Chapter 8
800 Words
A HEART IN HIDING
Catherine didn’t remember how she got home.
She only remembered the cold night air, the blur of streetlights, and the sound of her own heartbeat pounding like footsteps chasing her. She unlocked the door to her small apartment, walked inside, and collapsed onto the couch, numb.
Alfred Mureithi.
Not Alfred the kind, soft-spoken man she’d grown to trust.
Not Alfred the one who made tea poorly but tried anyway.
Not Alfred the man who said she was enough.
But Alfred Mureithi — billionaire, CEO, heir to an empire… and the man who lied.
She buried her face in her hands.
How could she have missed it? The guarded answers. The expensive watch. His mysterious “manager job.” His trips to the city. The polished way he carried himself. She thought it was charm—
but it was training.
And that woman…
His mother.
Catherine felt heat rise behind her eyes. She blinked hard, refusing to break.
She had promised herself she would never let anyone make her feel small. Not again.
And tonight, everything she’d climbed out from—every insecurity, every scar, every memory of being dismissed, judged, underestimated—came crashing back.
The doorbell rang.
Her breath hitched.
Only one person could be desperate enough to show up immediately.
She didn’t move.
The bell rang again.
Then a knock.
“Catherine,” Alfred’s voice came through the door—strained, raw. “Please open the door. I just want to talk.”
She shut her eyes.
He didn’t deserve silence, but she wasn’t sure she could speak without breaking.
“Catherine, I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have told you everything. I was wrong.”
She stayed still, listening.
“I was afraid,” he continued. “Afraid you’d treat me differently. Afraid my life would poison what we had. Afraid you’d walk away.”
His voice cracked.
“But losing you like this is… worse than anything I imagined.”
Catherine leaned her head against the back of the couch.
It hurt to hear the pain she felt mirrored in his voice.
But hurt didn’t erase lies.
“Please,” he whispered, “just let me explain.”
After a moment of silence, she forced her voice to steady.
“You lied, Alfred.”
There was a pause outside the door.
“I know,” he said. “And I hate myself for it.”
Catherine stood, walked slowly to the door, and rested her hand on the handle—
but didn’t open it.
“You could have trusted me,” she said softly.
“I wanted to,” he replied. “Every day. But every time I tried, I… panicked. My family, the board—they judge everyone. They judge me. What they would have done if they knew about us…” He exhaled shakily. “I wanted to protect you.”
She closed her eyes.
“By lying to me?”
Silence.
He didn’t have an answer.
After a moment, his voice came again, small and defeated:
“I’m not asking you to forgive me now. I just… need you to know I never meant to hurt you. You are the best thing that has happened to me in years.”
Her chest tightened painfully.
She whispered, barely audible:
“Goodnight, Alfred.”
She heard him exhale—a broken sound.
Then footsteps slowly moved away.
A long pause.
Then nothing.
Catherine slid down against the door until she was sitting on the floor, hugging her knees.
For the first time since she met him, she felt completely alone.
THE NEXT MORNING
Catherine woke up on the couch with her eyes swollen and her heart exhausted. She dragged herself into the kitchen and made coffee she barely tasted. She had barely slept.
When she finally checked her phone, she saw dozens of unread messages.
Alfred:
I’m sorry.
Please talk to me.
You deserve the truth. All of it.
I’m ready to tell you everything you want to know.
Catherine, please. I need you.
She kept scrolling until the most recent message froze her breath.
Alfred:
They’re calling an emergency board meeting today. Someone told them I’m hiding something. I think they’re planning something big.
But I don’t care about any of that right now. I just need to fix things with you.
Catherine stared at the message.
Was this her problem? No.
Did she still care?
That was the part that hurt.
Before she could think too long, her phone buzzed again.
Not Alfred.
Her supervisor.
Hi Catherine, please come to the Nairobi headquarters today. HR has requested to see you. No details given.
Her blood ran cold.
HR?
From headquarters?
Because of what?
What had Alfred’s mother done?
Suddenly, the night before felt like only the beginning.
- Writer
