Love, Lies and Power

Chapter 3

The healing

Sandra’s POV

Months slipped by like water through my fingers. I watched the world’s outrage fade into a dull memory. Every morning I woke before dawn, dressed in simple clothes, and headed to my small office job. It felt good to be useful. The money from my alimony checks sat in the bank, waiting quietly for me. I knew I could live on it forever, but I refused to stop working. I needed the routine, the normal, and the sense of purpose.

I stayed off social media. No feeds, no tweets, no messages. I watched the world move on without me. My life became predictable in the best way. I woke, worked, and went home. I read books, cooked simple meals, and slept well. I felt a peace I had not known in years.

That peace shattered on a Saturday evening. I had walked into my favorite coffee shop to escape the stress of the week. I ordered my usual drink and found a corner seat by the window. My heart still fluttered at every sudden noise. My mind chased away the unpleasant thoughts of betrayal and scandal. It helped to sift coffee grounds with my fingertips, to smell the steam rising in my cup.

When I left, I stepped onto the pavement, lost in the swirl of steam and sweet aromas. I did not see him until it was too late. One moment, I was thinking about the weekend ahead. Next, I ran right into a hard wall. Pain exploded in my forehead. I went down like a rag doll, coffee splashing on the ground.

Ow, I cried, my hand flying to my head.

A deep voice asked, "Are you okay?"

I looked up. My vision swam. A pair of large, warm hands gripped my wrist and lifted me toward standing. I blinked and saw him.

He was tall, lean, and broad. His suit hugged every line of his body. His skin glowed like cinnamon in the late afternoon sun. His hair was cut close to his head. His jaw wore a clean shave that made me think of sculptures I had seen in museums. His eyes met mine, wide and earnest. They held me still. I could feel my pulse in my throat.

Inside I panicked. What was I doing, staring? I twisted my gaze toward his hands, strong and sure. I felt a blush creep across my cheeks.

He crouched beside me again and asked, "Miss, do you need anything?"

I swallowed hard. My voice felt small. "I’m fine," I managed.

He let go and stood. His eyes flicked over me once more. "You are sure?"

I nodded, stepping back. "Yes. Thank you."

He gave a small nod and turned away. I watched the back of his suit jacket, the gentle slope of his shoulders, until he disappeared around the corner. Two men in dark suits trailed behind him like shadows.

A celebrity, I thought. A famous man with bodyguards. What a story for my quiet life.

I shook my head as if to clear away the memory, hailed a taxi, and went home. The city lights shimmered against the night sky. I held my coffee cup close, wishing I had not spilled a single drop.

The next morning, my phone rang with Vera’s name flashing on the screen. I picked up, hoping she had good news.

“I’m sorry, Sandra,” she said, her voice soft. “You will have to go without me.”

That one sentence felt like a punch in my chest. I had spent the day before picking out a dress. I had imagined us laughing, dancing, escaping our routines for one night.

“Why?” I asked. The question sounded small and sharp.

“Something came up,” Vera replied. “I can’t go. You already have the tickets. Please, go and enjoy yourself.”

I sighed. I should have been angry, but I felt a strange relief too. I did not want to go. I had only agreed because Vera had begged. I hated crowded rooms, loud music, and strangers touching my arms.

Still, I had the tickets. And my dress waited on the hanger, smooth and bright. I looked at my reflection in the window. A tight fitted gown, deep blue, hugged my curves. I ran a hand through my hair as I dressed. I applied a light coat of makeup, something to bring out my green eyes.

I closed my apartment door behind me and headed toward the nightclub. My heels clicked on the pavement, each step echoing in the quiet night. I kept my head down, focusing on one foot in front of the other.

At the door, a bouncer took my ticket and waved me in. The bass throbbed through the floor, like a second heartbeat. Colored lights flashed across the ceiling. People moved everywhere, their faces blurred in the haze of sweat and perfume.

I took a deep breath and stepped inside. I was alone in a sea of strangers. But I was okay. I had my quiet strength, the memory of a handsome stranger’s concern, and the promise of a night that belonged only to me.

Tonight, I will find my own peace in the noise.