OLD TIES
878 Words
Catherine stood by the kitchen island, her fingers wrapped loosely around a cup of coffee that had long gone cold. Morning light spilled across the marble countertops, clean and bright, almost mocking in its normalcy.
Leo’s laughter drifted faintly from the living room, where the nanny was helping him put on his shoes .
She closed her eyes briefly.
Last night lingered.
Not in fragments.
In clarity.
Xavier’s voice.
I wouldn’t trust anyone else with it.
She already knew.
She was going to say no.
Not because she couldn’t do it.
But because she shouldn’t.
Because nothing about Xavier was simple anymore.
Because working with him meant proximity.
Proximity meant emotion.
And emotion… was dangerous.
Her phone buzzed against the counter.
She didn’t look at it immediately.
It buzzed again.
Then again.
Persistent.
Intentional.
Her gaze dropped.
Xavier.
For a second, she just stared at his name on the screen.
Then she picked it up.
“Hello?”
“Good,” his voice came through, smooth but edged with something firmer than usual. “You answered.”
Her brows drew together slightly. “Shouldn’t I?”
A quiet breath on the other end. Then.
“You were going to say no.”
Not a question.
A statement.
Catherine straightened slightly, her grip tightening around the phone. “You don’t waste time, do you?”
“I don’t like guessing when I already know the answer,” he replied calmly.
Something in her chest shifted.
Annoyance.
Recognition.
“Then why call?” she asked.
A pause.
Not hesitation.
Precision.
“Because I don’t think you’re saying no for the right reasons.”
Her jaw tightened.
“And what exactly do you think my reasons are?”
“That you’re avoiding something,” he said. “Not the project.”
A beat.
“Me.”
Silence stretched between them.
Sharp.
Uncomfortable.
Accurate.
“You’re overstepping,” she said finally, her voice quieter now, controlled.
“Am I?” he asked, not defensive. Just… steady.
Catherine turned, pacing slowly across the kitchen, her heels clicking softly against the floor.
“This is business, Xavier.”
“Exactly,” he said. “So let’s keep it that way.”
She stopped.
That wasn’t what she expected.
“I’m offering you a project,” he continued. “A major one. One that aligns perfectly with what you’ve built. What you want.”
Her fingers tightened slightly around the phone.
“And you’re turning it down because of… what?” he added. “the past?".
Her throat felt dry.
“It’s not that simple.”
“It could be,” he said quietly.
A flicker of frustration rose in her chest.
“You don’t get to decide that,” she replied.
“No,” he agreed. “But you don’t get to pretend this is about professionalism either.”
That landed.
Harder than it should have.
Catherine exhaled slowly, pressing her free hand against the edge of the counter.
“You’re asking me to blur lines that I’ve worked very hard to keep clear.”
“I’m asking you to take a project you deserve,” he corrected.
Another pause.
Then, softer.
“And to stop shrinking yourself to fit a life that doesn’t.”
Her eyes closed.
That...
That was the problem.
He saw too much.
“You don’t know what my life requires,” she said, though there was less conviction in it now.
“I know you,” he replied.
Simple.
Certain.
Dangerous.
A sound of laughter drifted in from the living room Leo.
Her chest tightened instinctively.
Grounding.
Reminder.
Reality.
“I have responsibilities,” she said quietly.
“I’m not asking you to abandon them.”
“You are, indirectly,” she pushed. “You’re asking me to step into something that complicates everything.”
“Or clarifies it,” he countered.
Silence again.
This time, heavier.
“Catherine,” he said, her name softer now, less sharp, more deliberate. “If this were just about the past, I wouldn’t be pushing.”
She swallowed.
“But it’s not,” he continued. “It’s about you choosing something because you want it… not because it’s safe.”
Her grip on the phone loosened slightly.
“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” he added. “But don’t give me the wrong one just to protect a version of your life that’s already cracking.”
The words settled deep.
Too deep.
“I have a meeting,” she said finally, her voice steady again, pulling herself back together. “I’ll think about it.”
“I know you will,” he replied.
A pause.
“I’ll wait.”
The line went quiet.
Catherine lowered the phone slowly, setting it back on the counter.
For a long moment, she didn’t move.
Didn’t think.
Didn’t breathe.
Then
“Mommy!”
Leo’s voice broke through, bright and urgent as he ran into the kitchen, holding up something unrecognizable made of blocks.
“Look what I made!”
She blinked, the weight in her chest shifting instantly as she dropped to his level.
“Wow,” she said softly, genuinely. “That’s incredible.”
He beamed.
And just like that
Everything felt simple again.
But only on the surface.
- Writer
