A coward. That was what I realized myself to be in that moment. I spent days wondering if he truly intended to fight about it and dismiss it and now that he claims not to, I chose to run. I walked out of the basement in a rush, unable to keep still, unable to find the right words to say to him. This was far too complicated. And I hate complicated. After taking off the denim overalls, I took a quick shower, washing off the colors that had no doubt stained my skin and then proceeded to stare at the tiled walls blankly for almost an hour. Then the hot water had began to cool and I realized I'd used it all up while being lost in thought. With a reluctant sigh, I stepped out of the shower to get dressed. I had to meet up with Vincent. He said he would be taking me to his gallery so as to pick a spot and get a feel of the place. A good opportunity to leave the house before the shareholders meeting coming up at Grayson Holdings. I rummaged through my closet, finally sett
I nodded, a bittersweet smile playing on my lips. "I'm sure," I said, stepping closer to the painting. "Look, right there in the corner. That's her signature. I'd recognize it anywhere," Vincent leaned in, his eyes narrowing as he examined the delicate swirl of initials in the bottom right corner of the canvas. The strange look in his eyes disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a warm smile. "You must be very proud of your mother," he said softly, his gaze shifting back to me. Yes, I knew my mind should have lingered on how strange the exchange between us slowly became, but when it came to my mother and the memories she left behind, it was easier to just block everything out. I felt a lump form in my throat. "Yes, I am," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "And I miss her... so much." Vincent opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a melodic voice interrupted us. "Vincent! There you are!" We both turned to see a tall, strikingly
The drive back to Roman's mansion was quiet, save for the soft classical music playing in Vincent's car. My mind was a ballroom of thoughts and emotions, all centering around the man I I knew I shouldn't be thinking about. Still, somehow after my trip o had come to realize just how much I had spiraled. I do not know who I become when I'm around Roman. The memories, they were blending into one, confusing the fuck out of me but being out after what had happened. Speaking with Vincent…made me realize that I was forgetting who I was. Vincent, probably sensing my mood, didn't push for conversation, and I was grateful for his understanding. As we pulled up to the gates, I felt a knot form in my stomach. What would I say to Roman? I had questions, and this time I will not be distracted by those lips…or those blue orbs that seemed to see through all of my thoughts. The questions swirled in my head, making me dizzy with anticipation and dread. "Thank you for today, Vincent,
I bit back a retort, reminding myself to stay civil. "Is there something I can help you with?" I asked, trying to keep my voice leveled. The last thing I wanted was to face her. I had to think, I can't think with her here. Victoria stood up, smoothing down her impeccable white designer suit. "I'm looking for my son," she stated, her tone implying that this should have been obvious. "Where is Roman?" I hesitated, realizing I actually had no idea where Roman was. After our confrontation this morning, he could be anywhere. "I believe he might have left for the office," I said carefully. "I'm not sure when he'll be back," Victoria's eyes narrowed. "You mean to tell me," she said, her voice dripping with condescension, "That you don't even know where your own husband is?" She lifted a brow, looking down at me like I was a speck of dirt that just got smaller. I felt the corners of my lips twitch at her words. Gosh, this woman must think she can be a bitch to everyone! "Ro
Vincent didn't tell me much about his family, only that he had a few sisters and a mother who nagged him all the time about making friends and such. He said it was a small family gathering, nothing too big so I dressed semi-casual. It was a simple dress. I stood in front of the mirror, tugging at the straps of my sundress. It was a simple thing, light blue and perfect for the warm weather. As I ran my fingers through my hair, I realized it had grown longer than I liked. It now fell past my shoulders in black waves. I made a mental note to visit the salon soon to get a proper trim and maybe a new color. The last thing I wanted was to look like the woman I woke up as, sure she was me…but I will never be her. My stomach churned with nerves. I was meeting Vincent's family today, and I had no clue what to expect. I barely made proper friends when I was younger, not to talk of meeting their family. Maybe I was making it seem more dramatic than it should've been but I really
With a barely audible sigh, Roman stood to his full height, ready to leave. But before he did, he called out to me once more, his tone softer than before. "Amelia... be careful today, and if anything comes up, let me know," Is he…worried about my well-being? Or worried I might be kidnapped because of him again for reasons best known to him? His concern, however genuine it might be, only served to frustrate me further. "There's no need for that," I replied, my as voice cold and distant as I could make it in that moment. "I can take care of myself." Roman's shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly as he sighed again. "I know you can. That's not... Look, I just want you to be safe. Is that so wrong?" For a moment, I felt my resolve weaken. The softness in his voice, the worry in his eyes - it was almost enough to make me give him a reassuring comment or forget everything. Almost. But I couldn't. I couldn't let myself fall back into the confusion and hurt of the past few weeks. I
I wasn't sure what I expected, but a small two story house that seemed to be a few years old wasn't it. I half expected Vincent's home to be as extravagant as the mansion he lived in. The man was loaded. As we approached the simple wooden door in front of us, I wiped my clammy palms against the side of my dress a few times. Vincent knocked on the front door without hesitation, and I held my breath, clutching the gift for his mother tightly. The door swung open, revealing a petite woman that seemed to be in her early fifties with a beautiful face that bore a striking resemblance to Vincent. It was like looking at the female, older version of Vincent. Her eyes lit up when she saw us, a warm smile spreading across her face. "You must be Amelia," she exclaimed with a wide grin, her gaze merely brushing with her son's. "Come in, come in!” she gestured us in. Then she turned to look at Vincent with a glare, “Vincent, you're late as usual," she swatted his arm making him flin
After giving countless apologies to Vincent and his family, I rushed out of their house, hoping they won't find my abrupt departure to be rude and probably see me as some sort of prude. Vincent had offered to drive me over to my family home but I had politely declined. Quite frankly, the last thing I wanted was for him to catch even a glimpse of what my family is like…compared to his. I would be so ashamed. After a few minutes of standing by the side of the road, I finally found a taxi. I gave him the address off the top of my head. Reciting it put loud stirred up feelings that I wanted to forget. It made me realize how much I preferred being under Roman's roof than that of my father's. But why…why do my options only ever have to be choosing the lesser evil. I was so lost in thought, I didn't realize when the car pulled to a stop right in front of our small gated estate. “Miss?” The driver's voice pulled me out from my spiraling thoughts, “We are here,” He informed. I m
AMELIAThe hours crawled by with excruciating slowness. Jessica and I sat in the living room, remnants of our lunch spread across the coffee table, neither of us having much appetite. The black car hadn't returned, but I kept glancing out the window anyway, expecting—or dreading—to see it again.I knew something was going on, deep down I knew that the little peace we'd managed to enjoy these past few weeks was already over. I knew it the second I woke up in that hospital. I knew it the second I was told I lost my baby. "You should try to eat something," Jessica said, pushing a container of pasta toward me, looking rather cautious. She's been that way for a while, like she's unsure of what to say, scared that a word might trigger me or something like that. I shook my head. "I can't. My stomach's in knots." I admitted with full honesty. My heart felt heavy and there was the sense of impending doom that I kept trying to push down. Roman and I were…not okay, that much I knew. Eating a
The argument replayed in my mind like a broken record, each harsh word cutting deeper with each repetition. ‘All you see is your own pain.’ The accusation stung particularly sharp because it was untrue. I'd spent weeks trying to understand Roman's pain, making excuses for his absence, convincing myself that his distance was just his way of coping. And now he had the audacity to throw that in my face? That son of a– My phone felt heavy in my pocket. I could call Jessica, or Alexander—they'd be here in minutes. But what would I say? That my husband, the man who'd been my rock through everything, had just revealed a side of himself I'd never seen before? That he was keeping secrets about who had poisoned me? Instead, I did something I hadn't dared since being discharged; I walked upstairs to the nursery door. My hand trembled as it touched the doorknob. We'd painted it white just two weeks ago, discussing whether we should add some kind of decorative element. Roman had wanted to pai
AMELIAHome was supposed to feel like a sanctuary. Instead, the walls seemed to close in around me, each room holding memories that felt more like wounds. The nursery door remained firmly shut—neither of us had the courage to face what lay behind it.I for one knew that I would break down into tiny pieces if I saw what was behind that door. I had already given instructions for the room to be emptied, without my knowledge, of course. I didn't want to see them. The crib. The stuffed animals, the onesies. Fiona had left or rather…fired. I had a feeling she had something to do with the poisoning seeing as Roman was being kind of secretive about why she left or why he fired her. He never really gave me a straight answer, not even when he hired an older woman to fill in as both housekeeper and maid for the meantime. Roman had been adamant about me staying home. "You need to rest," he'd say, his tone leaving no room for argument. But rest felt impossible when my mind wouldn't stop spinnin
The night air was cool against my skin as I stepped out of the hospital, fishing my phone out of my purse to order another Uber. The parking lot was mostly empty, illuminated by scattered streetlights that created pools of yellow light in the darkness. The sound of rapid footsteps behind me made my heart jump, but before I could turn around, I heard his voice."Greece!"Just one word. My name. But the way Colson said it made something inside me twist. I turned to find him slightly out of breath, as if he'd run to catch up with me. The sight of him – powerful, composed Colson – actually running after someone was so unexpected that for a moment, I could only stare."What are you doing here?" I asked, hating how my voice betrayed my awareness of him. Even in the dim light, he was devastating – the shadows playing across his features only emphasized the sharp angles of his face, the intensity of his gaze."It's too dark for you to be out alone," he said, his tone still carrying that profe
GREECE“Why…” I inhaled deeply, “...are you here?” I asked softly. I didn't know he was back from Mexico. But then again, we haven't kept any contact since I left. He couldn't be here for me, right? "Wellington Corp has a meeting with the university board today," Colson said, his voice carrying that familiar professional tone that I'd almost forgotten existed. "With Roman at the hospital with Amelia, I'm handling the meeting with the dean."The words hit me like a splash of cold water, washing away whatever foolish notions I'd been entertaining. Of course. He wasn't here for me. He was here for business, just like always. The realization stung more than it should have, but I refused to let it show on my face."It's nice to see you again," I managed to say, proud of how steady my voice sounded despite the chaos in my chest. But even as I spoke, my traitorous eyes kept drifting to his lips, remembering how they'd felt against mine that night in Mexico. The warmth, the intensity, the
GREECEThe lecture hall felt suffocating despite its size. Professor Williams droned on about corporate law, but my mind was elsewhere, wandering back to memories of Mexico City – memories I couldn't seem to shake no matter how hard I tried. It had been a month since I'd returned, since Colson had practically forced me onto that plane, and yet everything still felt fresh. Raw.The scent of his cologne. The intensity of his gaze. The way his hands felt when they caught me from falling. The almost-kiss on the balcony that still haunted my dreams."Miss Stavros?" Professor Williams's voice cut through my reverie. "Care to share your thoughts on the Jensen case?"I straightened in my seat, forcing myself to focus on the present. "The Jensen case highlighted the importance of fiduciary duty in corporate governance," I began, drawing on whatever information I could remember from last night's reading. "The board's decision to..."As I continued my response, I couldn't help but notice how dif
The days that followed blurred together like watercolors in the rain. I felt disconnected from my body, as if I were floating somewhere above myself, tethered only by the thinnest of threads to the physical world below. The hospital room became my entire universe—a bubble where time moved differently, where every breath felt like an effort against the crushing weight of loss.I used to think I was a strong person, I used to think if I could have survived this far, after everything…then I could handle anything. But this? This pain? It was something I wouldn't wish even my worst enemy. Jessica was my constant companion, her presence both comforting and guilt-inducing. She'd pull up a chair beside my bed, her white coat wrinkled from long hours, dark circles under her eyes betraying her exhaustion."You need to get back to work," I told her one afternoon, my voice still carrying that hollow quality I couldn't seem to shake. "Your patients need you more than I do."She looked up from h
AMELIADarkness. Unrelenting. Suffocating.The memory crashed over me like a violent wave, fragmentary and disjointed. Marcus. The name itself was a razor blade against my consciousness, cutting through the soft, sedated edges of my hospital room's tranquility.I could see him—not his face, never his complete face—but his presence. Overwhelming. Menacing. A shadow that had stalked me longer than I could comprehend. His voice was a low, calculated whisper that seemed to echo through the chambers of my most terrifying memories. "Finally," he had said. "Finally, I have you."I remember being so afraid that I couldn't speak, every time he walked into a room, every time he told me about his love for me…how many times he's watched me, how many times he's just been in the shadows…looking, seeing everything and anything that has happened to me, even times I had forgotten. Flashes of my previous attempts to escape flickered like a damaged film reel. The sharp object I'd used against him—som
AMELIAThe silence was almost like a living, breathing entity. It wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket, pressing against my chest, making each breath feel like a monumental effort. My body felt alien—a vessel that had somehow failed its most fundamental purpose. The white hospital walls seemed to close in, choking me yet at the same time those white walls managed to keep me calm despite the screams and wails I could hear in my head.Or perhaps it was just me, still recovering from the shock. Roman's voice broke through my fog, soft and tentative. "Do you need anything, Amy? Water? Another blanket?" His words were gentle, carefully constructed, as if speaking too loudly might shatter whatever fragile composure I was desperately trying to maintain.I turned my head slowly, mechanically, meeting his gaze. His eyes were rimmed with exhaustion and though I never saw it was obvious that he had cried. A concept that I'd never really associated with Roman up until that very moment.