005: Let Her Go

“I’ve never seen this person before.” Elodie smiled bitterly as Williams' words replayed over and over in her head.

"You deserved that and more, Elodie," she told herself.

As she made her way home, she recalled how she was misdiagnosed of cancer three years ago and told that she had less than a year to live.

She remembered how hard she fought to get a divorce from Bryce, and the betrayal of her uncle, Greg Richards, which left her cheated and without a penny.

Life had become much harder since then. Now, she scraped by, living paycheck to paycheck, her once grand aspirations replaced by the desperate need to survive.

"None of this compares to the pain I caused Williams," she told herself. "It's a good thing he's found someone who makes his happy."

When she finally reached her tiny apartment, she collapsed onto the sagging bed, staring at the cracked ceiling. Memories came rushing back—the laughter she and Williams had shared, his earnest dreams. Now, someone else had restored what she had broken.

By morning, her body ached from exhaustion, but she forced herself to get ready. Today was critical. If she didn’t get paid for her shift at the bar, she wouldn’t have enough to complete her rent. The thought of being homeless loomed over her like a storm cloud.

The bar was already alive with noise when Elodie arrived. She tied her apron around her waist, brushing off her fatigue. The sharp voice of her boss snapped her out of her daze. “Elodie! Table three’s waiting! Move!”

“Yes, sir.” She dove into the rhythm of work, her body moving mechanically as she served drinks and wiped down tables.

The hours passed in a blur until the door swung open, letting in a rush of cold air. A group of sharply dressed men strolled in, their laughter loud and commanding. Elodie froze.

At the center of the group stood Williams.

Her heart faltered, but she quickly turned away, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand.

As she set a tray down, a hand clamped around her wrist. “Elodie.”

She tensed. It wasn’t Williams. It was Sam—her boss’s brother and a man she’d learned to avoid. His greasy smile made her skin crawl, and the way he leaned closer sent a shiver of disgust down her spine.

“Sir, I’m busy,” she said, trying to keep her tone neutral.

“You always are,” he replied, his grip tightening. “But you’re never too busy for me, are you?”

Her stomach churned. “Let go. I need to get back to work.”

Sam’s smile widened as he let her go, but the look in his eyes promised trouble.

An hour later, Sam cornered her near the storeroom. “Hey, Elodie, come help me with something in the back.”

She hesitated. “I can’t, sir, I’m still serving tables.”

“Come on,” he said, his tone sharp now. “You wouldn’t want me telling your boss you’re slacking off, would you?”

Her jaw tightened. She needed this job. Without it, she would be kicked out of her house.

Reluctantly, she followed him to the back of the dimly lit room, where the noise of the bar faded into a muffled hum. Sam closed the door behind them and turned, holding out a glass.

“Drink with me,” he said, his tone light but his eyes dark.

“No, thank you,” she replied, stepping back.

“Don’t be shy,” he said, closing the distance between them.

“I said no, sir,” she repeated, her voice firmer now.

His smile disappeared, replaced by a menacing glare. “You think you’re too good for me? You think you can just brush me off?”

She turned to leave the room, but he grabbed her arm, forcing the glass into her hand. “Drink it,” he ordered, his voice low and dangerous.

“No! Let go of me!” she yelled, struggling against his grip.

But he was stronger. He forced the glass to her lips, and the bitter liquid burned as it slid down her throat. She coughed, managing to shove him away, but the damage was done. Suddenly, her vision blurred, and her legs wobbled.

Sam’s laughter echoed in the room. “There we go. Not so tough now, are you?”

“Leave me alone,” she said, her voice shaky as she tried to back away.

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” he sneered, grabbing her waist and pulling her closer.

“Get your hands off me!” she screamed, pushing him with all her strength, but her limbs felt heavy, her movements sluggish.

Suddenly, the door was kicked open and a new voice cut through the tension like a blade.

“Let her go!”

The single command carried a weight that made the hairs on the back of Elodie's neck stand up.

She turned her head and saw him—Williams.

Sam froze, his grip loosening as he turned to face the new arrival. “Williams! I didn’t know you were here!”

Williams stepped into the room, his gaze cold.

“She’s just a waitress,” Sam said, trying to laugh it off. “Why do you care?”

Williams didn’t answer. Instead, he took another step closer, his presence commanding. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

Sam hesitated before finally releasing Elodie. She stumbled back, her vision blurring slightly, but she held onto the wall for support.

Williams’ eyes flicked to her briefly, his expression unreadable, before returning to Sam. “You’ve crossed a line,” he said, his voice dangerously calm.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Sam stammered.

Williams didn’t respond. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I’m making one call. After that, you’ll wish this was only about what it looks like.”

Sam’s face paled. “Williams, come on. We’re friends—”

“We’re not friends,” Williams cut him off, his tone icy.

Sam opened his mouth to argue, but the words died on his lips when Williams took a step forward, his gaze like steel. “Get out of my sight. Now.”

Sam didn’t need to be told twice. He bolted, leaving the room in tense silence.

Elodie’s legs gave out, and she sank to the floor, her breath coming in short gasps. Williams turned to her, his expression softening slightly as he crouched beside her.

“Elodie,” he said, his voice quieter now.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and filled with tears. For a moment, she saw a flicker of the Williams she had once known......the man who had loved her with everything he had.