Later that evening, Adrian sat in his private office, the city lights of New York glittering behind him. The sound of the rain tapping against the glass was the only noise filling the room. His fingers hovered over his phone.
Should he call her?
No. That would be weak.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes closed. Memories of five years ago played in his mind like a haunting movie.
It was raining that night too.
She was standing at the bus stop, her clothes drenched, her face pale.
"Don't leave, Emily," he had begged, his voice desperate.
But she looked at him with tears in her eyes.
"I have to, Adrian," she had whispered.
"Tell me why!" he had shouted, grabbing her hand, trying to hold on to her.
"You'll hate me if I do," she said, her voice cracking like glass.
And then, she had pulled away, vanishing into the rain.
He had waited. Days. Weeks. Months. But she never came back.
That same pain now surged through him like a fresh wound. Why did she come back now? As if nothing had happened?
His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was a message from his assistant:
"Ms. Harper has requested a meeting with you tomorrow at 10 AM."
His eyes darkened.
"She has no idea what she started."