CHAPTER 19
2189 Words
After finishing my coffee and forcing down a few bites of the sandwich Beatrice left, I decided I needed some air—or at least a change of scenery. The stress was starting to make my office feel like a prison cell, and the walls were beginning to close in on me.
I loosened my tie, left my blazer on the coat rack, and stepped out into the hallway.
I didn’t really know where I was going until I found myself walking toward the far end of the building, down a quiet corridor most of the corporate employees wouldn’t dare venture into. This area was reserved for janitorial storage, maintenance tools, and… naps. Yeah, my cleaners had a bad habit of catching naps between shifts. I let it slide. I wasn’t that heartless.
I stopped in front of a small utility closet. The door was slightly ajar, and I could already hear faint humming—off-tune, but enthusiastic.
When I pushed the door open fully, there he was.
Daphne.
He was seated on an upside-down mop bucket, snacking on something wrapped in foil while scrolling through his phone. When he looked up and saw me, his entire posture changed like someone flipped a switch.
“Sir!” he said, standing up immediately with a dramatic gasp. “What a surprise! I mean, wow—what brings you to this part of the kingdom? Lost your crown or something?”
I raised a brow. “Good to see you too, Daphne.”
He placed a hand on his chest, batting his lashes. “You know, if you keep dropping by like this, people might start to think we’re friends.”
“Let’s not get carried away,” I muttered, cracking a tired smile.
He chuckled, then motioned to the bucket. “You want the seat, or should I keep the throne?”
“I’m good standing,” I said, stepping further in. “I actually came to talk to you about Maurice.”
At the mention of her name, I noticed a flicker of tension cross his expression. He sat down again, slower this time, and gave me a thoughtful look.
“Maurice Miranda…” he echoed, like he was tasting the name. “She hasn’t exactly been your favorite topic lately.”
“I know,” I admitted. “But things have changed. I need to talk to her. I was hoping you might know where I could find her.”
He frowned and looked down at his foil-wrapped snack, now forgotten in his hands.
“I don’t know where she is,” he said softly, his usual sass replaced with something more sincere. “She’s… going through a lot right now, sir. After she got fired, she was really frustrated. Her mom’s unemployed, and her little brother—he’s just five, and he’s not even talking. Trauma, they said.”
I blinked. The words hit harder than I expected. My jaw tightened, and I felt something uncomfortable in my chest. Guilt, maybe?
I had no idea things were that bad.
“I didn’t know…” I muttered.
“Well, yeah,” Daphne said with a raised brow. “Not everyone gets to sip espresso in a leather chair while the world burns, sir.”
I almost laughed, but it came out more like a sigh.
“Do you know where she went?”
Daphne shrugged. “Honestly? No. After you fired her, she didn’t say much. But that night, we went out. I dragged her to Tasty Land. Thought maybe a fancy meal would make her forget for at least one evening.”
I stared at him. “Wait—Tasty Land? The restaurant just around the corner?”
“Exactly,” he nodded. “That place is a wallet’s worst nightmare. I only agreed because I thought we’d dine and dash, or maybe cry our way out of the bill. But…”
He paused, rolling his eyes with exaggerated flair.
“…this mystery guy pays for everything. Saved us from my bankruptcy.”
That caught my attention. “Mystery guy?”
“Yep. I think Maurice knew him, though. Now I was curious—and annoyed.”
“And you didn’t think of asking who he was?”
“Excuse me… of course not!” he said, flipping an imaginary strand of hair, “I was too busy holding back tears from the dessert prices.”
I shook my head, half amused, half frustrated.
“Anyway,” he continued, “she was a wreck that night. She was stress eating; but I could tell her pain. You know, when she just sat there, staring at the table like it had the answers to life’s questions.”
I leaned against the doorframe, letting his words settle. I remembered the last time I saw Maurice—her eyes were blazing with rage, with betrayal. And now here I was, trying to fix something I broke without even realizing the weight of it at the time.
“Look,” I said after a moment. “If you hear from her—anything, even a whisper—can you tell me?”
Daphne studied me for a beat. “Are you gonna offer her a job again?”
“I’m thinking about it.”
He nodded, almost impressed. “You must be desperate.”
I smirked. “You have no idea.”
There was a pause. Then Daphne stood, brushing imaginary lint off his clothes.
“If I hear anything, I’ll let you know,” he said, voice softer now. “But, sir… if you really want to talk to her, don’t do it as Mr. Grumpy CEO. Try showing her the human side for once.”
I tilted my head. “Mr. Grumpy?”
He grinned. “It was actually “Mr. Fishy” but she changed her mind. That’s what she calls you. Behind your back. And sometimes to your face when you’re not paying attention.”
I rubbed my forehead, groaning. “Of course she does.”
He walked past me, heading toward the hallway, but before disappearing, he called out, “Oh, and sir?”
I turned.
“Lose the tie next time. You’ll look less like someone who fires single moms.”
And just like that, he was gone.
I stayed in the doorway for a moment longer, letting the silence settle in. Maurice’s story was starting to come together—and it wasn’t just some dramatic overreaction like I initially thought. She was struggling. Fighting. Surviving.
And I was a part of why she had to fight harder.
I straightened up, buttoned my shirt collar, and started heading back to my office. I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do next—but whatever it was, it would have to start with making things right.
Or at least trying to.
The moment I stepped back into my office, I already felt the weight of the day return to my shoulders. The air inside felt heavier than usual—as if even the walls were exhausted from everything going on. I loosened my tie, again, tossed it onto the couch, and glanced toward my desk.
That’s when I noticed the blinking light on my phone. A missed call.
From Leland.
My brows furrowed. I didn’t even hear it ring. Probably drowned out by the nonstop thoughts swirling in my head. I sat down and immediately called him back.
He answered in one ring.
“Fabian,” he said, voice low. “I was just about to call again.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, already bracing myself for more bad news.
He sighed, and I could almost imagine him rubbing the back of his neck the way he always did when things got complicated.
“It’s about Maurice.”
I sat up straighter. “Tell me.”
“Well…” He hesitated. “I did a little digging. Called in a few favors, and… I found out where she is now.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“She’s currently staying in an old church at the edge of Linus City,” Leland said. “With her mother and her little brother. The one who doesn’t speak.”
My jaw clenched.
“What happened?” I asked.
“They got really evicted,” he said. “Too many debts. Couldn’t keep up with the rent. Landlady kicked them out—heartlessly, I might add.”
I swallowed hard, not knowing what to say.
“How are they?” I asked, already fearing the answer.
“I don't know. Most of their things were confiscated by the building management. Some were just thrown out.” Leland’s tone darkened. “They’re literally surviving on handouts. Maurice is trying to get a job, but…” he trailed off.
“But?”
“She doesn’t have anything to show anymore. No ID, no certificates, nothing. She left them behind in the rush, and now…” He let out another sigh. “She’s applying anywhere she can, hoping someone would give her a chance.”
I didn’t say anything for a while. I just leaned back in my chair, staring blankly at the glass window overlooking the city. The world outside looked so calm. Skyscrapers bathed in golden hour light. People going about their lives as if nothing was wrong.
But inside me? Something cracked.
Something quiet, and painful, and real.
“She’s living in a church,” I murmured.
“Yes.”
“Her brother can’t talk.”
“Yes.”
“She’s… completely down.”
Leland was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “I know what you’re thinking. And I’m not saying this is all your fault—”
“It kind of is,” I cut in quietly.
“No,” he said firmly. “You didn’t make her life miserable on purpose. You reacted to a situation you thought was real.”
“I fired her,” I muttered. “On the spot. Without asking. Without even hearing her side.”
Leland didn’t say anything. Maybe he didn’t need to.
And honestly, I wasn’t looking for comfort. I was trying to absorb the truth. The ugly part of it.
“She was holding everything together,” I whispered. “Her mom, her brother, their home. All of it was on her shoulders.”
“She was,” he said. “And now? She’s struggling to keep even the basics.”
My fingers tapped rhythmically on the edge of my desk, an old habit that surfaced when I was anxious.
“Leland,” I finally said, “Do you… do you think I was too hard on her?”
His response came quick. “Yes.”
I blinked.
“Without a doubt,” he added. “You were hurt, betrayed, humiliated, I get it. But Maurice? She didn’t deserve that kind of fall. She deserved to at least be heard.”
And there it was. Truth, stripped bare and raw.
“I feel like an ass,” I muttered, running a hand down my face.
“You kind of were,” he said, not unkindly.
We both chuckled softly. Not out of humor, but out of a strange, shared exhaustion.
“I want to make it right,” I said.
“Good,” Leland replied. “Because she’s not going to be easy to win back. Not with the way things went down.”
“I’m not trying to win her back,” I replied, though the words tasted a little unsure on my tongue. “I just want her to have what she deserves. A chance. A job. Dignity.”
“She deserves more than that,” Leland said, his voice serious. “But starting there is good.”
I nodded slowly, even though he couldn’t see me.
“Can you get me the exact location of that church?” I asked.
“I already sent it to your phone,” he replied. “Figured you’d want it.”
“Thanks, Leland.”
“Fabian?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t show up in a suit.”
I laughed under my breath. “Why?”
“Because the man who fired her like that can’t walk in looking like the same guy. You want to help her? Go as a human, not a CEO.”
That one hit.
“Got it,” I said softly.
After the call ended, I sat there for a long moment, just thinking. Letting it all sink in. The pride I’d held, the anger, the judgment… it all felt so small now.
She didn’t just lose her job—she lost her stability, her home, her means to protect her family.
And I had the power to give that back.
I glanced toward the window again. The sun had dipped lower, and the sky was now awash with orange and pink hues. Beautiful. Quiet. So unlike the chaos of my mind.
I stood from my chair and reached for my phone. The church’s location was already on the screen.
And this time, I didn’t think twice.
- Writer
