Beyond the Vows

CHAPTER 3

The drive back to her mother’s house was slow and quiet. Hannah sat beside her mum in the backseat, her hand resting protectively over the frail fingers that trembled lightly in her own. Every street they passed seemed to stretch longer than it should, as though the world itself conspired to make this moment heavier.

Her mother leaned her head back against the cushion, eyes half closed, her breathing soft but shallow. Hannah swallowed the knot in her throat. No matter how many times the doctors reassured her that things were stable for now, it never felt enough.

When they finally turned into the familiar driveway, Hannah’s chest tightened with relief. Home. At least here, her mum could rest better than she ever could in the hospital’s sterile walls.

Standing at the doorway was Sophie, a young woman in her early thirties, with kind hazel eyes and chestnut hair tied neatly into a bun; her mom's trusted caregiver.

Sophie greeted them with a gentle smile, her arms open as though she were welcoming family.

“Mrs. Lewis,” she said softly, stepping forward. “Welcome home.”

Hannah’s mother gave a tired but genuine smile, squeezing her daughter’s hand before Sophie helped her carefully into the house.

Inside, Sophie had already prepared everything. The living room smelled faintly of lavender; the curtains were drawn just enough to let in soft daylight. A tray of neatly folded blankets sat on the couch, and beside the bed in the master room was a small wooden table with water, medication, and tissues lined in precise order.

“You’ve done so much,” Hannah said after her mother had been settled. She turned to Sophie, her voice low but heavy with gratitude. “Thank you, Sophie. For being here. For doing this. I trust you completely.”

Sophie touched her arm reassuringly. “You don’t have to thank me, Hannah. Your mother is already dear to me, and I promise to care for her as if she were my own. You focus on your work and your own life. She’ll be safe with me.”

Those words, simple as they were, lifted a part of the weight from Hannah’s shoulders. Still, her eyes misted, and she pulled Sophie briefly into a hug before excusing herself.

That evening, when she finally drove back to her own home, exhaustion pressed down on her like a storm. Yet, when she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, sleep refused to come.

Ethan’s face lingered in her thoughts.

The sound of his laugh, the softness in his eyes when he had once told her he would always stand by her, the way his presence used to steady her heartbeat;everything returned in waves she could not hold back. She turned on her side, squeezing her pillow as though it could absorb the ache in her chest.

But he was gone and no matter how many times she told herself to move on, her heart betrayed her with every memory.

By morning, she had barely slept. Her alarm clock dragged her out of a shallow doze, and she lay there for a long while, dreading the day. Because today wasn’t just any workday,it was Monday , which meant meetings, which meant Ethan.

Her body moved through the motions automatically: shower, coffee, neatly pressed blouse, heels that clicked on the hardwood floor. But her mind was restless, every thought circling back to one truth; she would have to face him.

At Aurora Consulting, where Hannah worked as one of the top tier consultants, Mondays were always dense with strategy sessions. She wasn’t the owner of the company, but she had risen to become one of their most trusted voices. Her skill in negotiations and ability to forecast business outcomes had made her indispensable.

And that was why she was so often placed side by side with Ethan Thompson

His company, Thomwell Holdings was not just Aurora’s most prestigious client but also their closest collaborator. Together, they handled high stakes ventures that shaped industries. Hannah had been chosen countless times to lead projects with him, not only because she was good, but because she was the best.

Which meant she couldn’t avoid him. No matter how much her heart begged for escape, professionalism demanded otherwise.

The drive to the office felt shorter than usual, as though time itself wanted to hurry her toward the inevitable.

Inside the sleek, glass walled building, colleagues greeted her warmly. She smiled, nodded, exchanged brief words, but her mind was far away. Her heels clicked steadily down the hallway as she made her way toward the boardroom.

Her chest tightened with every step.

By the time se arrived at the door, her palms had gone clammy. She pressed them against the sides of her skirt, inhaled deeply, and forced herself to stand taller. She could do this. She had done harder things before.

Inside, the boardroom buzzed softly with conversation. Members of both Aurora and Thompson Holdings filled the seats, papers shuffling, laptops opening. Hannah slid into her chair, keeping her gaze fixed on her notes, trying to steady the rapid beat of her heart.

Trying by all means to think of all other things than Ethan,she could hear her own heart beat at the moment.

The meeting hadn’t started yet.

The door opened.

And then he walked in....

The conference room doors slid open, and for a brief moment, time seemed to slow. Ethan Thompson stood framed in the doorway, an imposing figure that drew every eye without effort. His dark hair, thick and meticulously styled, caught the light at the edges, hinting at a sheen that spoke of effortless refinement. His jaw was sharp, sculpted, with a hint of stubble that added both danger and allure to his presence.

Ethan’s eyes, a stormy shade of gray, swept the room with quiet authority, sharp enough to command attention but tempered with an intensity that suggested he noticed every detail.

He moved with the kind of confidence only someone accustomed to power and influence could possess. Each step was deliberate, measured, radiating control. His shoulders were broad, posture impeccable, exuding the effortless elegance of a man who had mastered every room he entered. The tailored navy blazer clung to him in all the right places, sleeves rolled just so, revealing a hint of a wrist tattoo.

Even the smallest details spoke volumes: the glint of his watch, the calm precision in the set of his hands, the quiet authority in the way he exhaled as if he owned every corner of the room. Ethan Thompson was the living embodiment of success: brilliant, powerful, magnetic. Every aspect of him screamed wealth, refinement, and danger, a combination that made it impossible for anyone, especially Hannah, to ignore his presence.

The conference room fell into a respectful silence the moment Ethan stepped inside. His gaze swept briefly across the table before he took his seat at the head.

The meeting commenced almost immediately. Ethan’s voice was calm but authoritative as he outlined the agenda for the morning. The directors listened intently, nodding at intervals as he highlighted expansion efforts into European markets and the company’s upcoming merger discussions.

One by one, the board members shared their updates, finance, logistics, and marketing. Each spoke with confidence, but it was clear who carried the most weight in the room.

Then came the inevitable.