Chapter 5
988 Words
Weekend Plans and Unspoken Truths
By Friday afternoon, the office buzzed with weekend energy. People laughed, packed their desks, and exchanged plans. Even the fluorescent lights felt softer.
But for Alfred, Fridays had become the most dangerous day of the week.
Because Fridays meant one thing:
He might see Catherine outside work.
And outside work, he had fewer lies to hide behind.
He stood in the hallway waiting for the elevator when he heard her voice behind him.
“Alfred!”
He turned, unable to stop the warmth that spread through him at the sight of her. She walked toward him with that easy, gentle smile that always made him forget the weight of everything else.
“You’re leaving early today,” she said, falling in step beside him.
“Trying to beat traffic,” he replied with a small shrug.
“Hmm,” she said teasingly, “or maybe the chapati disaster traumatized you and you’re still recovering?”
He laughed—really laughed—and shook his head.
“I’ll have you know I’ve improved. Slightly.”
“Prove it,” she said lightly.
The elevator doors opened, and they stepped in alone.
“How?” he asked.
“Make chapati again. Send evidence.”
He raised a brow. “This is blackmail.”
“This is accountability,” she corrected, grinning.
Silence settled between them—warm, inviting, the kind that made the elevator feel smaller.
He glanced at her softly.
“Any weekend plans?”
“Not really,” she said. “I might go to the Saturday market. Maybe catch up on laundry. You?”
He hesitated.
He wanted to say:
I live in Ridgeview. Come visit. There’s a porch, and the sunset looks like melted gold. You’d love it.
But he couldn’t.
Not yet.
“Just a quiet weekend,” he answered.
She nodded, but something flickered in her eyes—curiosity? Disappointment?
Maybe both.
When the elevator doors opened, she walked beside him until they reached the parking lot.
“Well,” she said softly, “have a good one, Alfred.”
“You too, Catherine.”
She walked away, her silhouette framed by the warm afternoon sun. He watched her for a moment too long before getting into his car.
Two-Hour Drive, One Heavy Heart
The drive back to Ridgeview was supposed to be calming, but Alfred’s mind churned the entire way.
He wanted more time with her.
He wanted to tell her the truth.
He wanted to erase the line between the life he presented to her and the life he hid.
But the world he came from—the billion-dollar empire—was ruthless.
And love was a weakness to people like his father.
They would find her.
They would judge her.
They would dissect her background, her family, her lifestyle.
They would pressure him to choose legacy over love.
They always did.
So he stayed silent.
Because silence, for now, was the only protection he could offer her.
An Unexpected Visit
It was nearly sunset when he reached Ridgeview. The town smelled of roasted maize and fried samosas from the nearby market. Kids chased each other in the street, their laughter echoing through the neighbourhood.
He parked near his house—and froze.
On his porch was a woman he recognised too well.
Tall. Elegant. Wearing a tailored cream suit and heels that didn’t belong anywhere near Ridgeview’s dusty road.
Regina.
Board member.
Family loyalist.
Corporate hawk.
The worst possible person to find him there.
She smiled—sharp and cold.
“Good evening, Alfred.”
His stomach tightened.
“What are you doing here?” he asked calmly.
“I needed to speak with you urgently,” she replied, stepping forward. “And you’ve become impossible to pin down in the city.”
He clenched his jaw.
She had followed him.
“This isn’t appropriate,” he said. “This is my home.”
“Oh, trust me,” she said softly, “your family is very interested in your… living arrangements.”
Alfred inhaled slowly.
Danger.
This was a danger.
“I am allowed to live wherever I choose,” he said.
“Of course,” she replied smoothly. “But the board is nervous. You’re distracted. Missing dinners. Avoiding events. Hiding major decisions.”
Her gaze drifted over the small porch, the modest curtains, the simple potted plant by his door.
“And now we know why,” she said, her voice dripping with implication.
He stiffened.
“No. You don’t.”
Regina smiled—like a cat that had smelled something interesting.
“Alfred… who are you hiding out here?”
His pulse hammered.
Catherine flashed in his mind—her laugh, her kindness, her softness.
He felt an instinctive protectiveness rise in him like a wave.
“That’s none of your concern,” he said quietly.
Regina stepped closer.
“It becomes our concern if your… distractions affect the company.”
He said nothing.
Any wrong move would put Catherine in focus.
And Regina was the kind of woman who could trace a simple phone call to its origin in minutes.
She leaned in.
“Whatever—or whoever you’re involved with… I suggest you end it. Before it costs you your legacy.”
He stared at her—silent, expression neutral, fury controlled but simmering beneath the surface.
Regina walked past him, heels clicking on the wooden steps.
“Your father will hear of this,” she said casually. “Good night, Alfred.”
She left without another word.
Alfred stood frozen on the porch long after she drove away, fists clenched at his sides.
They were getting closer.
Too close.
And he knew exactly what he needed to do next.
Protect Catherine.
Even if it meant hiding more.
Even if it meant lying longer.
He looked out at the darkening street and whispered:
“No one touches her.”
- Writer
