As Lorna and Michael reviewed the first phase of their wellness rollout, the office hum subsided as they sat side by side in the modern boardroom, fingers moving over her tablet. Two weeks had passed since Michael took a break, and their working rhythm had unexpectedly found harmony.
Boundaries remained undefined. Still, there were too many prolonged looks. Silences that were more meaningful than words.
However, something had changed.
He wasn't just the billionaire who had broken down in her therapy sessions.
He was showing up. Present. Respectful. Supportive.
It was working out between them.
She looked up and said, "Next Friday is a mindfulness seminar." "Workers from the satellite offices could be invited."
A rare smile softened Michael's features as he nodded. "Achieve it. I believe your call.
They looked at each other for too long. After clearing her throat, Lorna got up to get her notes.
He was already observing her when she turned. "What?"
His arms were crossed but his face was open as he leaned back. "You appear lighter. More about you.
She laughed quietly and cautiously. It's ironic. The only one who has changed is you.
"Perhaps we both have," he remarked softly.
She didn't respond. However, an electric current flowed between them in the quiet. They both felt it all the way down to their bones, but neither recognized the current.
In the meantime, Heather Parker was in a quiet area of the city, staring at her laptop with a fixed gaze.
The headline, "Hudson Holdings Rolls Out Groundbreaking Mental Health Initiative with Dr. Lorna Jenkins at the Helm," caught her attention on a business blog.
Her stomach churned.
Lorna Jenkins.
Michael's quiet therapist was the name she recalled. Henry had brought it up when he collapsed. Then she had brushed her off. A temporary fix. A stranger in the workplace.
Now, though?
She was now a member of Michael's team.
With increasing uneasiness, Heather clicked on the article and read every word. It was dread, not jealousy. For the previous three years, she had persuaded herself that Michael would never be able to move past her actions. that he would never get over it. That even if she had left, their story had been unique enough to keep him there.
However, this...
This was risky.
The woman who helped Michael recover might end up being the one who helped him forget.
She searched through her contacts on her phone until she came across the one name she hadn't used in months.
Edward, Reed.
She kept her thumb over the call button.
He was poisonous, she knew that. An error that she tried to correct.
But Heather needed to regain control right now.
Edward also had a knack for shattering those she couldn't.
At the same time, Edward Reed was drinking whiskey and gazing into space while leaning against the marble bar of a posh downtown lounge.
He was holding out for the next chance. The next scandal. the following match.
He grinned when his phone rang and he saw Heather's name.
"All right," he muttered. "Look who's scuttling out of the darkness."
He replied.
With a sharp, low voice, Heather said, "Edward, I need a favor."
A smile replaced that smirk.
"I believed you might."
Michael and Lorna stood together by the window at Hudson Holdings, finishing up their notes for the day as the sun sank behind glass towers.
"You're skilled at this," he remarked softly.
She smiled a little. "You are, too."
He took a small step toward her, close enough for her to sense his warmth without touching her or going over the line.
He said, "Lorna, I'm not just trying to prove something to you anymore." "All I'm trying to do is be... better."
She gave him a look. His face was shadowed by the city lights, but there was something genuine in his eyes. Something stable.
And she allowed herself to wonder for the first time:
What if there was more to this than healing?
What if this was a novel situation?
However, two ghosts, Edward and Heather, were stirring outside the high-rise walls of their private moment.
Furthermore, they were unwilling to let go of the past.