Chapter Eight
1013 Words
Andrew sat in his office at Haword & Co., the floor-to-ceiling windows stretching behind him like a portrait. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the city below. His desk was neat, organized, efficient, as if he had built every inch of his life to keep his mind from wandering to the past.
But nothing had stopped the memories lately.
Grace’s laughter.
Grace’s soft footsteps.
Grace’s smile on rainy mornings.
Three years had passed, and yet she lingered everywhere.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
Jerry, his assistant, stepped in, eyes wide with excitement and a little panic.
“Sir… you need to see this.” He held an iPad like it was an urgent file.
Andrew sighed. “Jerry, unless it’s something related to the acquisition, put it on my schedule.”
“No, this can’t wait,” Jerry insisted, stepping closer.
He tapped the screen, opening a video. A cheerful young woman appeared, holding her phone selfie-style in a warmly lit restaurant.
A social media influencer of whom Jerry was a huge fan of.
“Hey lovesss!” she sang into the camera. “It’s my last night here in Canada, and I’m having dinner at this cute place called Me to You Dinner! Honestly, best food I’ve had in Toronto!”
Andrew blinked, confused.
“What is this?” he asked. “Why are you showing me a food vlog? We are not in the restaurant business.”
“I know, boss,” Jerry said breathlessly. “Just, look closely.”
He rewound the video and pressed play again.
The influencer chatted excitedly, shaking her curls, showing off her plate. The restaurant’s background came into view, waiters moving, customers laughing, the soft clatter of silverware.
And then
A familiar figure walked right past the influencer’s shoulder.
A woman. Apron tied neatly around her waist. Her hair pulled into a simple bun. Her face turned slightly to the side.
Grace.
Andrew froze.
His heart slammed against his ribs.
He leaned closer, gripping the tablet. “No…” His voice was barely a whisper. “It—can’t be…” Canada?
Jerry said nothing. He didn’t need to.
Andrew replayed the clip.
Then again.
And again.
Three years of searching.
Three years of silence.
Three years of emptiness.
And now she appeared casually in the background of a stranger’s video, as if fate had been waiting for the perfect moment to punch him in the chest.
His breath shook as he raised a hand to cover his mouth. His eyes stung, but he blinked it away.
“It’s her,” he whispered. “It’s really her…”
Jerry, unable to contain himself, finally said, “Are you going to keep playing that video? Or are you going to go get your woman?”
Andrew slowly lowered the tablet.
“There’s someone I need to see first,” he said.
And with that, he stood and walked out.
***
When Andrew stepped outside, the wind hit his face, sharp and cold. But he felt oddly alive, as if something had awakened in him.
He drove straight to Howard Luxe Hotel.
His father’s masterpiece.
The crown jewel of the Howard name.
Bill Howard had built the hotel from the ground up, thirty floors of luxury, elegance, and legacy. Chandeliers imported from Italy. Marble floors sourced from Turkey. A rooftop lounge that had hosted presidents and movie stars.
When Bill died, he left the entire empire to Andrew.
And Andrew appointed James COO, Andrew’s right-hand man. The one Andrew trusted most. The one who handled internal decisions while Andrew shaped the company’s global vision.
But trust had become a fragile thing in the years since Grace disappeared.
As Andrew’s car pulled into the grand circular driveway of Howard Luxe, heads immediately turned.
Whispers spread through the staff like electricity.
“The Chairman is here.”
“He never comes on Tuesdays…”
Andrew barely heard them. His stride was long and sharp as he crossed the gleaming marble lobby. Managers straightened their ties. Receptionists stood a little taller. Housekeepers paused mid-step.
He walked directly to the private elevator.
Straight to James.
The doors opened on the executive floor, and Andrew moved down the hallway with purpose. His pulse hammered. His chest felt tight. Not from fear, but from a storm of emotion finally breaking.
He pushed open the door to James’s office.
James looked up from a stack of reports, surprised. “Andrew? You’re never here on a Tuesday. What’s…”
Andrew didn’t let him finish.
His voice was quiet, steady, and full of something that made James straighten instantly.
“I found Grace.”
James blinked. “What…?”
Andrew stepped closer, eyes locked on him.
“I found my wife,” he said. “Grace. She’s alive. She’s in Canada.”
And the room fell silent.
His eyes locked on James, who shifted nervously behind his desk, unsure whether to rise or stay seated. Andrew’s voice was calm but firm, carrying the weight of years spent in silence and confusion.
“I’m here, James,” Andrew began, each word deliberate, “I want to give you one last chance to tell the truth before I go after my wife.”
James’ eyes widened slightly, and he opened his mouth, only to close it again.
Andrew continued, stepping closer, his gaze unwavering. “But that’s not all,” he added, his tone softening just a fraction. “There’s another reason I’m here. I need to know more… more than what I’ve been told over the years. I need to understand everything before I stand in front of Grace for the first time in years. Every omission, every half-truth, every lie, it matters. And I need it from you.”
James swallowed, his composure faltering as Andrew’s steady presence filled the room. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken memories, regrets, and the anticipation of revelations that could finally bring clarity to the chaos of their past.
And as he looks at his brother, he fears that things would never be the same again.
- Writer
