Chapter 10
1243 Words
Raina’s POV
The lawyer’s office smelled like polished wood and final decisions.
Not loud ones.
Not dramatic ones.
Just… quiet endings.
Ink on paper.
Signatures waiting.
Lives shifting in silence.
By the time I stepped back out into the city, the sky had already begun softening into late afternoon gold. The kind of light that made everything look warmer than it actually was.
I stood there for a moment longer than necessary.
My fingers still curled loosely around the file in my bag.
Divorce.
The word no longer trembled inside me.
It sat there.
Still.
Heavy.
Real.
The boutique I chose for Grandma Noelle’s gift was tucked into a quieter street, far from the sharp edges of corporate steel and glass.
Soft lighting.
Muted music.
Everything calm… intentional.
Unlike my life.
I took my time.
Not because I didn’t know what to get.
But because… this mattered.
She mattered.
In a world where everything had slowly slipped away, Noelle Grant had been the only person who held on to me without conditions.
Not because of obligation.
Not because of family reputation.
Just… because she cared.
And that kind of affection?
It was rare enough to be sacred.
I finally chose something elegant. Thoughtful. Something that would make her smile in that quiet, knowing way she always did.
The sales associate wrapped it carefully, like it was something fragile.
Maybe it was.
My phone buzzed just as I stepped outside.
Lily.
I answered immediately.
“What’s wrong?”
“Raina, where are you?!” Her voice came through fast, breathless, already on the edge of panic. “Get back here now! The executives are doing a surprise inspection. I can’t hold this down much longer!”
I frowned.
Surprise inspection?
That didn’t happen.
Not here.
Not at Grant Global.
Everything in Harrison’s world ran on precision, schedules, control.
Nothing was spontaneous.
Unless…
My grip tightened slightly on my phone.
“I’m on my way,” I said, already stepping toward the road.
Cars blurred past.
Too fast.
Too full.
None stopping.
And then…
Noise.
Sharp.
Urgent.
“Someone collapsed!”
“Move! Move!”
“Oh God, he’s not breathing properly!”
The sound cut through the street like a crack in glass.
I froze.
Just for a second.
Then forced myself forward.
Not my responsibility.
There were people.
Crowds.
Phones already out.
Someone would handle it.
They always did.
Right?
“…someone his age shouldn’t even be alone like this.”
“What kind of children leave their father to wander the streets?”
The words hit differently.
Not loud.
But pointed.
And suddenly…
I couldn’t move forward anymore.
Because I knew that feeling.
Being left.
Being… forgotten.
My jaw tightened.
And before my mind could argue…
I turned.
“Excuse me! Move!”
My voice cut sharper than expected as I pushed through the crowd.
“I’m a medic. Give me space.”
The circle broke reluctantly.
And there he was.
An elderly man.
Fragile.
Collapsed against the pavement like something life had already started pulling away from.
His skin was pale.
Lips tinged with blue.
Breath shallow.
Wrong.
Everything about it was wrong.
My body moved before my thoughts caught up.
Kneeling.
Checking pulse.
Positioning.
“Sir, can you hear me?”
No response.
“Call emergency services if you haven’t already!” I snapped over my shoulder.
My hands pressed down against his chest.
One.
Two.
Three.
Steady.
Precise.
Alive.
Stay alive.
Five minutes stretched like an eternity stitched together with urgency and sweat.
Then…
A shift.
Subtle.
But there.
Color returning.
Breath stabilizing.
The crowd exhaled like they had been holding it all along.
Sirens cut through the distance.
Paramedics rushed in.
Efficient.
Professional.
One of them glanced at me.
“You kept him alive,” he said. “Another minute and we’d have lost him.”
I nodded once.
But something inside me… didn’t feel victorious.
Just… quiet.
Because for a moment…
I had remembered who I used to be.
And what I had given up.
My phone buzzed again.
Lily.
“Raina, I’m serious, I can’t stall anymore!”
“I’m coming,” I said, already moving.
This time…
I ran.
The air changed the moment I stepped inside.
Colder.
Sharper.
Watching.
I walked straight into the medical suite…
…and straight into him.
Harrison stood at the center of the room like the axis everything rotated around.
Dark suit.
Impeccable.
Untouchable.
But today?
Anger sat on him like a second shadow.
The room felt it.
Everyone did.
“Miss West, finally,” the department head rushed forward, tension dripping from every movement. “Where were you?”
“I had an urgent matter,” I replied calmly.
“What if there had been a medical emergency?” he pressed.
There had been.
I just didn’t say it.
“I’ll accept whatever consequence is deemed appropriate.”
Silence.
Then…
Harrison stepped forward.
Slow.
Measured.
Dangerous.
“Abandoning your post,” he said, voice low enough to make the air tighten, “violating company discipline… you’ll forfeit this month’s salary and bonus.”
The words landed clean.
Cold.
Final.
“I understand,” I said.
No argument.
No explanation.
No defense.
Just acceptance.
And that…
That made it worse.
I saw it.
The flicker in his expression.
Something darker.
Something unsettled.
Why wasn’t I pushing back?
Why wasn’t I asking for leniency?
Why wasn’t I… reacting?
“Then it’s settled,” he said sharply.
And just like that…
He turned and walked out.
The door slammed behind him like punctuation.
The room slowly exhaled.
But the tension didn’t fully leave.
It lingered.
In glances.
In silence.
In the quiet shift of how people looked at me now.
Not with sympathy.
Not even curiosity.
Just…
distance.
Harrison’s POV
The night tasted like whiskey and unfinished thoughts.
The celebration had been loud.
Successful.
Exactly what it was supposed to be.
And yet…
I remembered none of it.
Not clearly.
Just fragments.
Voices.
Laughter.
Glass against glass.
And underneath it all…
Her.
That calm.
That silence.
That absence.
The apartment door shut behind me with a dull click.
Too quiet.
Too still.
Wrong.
I shrugged off my coat.
Didn’t bother with the lights.
Just moved.
Out of habit.
Out of memory.
Until…
I dropped onto the couch.
The room tilted slightly.
Or maybe it was just me.
I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand across my face.
“Tch…”
And then…
Without thinking…
“Raina,” I muttered.
My voice sounded unfamiliar.
Rough.
Unsteady.
“Where’s my hangover soup?”
Silence answered.
Of course it did.
Because she wasn’t here.
Hadn’t been.
Wouldn’t be.
Memory slipped in anyway.
Uninvited.
Persistent.
Nights when I came home like this…
She would be there.
Always.
Half asleep.
Hair loose.
Eyes soft but stubborn.
“You need to drink this,” she’d insist, pushing the bowl into my hands.
“It tastes terrible,” I’d complain.
“Drink it anyway.”
And I always did.
Not because of the soup.
But because of her.
Now?
Nothing.
Just empty space where something used to exist.
I leaned back, arm falling over my eyes.
A quiet laugh escaped.
Dry.
Bitter.
Unfamiliar.
“Raina…”
My voice dropped softer this time.
Not a command.
Not even expectation.
Just…
something close to need.
“I want… your soup.”
The words dissolved into the silence.
And for the first time…
It didn’t feel like she would come back to answer.
- Writer
