Chapter 2

By the time Sarah got home, the night had already settled into a quiet stillness.

The city lights no longer felt alive. They flickered in the distance—cold, detached, like they belonged to another world entirely.

She pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside.

Ann was already on her feet.

“Well?” she asked immediately, her eyes scanning Sarah’s face. “How did it go? Did you tell him?”

Sarah didn’t answer right away, she slipped off her heels, placing them neatly by the door, adjusting one slightly, then again, as though the smallest detail mattered.

“I told him,” she said at last.

Ann’s brows furrowed.

“And?”

A brief pause.

Then, simply—

“We broke up.”

The words were so flat, so emotionless, that Ann blinked, unsure if she had heard correctly.

“…What?”

Sarah walked past her, dropping her purse on the table before sinking into the couch, her movements unhurried, almost immediate.

“He couldn’t handle it,” she said. A small pause followed. “Or maybe… he just didn’t want to.”

Ann’s expression hardened almost instantly.

“That’s it?” she snapped. “After everything? After two whole years? He just—what? Walk away?”

Sarah let out a quiet breath, leaning her head back against the couch, her gaze fixed on the ceiling.

“It wasn’t just that,” she said.

Ann folded her arms. “What else?”

For a moment, Sarah said nothing.

Then she turned her head slightly, her eyes distant.

“His family wants him to marry someone else,” she said. “Some business partner’s daughter. Apparently, it’s ‘important’ for their company.”

Ann stared at her in disbelief.

“You’re joking.”

“I wish I was.”

For a moment, silence filled the room.

Then—

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Ann burst out. “So he just threw you away because of some business deal? Seriously? What kind of nonsense is that?”

Sarah didn’t respond immediately.

She just sat there… quiet, still.

Almost untouched.

And that was what unsettled Ann the most.

“You’re not even crying,” she said slowly.

Sarah gave a small shrug, her fingers loosely intertwined in her lap.

“What’s there to cry about?”

Ann frowned. “Sarah…”

“It’s not new,” she interrupted softly.

That made Ann pause.

Sarah’s lips curved into a faint, humorless smile.

“They all leave, Ann,” she said. “I thought… maybe this time would be different. I thought he would stay.”

Her voice didn’t break.

If anything, that made it worse.

“But I guess I was wrong.”

She looked away, her gaze settling somewhere far beyond the room.

“So you see… I’m already used to people leaving.”

The honesty in her voice lingered heavily in the air.

Ann’s anger softened into concern as she moved closer and sat beside her.

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay,” she said gently.

“I didn’t say it was.”

Another silence.

This one quieter.

Deeper.

Sarah stood up after a moment, smoothing down her dress absentmindedly.

“I’m tired,” she said. “I just want to sleep.”

Ann hesitated, then nodded.

“Okay… but if you need anything—”

“I know,” Sarah said, giving her a small, reassuring look. “Thank you.”

Sarah turned and walked toward her room, closing the door quietly behind her.

The silence that followed felt heavier now.

She sat on the edge of her bed for a moment, her composure finally beginning to loosen, just slightly.

Her thoughts drifted before she could stop them.

To Emily.

A soft shift crossed her face at the name—something fragile, almost hidden.

Her daughter.

The one good thing that had come from a night she had spent years trying to forget.

Her fingers curled faintly against the fabric of her dress.

For a moment, the past pressed in—unwelcome, familiar. Not clear, not whole… just enough to remind her why she had built so many walls around herself.

Why she had learned not to expect too much.

Why she never held on too tightly.

Her breathing steadied as she forced the memories back, locking them away where they belonged.

Not tonight.

She lay back on the bed, turning slightly to her side, her eyes closing.

The exhaustion came quickly this time—heavy, unrelenting.

And within minutes, she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning came faster than she expected.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room.

For a few seconds, Sarah just lay still, staring at the ceiling, her mind blank.

Then reality settled in.

The dinner.

Greg.

Everything.

She exhaled slowly and reached for her phone on the bedside table.

A notification blinked on the screen.

New Email.

Frowning slightly, she opened it.

Her eyes scanned the first line—

…and then widened.

“Dear Ms. Sarah,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected…”

She sat up immediately.

“What?”

Her heart began to race as she read through the rest of the message more carefully this time, as if the words might change.

It was real.

Not a mistake.

Not another rejection.

They had accepted her.

After weeks of waiting… countless interviews… silence after silence—

Finally.

Something went right.

A small, disbelieving laugh escaped her lips as she pressed a hand to her chest.

“Wow…”

For the first time since the night before, something warm flickered inside her.

Relief.

Hope.

Maybe even… excitement.

She got out of bed quickly and headed toward the door.

“Ann!” she called out, her voice carrying through the apartment.

Ann appeared moments later, still half-asleep.

“What is it? Why are you shouting this early—”

“I got the job.”

That woke her up instantly.

“What?!”

Sarah couldn’t help the small smile that spread across her face.

“I got it,” she repeated. “The one I told you about weeks ago.”

Ann’s face lit up as she rushed forward and pulled her into a tight hug.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed. “See? Something good had to happen!”

Sarah laughed softly, hugging her back.

“Yeah… I guess it did.”

Ann pulled back, studying her.

“Look at you,” she said. “New job, fresh start… and no more Greg.”

Sarah’s smile faded just slightly—but it didn’t disappear completely.

“Yeah,” she said quietly.

A fresh start.

Maybe that was exactly what she needed.

But deep down…

She couldn’t shake the feeling that some things didn’t end so easily.

And that this—

whatever it was—

was only just beginning.

The next day, Sarah stood in front of Hart’s Holding.

The building rose tall and imposing, its glass exterior catching the morning sun and throwing it back in sharp, blinding streaks.

For a moment, she didn’t move.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the folder in her hands, the edges pressing faintly into her palm.

This was it.

A new beginning.

She drew in a quiet breath, squared her shoulders, and stepped inside.

The reception area buzzed with quiet activity—phones ringing, keyboards clicking, voices low but constant.

It felt… alive.

“Good morning,” the receptionist greeted with a polite smile. “How may I help you?”

“Good morning,” Sarah replied, returning the smile. “I’m here to see the HR department. I received an employment confirmation email.”

“Alright, please head to the third floor. First office on your left.”

“Thank you.”

A few minutes later, Sarah found herself seated across from a middle-aged woman with sharp glasses and an even sharper gaze.

“I’m Mrs. Lawson, Head of Human Resources,” the woman said, flipping through Sarah’s documents with practiced efficiency. “Everything seems to be in order.”

Sarah nodded, sitting upright, her posture composed despite the quiet tension coiling beneath it.

“Thank you, ma.”

Mrs. Lawson closed the file and placed it neatly on the desk, folding her hands over it.

“You applied for the administrative position,” she began.

“Yes, ma.”

“Well…” Her tone shifted, almost subtly. “There’s been a slight adjustment.”

Sarah felt it immediately—a small, uneasy flicker in her chest.

“Adjustment?”

“You’ll be working directly with the CEO.”

Sarah blinked, the words taking a second longer than they should to settle.

“I’m sorry… the CEO?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Lawson confirmed calmly. “As his personal assistant.”

For a brief moment, Sarah just stared at her.

Her thoughts stumbled over themselves.

Personal assistant? To the CEO?

“I… didn’t apply for that role,” she said carefully.

A faint, knowing smile touched Mrs. Lawson’s lips.

“You didn’t. But your profile stood out. We believe you’re capable.”

The words should have felt reassuring.

Instead, they left behind a mix of surprise and quiet uncertainty.

“I see…”

“The position requires discretion, efficiency, and strong organizational skills,” Mrs. Lawson continued. “You’ll be working very closely with him—managing his schedule, coordinating meetings, handling confidential matters.”

Sarah nodded slowly, forcing herself to absorb each word.

“I understand.”

“Good.”

Mrs. Lawson leaned back slightly in her chair.

“Our former CEO recently retired and handed the company over to his son,” she added. “He’s currently in Italy for a business engagement, but he should be back within a week or two.”

A small, unexpected sense of relief settled in Sarah.

Time.

At least she would have time to adjust.

“In the meantime,” Mrs. Lawson continued, “you’re expected to familiarize yourself with the environment. Learn the system, understand the workflow, and prepare for his return.”

“Yes, ma.”

Mrs. Lawson slid a document across the desk.

“Your official role will be Executive Personal Assistant to the CEO.”

Sarah’s gaze lingered on the paper for a second before she reached for it.

Executive PA.

The title felt heavier than she expected.

Bigger.

“Report to the administrative office for onboarding,” Mrs. Lawson added. Then, after a brief pause—

“And Sarah—”

“Yes, ma?”

“You’ll need to be at your best.”

A slight pause followed.

“He’s… particular.”

Something in the way she said it—measured, almost deliberate—made Sarah still for a fraction of a second.

“I understand,” she said.

The rest of the day passed in a blur.

Introductions. Paperwork. Guided tours.

Names blurred into faces. Departments into hallways.

Everything felt new—slightly overwhelming—but beneath it all, there was something else.

Possibility.

By the time she finally settled into her assigned desk, she let out a quiet breath, her shoulders easing for the first time that day.

Her fingers brushed lightly over the surface, as if grounding herself in the moment.

This could work.

Maybe…

This really was her fresh start.