Found You Again

Chapter Two

Ethan Caldwell didn’t believe in fate. It was just some fancy word romanticised by poets and mediocre individuals who could get nothing done for themselves. A gracious opportunity to conveniently turn an event of chance to purpose.

Yet when Sophie Bennett walked into his office that morning, he knew deep within him that it wasn’t a coincidence. Life had given him a chance to recover what he lost years ago.

Years of buried memories flooded his head, suffocating him in a way that his paperwork never could. Ten years worth of time had just caught up with him.

Now he sank into a chair at the edge of his penthouse office, arms resting on his pressed pants, his back to the shimmering skyline of Silver Bay- glass, towers and water. A paradox of hustle and peace.

The room was silent in the absence of her voice. She hadn’t recognized him. Not in the slightest. And why would she? The boy she’d kissed under a summer sky had been wild, brawny, restless and full of escape plans.

No money, no polish, no suit and certainly no composure. Just raw, restless hunger for a life that seemed impossibly far away.

That boy was gone. In his place stood a man carved from ambition and control, wrapped in custom suits and silence. A man trained to bury everything else and fulfill duty.

But at that moment, nothing else mattered.

“Sophie,” he said under his breath, as though testing to see if he still remembered her name.

She still tilted her head when she was thinking. Still had big dreams and the grit to act them out. Still commanded much awe, just like she had when she was younger.

He moved to his desk and tapped the glass edge, a nervous tic he’d buried years ago.

Ten years of discipline faded the moment he recognized her.

She had always glowed but she was brighter now, polished in ways she couldn’t have been at thirteen. Her passion had sharpened too, reflected in the bold critique she’d delivered earlier. The kind that’d make half his executives shift in their seats. And he’d listened, not just because she was right but because it reminded him of who she was, never afraid to say what needed to be said. And truthfully, somewhat amusing.

He reached for the leather notebook that sat beneath layers of contracts, proposals and reports. Between pages of writings only comprehensible to him was a photograph so worn the corners had curled.

A thirteen year old girl smiling beneath a paper lantern. Beside her, the boy he briefly was, shirtless, grinning, sunburned and free.

He hadn’t looked at it in years. It rekindled a flame that threatened to set ablaze his new world.

“Is this what it means to be free?” she’d once asked, sitting beside him on a dock, toes brushing the lake’s surface.

He hadn’t answered then. He couldn’t. Now that he was away from that life, the answer stared him down undeniably.

A chime from his desk interrupted his thoughts. “10:00PM. Call with Richard.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened. His father had an uncanny sense for stepping into moments he wanted to keep unsullied.

Richard Caldwell was the patriarch and strategist of the Caldwell empire and creator of Ethan’s world. He approved of power plays not sentiments. And Sophie Bennett was sentiment in its purest form.

He tapped the screen, bringing it to life

“Father,” he said, livelessly.

“You missed the merger briefing, Ethan.”

“I was occupied.”

“The designer?”

Ethan leaned back. “Yes. Her name is Sophie Bennett. She has… quite the ideas.”

There was a pause, then Richard spoke up. “Don’t get distracted. You know what’s at stake with Salient Tech.”

“I haven’t forgotten and this isn’t a distraction.”

Richard’s chuckle was low and humourless. “Anything’s a distraction if you let it.”

Ethan frowned as the call came to an end.

He sat there for a long moment, looking out over the clutter of buildings and people. While it held his gaze, memories of Sophie played vividly in his head. Their days together in the fields to the dock, her laughter riding the summer breeze as they ran for clear destination.

She had slipped a bracelet on his wrist, one of the two she had made. A symbol of their promise to never forget the other.

And he had kept the promise, just not in the way she’d meant. He’d remembered her even as he thought they could never be together. Even as he became the man who walked away.

He slid open an obscure compartment in his desk. The bracelet lay inside, threads faded and beads dull. A relic from a time when he believed he could choose his life for himself. But things were different now. He had the chance to be with her again and this time he wouldn’t let go. Not because he would drag her into the past, but because he intended to show her he was the same guy she fell in love with and that they could be together.

He picked up the design brief she’d left behind. Small handwritten letters lingered along the margins. Details she hadn’t said aloud but quietly sold her meticulous nature. His thumb brushed the paper. It had her smell too. She had always smelled of nature, of summer fields, but now it was different.

Ethan made an uninvited visit the next morning. The elevator doors slid open on the 53rd floor and he strode down the hall.

At the studio doors, he didn’t bother to knock, walking in like he owned the building

“Good morning,” he said smoothly.

Sophie froze mid-sketch, pencil poised in her hand. “Mr. Caldwell, what are you doing here?”

He smiled slightly. “Thought I’d see how the sparks were coming along.”

“You should have called.”

“Think of it as a stress test,” he said, moving closer. “Your résumé did say ‘thrive under pressure.’”

Today, he wasn’t wearing his usual suit. Instead, a dark green Ralph Lauren polo draped across his shoulders as smoothly as butter on toast. Cream pants paired with matching dark green Scarozzo loafers completed the look. A silver Tissot adorned his left wrist balanced by a silver bracelet on his right. He held a pair of sunglasses loosely in one hand, a subtle hint of the sunny city in contrast with the cool of the studio.

“You definitely didn’t come all the way here just to ‘stress test’ me,” Sophie said, folding her arms.

“You’re right. I didn’t ”

He reached into his pocket and drew out a black minimalist card. Its matte design, broken only by silver lettering. He held it out to her between two fingers.

She took it, brows knitting as she read:

Caldwell Foundation Charity Gala

Her gaze flicked back to his. “Is this—?”

“It’s your invitation,” he said. “The number on the back will verify it.”

She laughed, as if hoping it was a joke, then frowned when his expression didn’t change. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m fairly certain I explained it clearly.”

“No, I mean,” She lowered the card, voice quieter. “Why am I getting one?”

Without a word, he walked to the door. Just before stepping out, he turned to her as he slid on his sunglasses.

“Because you’re part of the story now.”