June sat stiffly across from her mother's pristine glass desk, the silver trimmings gleaming under the office lights. The air carried the faint scent of her mother's perfume,cool, expensive, and distant, much like the woman herself.
She had called her mother in the middle of the night, demanding a meeting. The urgency in her voice had made Esther assume something serious had happened, perhaps another scandal, another fire to put out. So, without much thought, she had left for the office earlier than usual, instructing June to meet her there.
But now, as she sat in front of her daughter, listening to the question that had fallen from her lips, Esther found herself rubbing her temple in irritation.
"How did you get over Dad's decision to walk out on us?"
Esther studied June, her gaze cool and assessing.
"Goodness, June," she exhaled. "When will you just let go of the past?"
How long had it been?
She leaned back in her chair, her fingers idly tracing the armrest. "What's wrong now? I thought you'd settled your scandals and were back on track. Where is this coming from?"
Her voice was calm, but there was an underlying impatience in her tone. Esther never did have the patience for emotional confrontations.
June, on the other hand, was unshaken. If anything, her gaze sharpened.
"You must have been broken to have the man you loved choose someone else over you."
Esther blinked, taken aback.
Of course, she had been hurt, who wouldn't be? But years had passed, and she had learned to bury the past in dust. What good would dwelling on it do?
She let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head.
"June, honestly, I haven't thought of it in years. He made his choice a long time ago, and I made mine the day he chose her. There was nothing to mourn. He wanted love, and I sought power. We were just two incompatible people forced to be one."
June frowned slightly, as if considering her words.
Esther's voice softened, almost as if she were speaking to herself. "The day we were married, we knew what it was, a contract, nothing more. A deal between two families of equal standing. Love was never a factor. Our feelings, our desires, they never mattered."
She let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. "He was in love with someone else long before we married. She was his first love, his childhood sweetheart, the woman he truly wanted to spend his life with. But his family disapproved. She was from a lower-class background, unfit for their name. So they arranged our marriage, and in return, his father agreed to spare her family from the legal charges hanging over them."
June listened, absorbing every word, her fingers tightening around the hem of her sleeve.
Esther tilted her head slightly, watching her daughter's expression.
"I knew all of this before I married him," she admitted. "It didn't matter to me. I had my own reasons, my family business was struggling, and an alliance with his family was an opportunity I couldn't let slip. Love was never the goal."
June swallowed. "But you loved him in the end, didn't you?"
Esther's lips twitched. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just grew used to him. When you were born, I thought… maybe things would change. Maybe he would forget about her."
Her gaze hardened. "But I was a fool. He never forgot her. He saw her in the dark, behind closed doors. Even when he was with me, his heart was elsewhere."
June sucked in a slow breath. She had always known their family was fractured, but hearing it in such stark words unsettled her.
"I met his daughter," she murmured, watching her mother carefully.
Esther froze for a split second before she returned to shuffling through her papers. "And?"
June pressed on. "She's just like her mother."
Esther exhaled through her nose, unimpressed. "That woman must be proud, then."
June studied her mother's reaction, or lack thereof. Esther had always been an expert at keeping her emotions buried, hidden beneath layers of poise and control.
But June wasn't done.
"I just want to know how you felt about his rejection."
Esther's hand stilled over a document.
Then, she slowly raised her gaze, her dark eyes locking onto June's.
"Because you can't get over the past?" she asked, voice dangerously quiet. "Because you want me to convince you that his choice was partially right?"
The words hit like a strike of lightning, sharp and cold.
June swallowed hard. Maybe that was why she was here. Maybe she needed someone, her mother, to tell her that it was okay to feel this way. That the resentment curling inside her chest wasn't misplaced. That the rejection that haunted her every step was justified.
But she should have known better.
Her mother had never been the comforting type.
Esther closed the file in front of her and leaned forward slightly.
"I'm sorry, June, but I can't provide that. I'm just not that mother."
June's stomach twisted.
Her mother's voice was cold, cutting through the thin thread of hope she hadn't even realized she was holding onto.
"The truth remains the same," Esther continued, her expression unyielding. "Your father made his choice. He chose his illegitimate daughter over you. He chose his mistress over me, over our family. That is the reality."
Her voice didn't waver. There was no bitterness, no anger, just fact.
And somehow, that made it worse.
June clenched her jaw, staring down at the glass desk as her mother's words settled deep into her bones.
Esther had long made her peace with the past.
But June?
June wasn't sure if she ever could.
….
Dora exhaled sharply, sinking into the couch as she accepted the steaming cup from Edward's outstretched hand. The warmth seeped through the porcelain, but her thoughts remained cold and tangled.
"How far are you on it?" Edward's voice broke through the silence, his gaze flickering toward the open laptop resting on her lap.
"So far, just the plot," she murmured, adjusting her screen to face him. "I'm yet to figure out the title."
Edward leaned in, eyes scanning the document. After a few seconds, he pushed back, settling into the chair beside her.
"You said it's about your friend, right?"
"Yes, her and her next-door psychiatrist."
Edward's brow arched. "Do they share any intimate connection?"
Dora scoffed, rolling her eyes.
"Intimate?" That was a definite no. If there was one thing she knew about June, it was that romance had no place in her life.
For as long as Dora had known her, June had been laser-focused on her career and status, shutting out anything remotely sentimental. And trust? That was a foreign concept to her. She never let a man close enough to touch her heart.
Not that she could be blamed. Her father's choices had been a cruel lesson in betrayal, teaching her that love was nothing more than a liability.
"Hell no," Dora finally answered. "June is everything but intimate. She doesn't do romance. To her, he's just a stepping stone to getting her name back."
Edward studied her for a moment before leaning back, arms crossing over his chest.
"Then make it happen."
Dora blinked. "What?"
"Your story will be bland without love. Your character needs to change her view, and you as the writer have to give her a reason to."
Dora immediately waved off the suggestion, shaking her head. "No way. I'm not messing with June's emotions like that." She shot him a look. "Do you have any idea what happened the last time someone tried setting her up on a blind date?"
Edward smirked. "Let me guess—hospital visit?"
"Broken ribs," she corrected.
He let out a low chuckle. "Sounds like her."
Dora sighed, sinking further into the couch.
Edward nudged her playfully. "Come on, see it as helping your friend. You do want her to have a happy life, right? A family of her own?"
Of course she did.
She had already mapped out their future together, how they would get married on the same day, have beautiful kids, and if their children were opposite genders, she'd betroth them to each other.
June had called her crazy and wished her luck with her fantasies.
"Fine," Dora muttered begrudgingly. "I'll help her realize her feelings for him." Then, with a pointed look, she added, "If she even has any."
Edward grinned. "That's the spirit."
Before Dora could throw a playful jab at him, a voice interrupted.
"Mr. Collins."
Dora turned her head just as a tall man in a dark suit entered the room, a thick portfolio clutched in his hand. His sharp gaze darted between them before settling on Edward.
Edward let out a slow breath, his fingers pressing against the bridge of his nose.
Dora frowned, taking in the scene. Something felt… off.
The man's posture was stiff, hesitant, as if he had just made a mistake. And Edward? He looked—annoyed? No, more than that. He looked tense.
"Who's Mr. Collins?" Dora asked, glancing at the man in the suit. "There's no Mr. Collins here."
The man visibly stiffened.
"But he's right" He abruptly cut himself off when Edward shot him a sharp look.
Dora narrowed her eyes. What was that?
Edward's expression remained calm, but she didn't miss the way his fingers subtly moved—a silent command. The suited man immediately pressed his lips together, swallowing back whatever he was about to say.
Dora's suspicion deepened.
"Uh… what were you saying?" she asked slowly. "It sounded like you were calling him Mr. Collins."
Edward quickly cut in, smoothly redirecting the conversation.
"I think you should focus on getting your friend and her psychiatrist together." His tone was light, dismissive, but Dora wasn't fooled.
She hesitated for a beat before deciding to let it go. For now.
"Fine," she huffed, pushing off the couch. "See you tomorrow."
Edward watched as she walked away, waiting until she was out of earshot before turning back to his assistant.
The man exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging. "Sorry, boss. I wasn't aware she was her."
Edward waved him off. "It's fine. She didn't figure anything out." He adjusted the stack of documents on his desk. "Why are you here?"
His assistant straightened. "Your father called. He's not pleased with your approach to winning over your fiancée. He believes you're wasting time and money. He wants her family to force her into the alliance instead."
Edward clenched his jaw.
"Having my fiancée forced into marriage is not something I stand for." His voice was controlled, but his grip on the papers tightened.
He had chosen this path for a reason.
The day his mother had called, informing him of his long-time fiancée's dissatisfaction with the engagement, something inside him had shifted.
He had fallen for her before they had even met. A single photo had been enough to captivate him, filling him with dreams of a marriage built on love, not obligation.
But she had run away from the engagement.
He didn't want to be the man she despised. So, he had taken up this disguise, determined to win her heart as himself, not as the heir of a powerful family.
His father would never understand.
Love meant nothing to the old man. He had grown up watching his father prioritize business and power over family, leaving his mother to suffer in cold loneliness.
Edward had vowed never to be that kind of man.
Years later, he had forced his father to step down from the company by securing the majority of shares, taking control of everything. The betrayal had left a deep rift between them, but Edward had no regrets. His father was a ruthless businessman, a man who saw emotions as weaknesses.
Edward was determined to prove him wrong.
His assistant cleared his throat, pulling him from his thoughts.
"Also, you have a meeting with the Greys later today." He pulled a stack of papers from the portfolio and placed them in front of Edward. "These are the documents you requested."
Edward nodded, flipping through the pages.
"And Jay," he said casually, a small smirk playing on his lips.
"Yes, boss?"
"Make sure every employee reads her new novel. No excuses. It's mandatory."
Jay raised a brow. "Title?"
Edward's smirk deepened.
"My Mr. Psychiatrist."
…..
After her tense meeting with her mother, June left the office feeling emotionally drained. Her mother's cold words lingered in her mind, reminding her once again of the deep cracks in their family. Despite seeking closure, she only found more weight added to her already burdened heart.
Refusing to let her emotions consume her, she refocused on work. As she arrived back at the media company, she took a moment to collect herself before stepping inside. The atmosphere was as busy as ever, reporters rushing to meet deadlines, editors reviewing content, and interns scrambling with coffee orders.
Her fingers instinctively reached down, pressing against her aching ankles, trying to ease the discomfort that had settled there from hours in heels that felt more like torture devices than fashion statements.
Just as she headed toward her office, she heard a familiar voice calling her name.
Turning, she spotted Linda, a senior colleague, standing near the main lobby with a well-dressed man beside her. Linda waved her over, excitement in her expression.
"June! Perfect timing," Linda said cheerfully. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."
June barely registered her words as her attention shifted to the man standing next to Linda. The moment their eyes meet, something inside her tensed.
Recognition sparked like a sudden flame.
She knew him.
And judging by the slow smirk creeping onto his face, he knows her too.
"June?"
The voice was warm, threaded with something close to disbelief. Before she could react, she was pulled into a firm embrace, her slim frame disappearing into the overwhelming grasp of arms that felt both foreign and familiar.
Her breath hitched.
The scent of crisp cedar and a faint trace of cologne brushed against her senses, stirring memories she had long since buried.
Her eyes lifted, locking onto a face bathed in the golden glow of the office lights. A face she had not seen in years.
"It really is you."
The familiarity in his tone made something twist inside her.
"Do you know each other?"
Linda's voice cut through the air, snapping June out of the moment.
She stiffened, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. With a sharp exhale, she stepped back, slipping out of his grasp as subtly as possible.
Her heart pounded against her ribs, but her expression remained unreadable. She was good at that, masking the storm beneath a sea of indifference.
And yet, as she glanced up again, her breath nearly caught.
Those eyes.
Dark, deep, endless, like a night sky stretched over the ocean.
This was the third time she had looked into them since the moment he turned around, and each time, something inside her cracked just a little more.
Then, it hit her.
The memory crashed into her like a wrecking wave, fast and unrelenting.
The weight of his body pressed against hers, the dim glow of campus lights flickering in the background. The sharp, distant sound of laughter. Her own voice, breathless with frustration, muttering under her breath as she shoved him away with every ounce of strength she had.
"Shit."
The whispered curse slipped past her lips before she could stop it.
Damn it. She was in trouble.
His gaze sharpened, catching the flicker of recognition in her eyes. A slow, knowing smirk curved the edges of his lips.
"Yes, we do."
The confidence in his voice sent a ripple of unease down her spine.
He turned slightly, angling his body toward Linda but keeping his eyes fixed on June.
"Don't we, June?"
Her pulse drummed a steady rhythm against her skin.
There was something dangerously amused in his tone, something that told her he remembered everything.
And worse, he wasn't about to let her forget.