sinclair himself, looking up from his desk with a mixture of surprise and annoyance on his face. His salt-and-pepper hair is immaculately styled as always, his crisp white shirt a stark contrast to the dark wood of his chair.“Cade? What are you doing here at this hour?”I meet his gaze, unflinching. “We need to talk, Dad. About a lot of things.” I eye him for a moment, letting the words sink in before adding, “Let’s start with the hypnosis.”The color drains from his face, but he quickly composes himself, his features settling into a mask of confusion like the perfect actor he is. “
⊰ Cade ⊱The steady hum of the car’s engine fills the silence as I wait outside the airport. My eyes flick between the arrival board and the rearview mirror, where I can see Naomi peacefully sleeping in her car seat. Her little chest rises and falls with each breath, her dark lashes fluttering against her cheeks. The sight of her never fails to soften something in me, a reminder of what really matters in this world.My phone buzzes, drawing my attention away from her. James’ name flashes on the screen. I answer, keeping my voice low to avoid waking Naomi.“What’s up, James?”“Hey, Cade. Got an update on the board situation.” There’s a pause, and I can almost see him running a hand through his black hair, a nervous tick he’s had since college. “But there’s something else you need to know.”I straighten in my seat, tension creeping into my shoulders. “Go on.”“The Feds have been sniffing around your father’s affairs.”The Feds? What the hell did he do now?My grip tightens on the steeri
The Florida heat hits me like a wall as I step out of the air-conditioned taxi. I squint against the bright sunlight, taking in the sight of Aunt Irene’s house. It’s been a year since I’ve been here, but little seems to have changed. The palm trees sway gently in the breeze, their fronds casting dancing shadows on the well-manicured lawn.I stand there for a moment, memories washing over me. This house became my home when I was ten, a scared and grieving orphan thrust into a new life. Aunt Irene took me in, raised me as her own alongside my younger cousin Maisie. I wish I could say I have nothing but pleasant memories of it all, but as I walk toward the front door, my steps only seem to get heavier, anxiety gnawing at my insides.Breathe. It’ll be fine.Before I can reach for the doorbell, I hear movement inside. My heart races. I haven’t told Aunt Irene I was coming—partly because I was afraid she’d tell me not to, and partly because I knew I needed to see her face when I asked about