Erased vows

CHAPTER EIGHT

The file wasn't very urgent, I just wanted to leave the house. I needed a distraction.

It has been two weeks since Clarisse returned to Chicago and she has been stuck to my side.

And today she wanted us to go clubbing together.

My house no longer felt like home.

The silence in my penthouse was deafening.

I sat behind my desk, the city skyline stretching out in every direction, but I couldn’t focus on any of it. I had a dozen reports to review and a board meeting to prepare for, and Clarisse had been calling nonstop. But none of it registered.

My mind was still at Anita’s apartment.

Her voice, the way she smiled when she thought I wasn’t looking… The scent of something delicate, lavender, and something else I couldn’t place lingered longer than it should’ve.

Why did she seem so familiar?

I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my temples. For the past week, I had been trying to convince myself it was nothing. That she was just another personal assistant. Competent, efficient, different from the usual.

But that wasn’t it.

There was something about her.

A flicker of recognition whenever she looked at me. A hesitation in her voice when I asked her about her past. And then there were those moments, unspoken glances and casual touches that felt too comfortable.

I had been fighting it. Denying the pull.

But today, when she stood in her doorway, dressed in pink and white staring down at me, I felt it again. That damn sense of déjà vu.

“Hey,” she greeted.

She looked beautiful. From her casual oversized t-shirt to her perfectly polished toes in those flip-flops.

I didn’t reply. Looking past her I noticed her system was on.

“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” I asked.

“No,” she replied, “just research.”

She had invited me in without a word. As though it was second nature.

And the odd part?

I walked in.

It didn’t feel like I was entering a stranger’s home. I felt comfort.

Her place wasn’t what I’d expected. Clean, simple, not too modern but there was a warmth to it. A lavender candle burned gently in the corner while the soft fur rug added the perfect touch.

It smelled calm, like a memory I couldn’t name. I remembered glancing at the soft wool blanket draped over the edge of her couch and catching her eyes watching me instead.

And for just a second, I forgot why I’d come.

Not until she reminded me.

“You can sit while I go get the file from my room.”

God, I wasn’t supposed to linger. I wasn’t supposed to sit down or say yes to a drink or laugh at her half-hearted joke about how tightly we run the office. But I did.

I noticed it all.

And she noticed me noticing.

She’d turned away when I stared too long, pretending to shuffle through the papers. But I saw the way her fingers trembled. The way she bit her bottom lip like she used to when she was nervous.

I had watched her move around the kitchen swiftly and perfectly while she cooked.

We talked about work and client, she was smart and definitely would have created a good name for herself by now if she had started quite early.

My phone rang.

I knew who it was, Clarisse.

Without looking at the caller ID, I muted it.

“How long have you been living in Chicago?”

“I lived in Chicago a few years ago before moving to New York, but I just moved back here three months ago.” She replied.

Interesting.

“Why did you move back here?” I pushed further, cleaning my hands with a kitchen towel.

“I was done with the reason I moved to New York and besides I saw a good job opening so I applied”

That wasn’t the answer I was expecting.

She turned the rice into the pot and allowed it to simmer for a bit on the stove.

“And you think moving over 700 miles away for a job is beneficial?” I asked.

“Let’s just hope it is beneficial.” She said dismissively.

I said nothing but I hoped for the sake it was a wise decision.

It took some minutes of silence before any of us broke it.

“Food is ready” she announced, turning off the stove.

“Perfect timing,” I said, sitting up.

“One minute later and you would have to share your cookies with me” I tried lighting up the room.

She let out a soft laugh.

It was like music to the ears.

Since the accident, I haven’t felt this free.

It was either that I was busy working or that I was fighting invisible demons in my head.

The rice was cooked beautifully, I could taste the sweet mixture of spices and cinnamon in every bite.

“I can feel the effect of the cinnamon,” I said, taking my second bite..

“Thank you,” she replied.

My phone rang again.

Tired of her persistent calls, I muted it.

“Sure you don't want to pick that up?” Anita asked, “It has been ringing for quite some time.”

“Nah it is Clarisse, I am avoiding her,” I said briefly.

“You mean your fiancé?” I asked.

I wasn’t expecting her to know Clarisse or my relationship with her. She just started working at the company and hasn’t met her.

“How did you know that?”

“Hmmm, I watch the news and office gossip” she defended.

She seemed to know quite a lot about me.

“So you participate in office gossip?” I raised an eyebrow, loving the unease she felt.

“Not really, news flies,” she said, trying to shrug it off.

“The majority are false,” I told her.

It was once rumored I was married, they didn’t even have as much as her picture to back up their claim.

Nowadays anything flies.

“She has been around for some time now, way longer than I want” I took the last sip of my pineapple juice. “My space no longer feels like my space, I wanted to get away from home. That's why I came by myself to pick up the file.”

I don’t know why I told her that.

I was oversharing but I couldn’t stop.

“You think coming over to my place will make you feel better?” She asked.

“I don’t know how to say this, but……” I hesitated for a moment before I continued “For some weird reason, I felt like I wanted to be here today and nowhere else.”

She looked shocked.

But she said nothing.

“Have you ever been in love?” I asked.

I wanted to know what love felt like, I love Clarisse but I don’t know if I am in love with her.

“Liam?” she had called out.

Not even Mr Grey.

The way she said my name sent a shiver down my spine. Soft. Familiar.

“Don’t bother, forget I ever asked that,” I said firmly.

Rising, “I will be leaving now.”

Picking up my car keys, I headed for the door.

I turned to face her then. She stood close, holding the folder I had asked for. But instead of handing it over, she paused looking up at me like she wanted to say something.

But she didn’t.

Neither did I.

Instead, I took the file slowly, and my hand brushed hers. Just a second. That was all it took.

“Thanks for dinner”

Now, hours later, I still hadn’t opened the file. I couldn’t.

And when I stood to leave, there was a pause that unspoken question in the air and I nearly asked if I could stay a little longer.