Chapter 6
1321 Words
Raina’s POV
The deal was set.
Clean. Controlled. Measured.
One month.
It sounded simple when spoken out loud.
Like a clause in a contract.
Like something that could be contained.
But life didn’t pause to acknowledge it.
It didn’t dim the lights or soften the edges.
It just… kept moving.
And so did I.
Monday arrived without ceremony.
No emotional weight.
No hesitation.
Just time, marching forward like it always does.
Unbothered by human decisions.
At exactly 6:50 a.m., I stepped into the executive wellness suite on the 38th floor of Grant Global.
Glass walls.
Steel edges.
Muted tones designed to soothe people who never truly rested.
This wasn’t a hospital.
It wasn’t even a proper clinic.
It was a curated space.
A polished extension of Harrison Grant’s empire, built for efficiency rather than care. A place where exhaustion was treated like a minor inconvenience, and vulnerability was scheduled between meetings.
I placed my tablet on the counter.
Powered on the systems.
Prepared the equipment.
Blood pressure monitor.
ECG reader.
Clearance forms for executive flights.
Everything aligned.
Everything predictable.
Everything… safe.
Routine had always been my shield.
Until the door opened.
I didn’t need to turn.
Didn’t need to look.
I felt it.
That shift in the air.
That quiet awareness that settled under my skin.
Him.
Still… him.
When I finally raised my eyes…
There he was.
Harrison Grant.
Tailored suit cut with surgical precision. Dark tie anchored perfectly at his collar. His presence filled the room before he even took a step forward.
Power wasn’t something he displayed.
It was something he carried.
Like gravity.
And behind him…
Sophie.
Moving quickly to keep up, her heels clicking lightly against the floor, her breath slightly uneven as she adjusted her grip on her tablet and travel documents.
Close.
Too close.
Like they had already found a rhythm I was no longer part of.
“Good morning, Mr. Grant,” Chris chimed brightly, her voice laced with curiosity she didn’t bother hiding.
Her gaze flicked between them.
Then toward me.
A silent question.
A hundred unspoken assumptions.
I didn’t respond.
Didn’t react.
Just slipped on my gloves.
“Mr. Grant,” I said evenly, “please proceed to the examination area for pre-flight clearance.”
Professional.
Neutral.
Distant.
For a brief second…
Our eyes met.
Something flickered.
Recognition.
Something softer… almost hesitant.
Then it vanished.
Like it had never existed.
He walked toward me.
Not as my husband.
Not as anything personal.
Just a CEO completing a routine check.
Good.
That made things easier.
Standing in front of him, I reached up and unfastened the top button of his shirt.
My fingers were steady.
Practiced.
Detached.
The fabric shifted slightly beneath my touch.
And then…
I saw it.
His initials.
H.G.
Stitched cleanly into the inner seam.
Perfect.
Precise.
Something I had once spent an entire evening doing myself.
Back when I believed details like that meant something.
Back when I thought care could be measured in quiet effort.
Now…
It just looked like thread.
My gaze dropped slightly.
And that’s when I noticed it.
A scent.
Faint… but unmistakable.
Soft. Sweet. Lingering.
Not mine.
Sophie.
It clung to him like something that didn’t belong to me anymore.
My fingers didn’t tremble.
Didn’t hesitate.
I wrapped the cuff around his arm.
Secured it.
Lifted the stethoscope.
“Vitals assessment,” I said calmly. “Breathe normally.”
We stood close.
Closer than we had been in days.
Close enough to hear the steady rhythm of his heart.
Close enough for him to catch the faint citrus note of my perfume.
For a moment…
Memory slipped in.
Uninvited.
My first day here.
My hands shaking.
My voice catching on every word.
He had been my first executive clearance.
And I had been terrified.
“Heart rate… normal,” I had whispered, avoiding his gaze. “Blood pressure… stable…”
He had watched me.
Amused.
Calm.
Unreachable.
“Is that all?” he had asked quietly. “You’re not going to double-check?”
I had panicked for half a second… then laughed.
Soft.
Embarrassed.
Happy.
Back then… it had been enough.
Everything had been enough.
Now…
“Heart rate normal. Blood pressure stable. Cleared for travel.”
My voice was steady.
Flat.
Unshaken.
I stepped back.
And the moment I did…
Pain shot through my ankle.
Sharp.
Quick.
Unforgiving.
A reminder.
His gaze dropped instantly.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
His jaw tightened.
A flicker of something passed through his expression…
Concern?
Restraint?
Regret?
I didn’t wait to find out.
Because he didn’t say anything.
Not a single word.
He picked up his briefcase.
Turned.
And walked out.
No pause.
No acknowledgment.
No glance back.
Just absence.
Clean.
Complete.
Like whatever we had didn’t exist in this room.
“Raina…” Chris leaned in the second the door shut, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You saw that, right? The way he came in with her? And the way he looked at you?”
I didn’t respond.
Didn’t entertain it.
“We’re not here to analyze executives,” I said calmly, flipping through the next file. “Call Sophie in.”
Chris sighed dramatically but complied.
A moment later…
Sophie entered.
Soft steps.
Measured breathing.
Carefully composed.
“Thank you for seeing me, Miss West,” she said gently.
Her voice carried that familiar fragility.
Like something that could break if handled incorrectly.
“Standard procedure,” I replied.
Pen moving.
Eyes down.
Controlled.
Until…
“Could you recommend something for nausea?” she asked, hesitating slightly.
I looked up.
Her hand rested lightly over her abdomen.
Protective.
Intentional.
A quiet declaration.
“With my condition,” she continued softly, “I’d prefer to avoid another incident. I don’t want Harrison worrying again.”
Of course.
Everything circled back to him.
It always did.
“This department doesn’t prescribe for pregnancy-related symptoms,” I said evenly. “You’ll need to consult a hospital.”
A pause.
Then, deliberately…
“You should also report your condition,” I added. “Frequent travel carries risk. Temporary leave would be safer.”
She hesitated.
Just long enough.
“I’m being considered for promotion,” she said quietly. “If I step away now… it might disappear.”
Then…
That smile.
Small.
Gentle.
Strategic.
“Harrison has already adjusted my schedule,” she added. “Shorter routes. Less strain. He said he’d handle it.”
Of course he did.
I closed the file.
“Then follow your decision.”
Professional.
Final.
I reached for the next document.
But suddenly…
Her hand wrapped around my wrist.
Warm.
Unexpected.
I stilled.
“Miss West…” she said softly. “Please don’t misunderstand Harrison.”
I looked at her.
Fully.
Clearly.
“I know he seems distant,” she continued, “but he’s actually very kind… once you understand him.”
Kind.
The word echoed strangely.
Then…
She did something I didn’t expect.
She unfastened the top button of her blouse.
Carefully.
Revealing a small charm pinned inside.
Delicate.
Shimmering.
“He gave me this before my first trip,” she said, her fingers brushing over it gently. “He said it would keep me safe.”
Her smile softened.
“He’s more thoughtful than people think,” she added. “He just doesn’t show it openly.”
Something inside me went very still.
Not broken.
Not hurt.
Just… finished.
Then she looked at me again.
Gentle.
Almost sympathetic.
“Do you want me to speak to him?” she asked. “I could ask him to treat you better.”
For a moment…
The world dulled.
Sound softened.
Edges blurred.
Like I had stepped outside of everything and was watching it from a distance.
Then…
I smiled.
Not warm.
Not cold.
Just empty.
And slowly…
I removed my hand from hers.
Like I was removing the last piece of something that no longer belonged to me.
- Writer
