The aroma of lavender wafted through the air, soothing yet unwelcome as Eva Blackwell sat on her bed, her trembling fingers clutching a photograph. The picture was of her and Adam—her late fiancé. They were grinning under the golden rays of a spring sunset, his arm draped protectively around her shoulders. She could almost hear his laughter echoing in her mind. Almost.
Her bedroom, once a sanctuary, now felt suffocating. The walls were lined with reminders of a life that had unraveled in the blink of an eye. A half-empty bookshelf, wedding invitations she couldn't bear to throw away, and the dress—her wedding dress—still hanging in the corner of the closet, untouched.
"Three years," Eva whispered, her voice cracking. "Three years, Adam, and I'm still… here."
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, breaking the fragile silence. She stared at the screen: Sophia.
Reluctantly, she answered. "Hey."
"You're still in bed, aren't you?" Sophia's voice was tinged with worry but laced with the no-nonsense tone Eva had come to expect from her best friend.
"I'm not—" Eva paused, glancing at the clock. It was nearly noon. "Okay, maybe I am. What's your point?"
Sophia sighed. "Eva, I love you, but this isn't living. You're stuck in a cycle, and it's killing me to watch you like this. Adam wouldn't want—"
"Don't," Eva snapped, her grip tightening on the phone. "Don't tell me what Adam would've wanted."
The line went quiet for a moment before Sophia softened her tone. "You're right. I'm sorry. But you need to move forward, Eva. I have an idea, and I need you to hear me out."
Eva leaned back against the headboard, closing her eyes. "I'm listening."
"There's a job opening in New York. Personal assistant to some big-shot CEO. The pay is great, and the change of scenery might do you some good."
Eva scoffed. "New York? Sophia, I don't even leave my house most days. How am I supposed to handle New York?"
"By trying," Sophia countered. "Eva, I'm not saying it'll be easy, but staying in that house, clinging to the past, isn't helping. You deserve more than this. Adam would want—" She hesitated. "You deserve a chance to live again."
Tears welled in Eva's eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. "What if I fail?"
"Then you'll come back, and we'll figure something else out. But you won't fail. I know you, Eva. You're stronger than you think."
The words hung in the air, a lifeline in the storm of her grief.
By the end of the week, Eva had packed up her life—or what was left of it. The house she and Adam had bought together was sold, and every box she packed felt like saying goodbye all over again. Yet, as she boarded the train to New York, there was a flicker of something she hadn't felt in years: hope.
The bustling streets of New York greeted Eva with an intensity that left her breathless. The cacophony of honking taxis, chatter, and the distant hum of subway trains was a stark contrast to the quiet suburban life she'd left behind.
She clutched the piece of paper Sophia had given her, the address of her new job scribbled in bold letters. Burns Enterprises.
The towering glass skyscraper loomed above her, its sleek design a testament to wealth and power. As Eva stepped into the lobby, her nerves threatened to consume her. Men and women in tailored suits hurried past, their polished appearances making her feel out of place in her modest outfit.
"May I help you?" The receptionist's clipped tone broke through Eva's spiraling thoughts.
"Uh, yes. I'm here for the assistant position."
The woman raised a perfectly arched brow. "You'll want the thirty-fourth floor. Good luck."
Eva's heart raced as she rode the elevator, the numbers lighting up one by one. She'd rehearsed her introduction a dozen times, but now her mind was blank.
When the doors slid open, she stepped into a luxurious office space, all marble floors and floor-to-ceiling windows. At the far end of the room stood a man.
Nathan Burns.
He was taller than she'd imagined, his tailored suit emphasizing a broad frame. Dark hair, sharp jawline, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see straight through her.
"You're Eva Blackwell?" he asked, his voice smooth but authoritative.
"Yes, Mr. Burns," she replied, forcing herself to meet his gaze.
He studied her for a moment, then gestured for her to sit. "Let's get one thing straight. I don't have time for incompetence. My schedule is chaotic, my demands are high, and I expect perfection. Can you handle that?"
The challenge in his tone sparked something in Eva. She straightened her spine. "I can handle it."
Nathan's lips quirked into a half-smile, as if amused by her determination. "We'll see."
Eva left the interview with a whirlwind of emotions. She wasn't sure if she'd impressed Nathan or merely entertained him, but she couldn't deny the spark of adrenaline she'd felt in his presence.
For the first time in years, Eva felt alive.