🌸signed for his name🌺

He's back

Mr. Davis was polite. Too polite. He knocked before entering with her tray. He said “Good morning, Miss” and “Good night, Miss.” He checked the cameras every hour. He walked the perimeter at night with a flashlight. He never spoke unless she spoke first. But having him outside her door 24/7 made the house feel like a museum. Quiet. Cold. Watched.

Lola tried to keep busy. She read every book in the library. Twice. She reorganized the shelves by color. She called the hospital twice a day. Morning and night. Same nurse.

“He’s stable,” the nurse said on day 2. “Blood pressure is good. He keeps asking for you, you know.”

“I’ll come soon,” Lola promised. Her voice cracked. “I promise. Tell him I’m okay.”

“I will, dear.”

She even tried to cook once and almost set off the fire alarm. She wanted to make pasta like Elijah did. The smoke detector screamed for 10 minutes straight. Mr. Davis came running in with a fire extinguisher, face serious. Lola was so embarrassed with her burnt pot and smoke everywhere that she didn’t cook again. She just ate what was delivered.

The nights were the longest. The mansion was too big. Too quiet.

Every night at 11:43pm her phone buzzed. Like clockwork. Like he set an alarm.

Elijah: _You asleep?_

Lola: _No._

Elijah: _Good._

That was it. No "No. You are" again. No long talks. No "how are you". Just two words. But she waited for them. She started setting her own alarm for 11:40pm just to make sure she was awake. She’d hold the phone and watch the minutes tick by.

On the third day, the rain finally stopped. Sun came through the big glass windows and made everything look too bright. Too exposed.

Lola was in the library reading the same page over and over when she heard it. Tires on the gravel driveway. Slow. Then the heavy front door opening. Then footsteps in the hallway. Measured. Familiar.

Her heart jumped so hard it hurt. She didn’t run. She just stood up and closed her book and waited in the doorway, pretending she wasn’t waiting.

Elijah walked in 5 minutes later.

He looked the same but different. Black suit. White shirt. Tie loose around his neck like he’d been pulling at it. Dark circles under his eyes. Stubble on his jaw. Hair messy. Like he hadn’t slept on the flight. Like he hadn’t slept in days.

Mr. Davis nodded at him once from the stairs and went back to his post, silent.

Elijah saw her standing in the library doorway. He stopped walking. His eyes ran over her face, her arms, her bare feet, like he was checking if she was okay. Like he was checking if she was still there.

“You’re still here,” he said. His voice was rough. Tired.

Lola crossed her arms. “Where else would I be? The contract says I have to stay.”

Elijah dropped his briefcase on the floor with a loud thud. He looked exhausted. Really exhausted. Like the weight of the company was on his shoulders.

“Board meeting was hell,” he said. He loosened his tie completely and tossed it on a chair. “12 hours. Lawyers. Investors asking about the leak. No sleep. No food.”

Lola didn’t answer. She just looked at him. He looked human for once. Not Elijah Carter, CEO. Just a tired man.

He took a step closer. Then another. The smell of his cologne filled the space between them. Something expensive and clean.

“You didn’t call me,” he said quietly. Almost like an accusation. Almost like he was hurt.

“You said only for emergencies,” Lola replied. Her voice came out softer than she meant. “And I was fine. Mr. Davis was here.”

Elijah’s jaw tightened. His eyes flicked to the stairs where Davis was. “Talking to me isn’t an emergency?”

The air got heavy. The whole house was quiet. Even Mr. Davis didn’t move upstairs. The clock ticked loudly.

Lola shook her head. “No.”

Elijah stared at her for a long time. His eyes were dark. Tired. Searching. Then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up more.

“I’m going to shower,” he said finally. “And sleep. For 14 hours straight. Don’t let anyone wake me.”

He turned to go upstairs. Got to the second step. His shoulders were slumped.

Then he stopped.

“Did you eat?” he asked without turning around.

“Yes,” Lola lied. She had skipped lunch. Her stomach growled.

“Good,” Elijah said. And kept walking. His footsteps faded down the hall. A door closed softly.

Lola stood there alone in the library. The house felt different again. Less empty. Less scary. Like it could breathe now that he was back.

That night at 11:43pm, her phone didn’t buzz.

Lola waited. 11:50pm. 12:00am. 12:30am. 1:00am. Nothing.

She stared at the ceiling. She turned over. She checked if her phone was on silent. It wasn’t. She finally fell asleep at 2am, holding the phone to her chest like it would ring.

The next morning, there was a note on the kitchen counter. White paper. In Elijah’s sharp, rushed handwriting.

_Gone to office. Come if you want. Driver is outside. Don’t go alone. Don’t talk to press. -E_

Lola read it three times. Her fingers traced the E at the bottom. The ink was a little smudged, like he wrote it fast before leaving.

For the first time since she signed the contract, he was inviting her out. Not ordering. Not demanding. Inviting.

Outside, the sun was shining. The garden looked clean after the rain. And the black car with the driver was waiting by the front gate.

Lola picked up the note and folded it carefully. She put it in her pocket.

Maybe today wouldn’t be so quiet after all.