Zeke remained seated at his desk, eyes fixed on his computer screen yet not really reading. His hand rested against his chin, and his face was shadowed with fatigue. A soft knock at the door broke his reverie. Andrew entered carrying a stack of files.
"Hey, boss," Andrew began, setting the documents on the table. "Was the consultation with Dr. Bennet not going well? Your mood's been even worse today—everyone's walking on eggshells around you."
Zeke sighed and replied quietly, "The consultation went fine."
Andrew frowned slightly. "Then why do you look like you're about to tear someone apart?"
Zeke fell silent for a moment before answering in a low voice, "I had a nightmare last night. It wrecked everything."
Andrew knew better than to press further. Sensing Zeke's need for space, he simply nodded and paused. Then, unexpectedly, Zeke asked without turning his head, "Do you have a girlfriend, Drew?"
Andrew hesitated. "Yeah, I do. Why do you ask?"
Zeke slowly met his gaze, a note of disbelief playing across his features. "You don't really look like you're single. You seem... focused on work."
Andrew let out a soft laugh. "You think I'm destined to be a perpetual bachelor?"
Zeke shrugged. "I guessed as much."
Andrew chuckled and then took a seat across from him. "I've been with her for a year now. In fact, I'm planning to propose next month."
Zeke was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his tone subdued yet edged with inquiry. "Do you love her?"
"Of course," Andrew answered with a smile. "If I didn't, there'd be no reason to go to the trouble of proposing."
Zeke studied him for a long moment, then asked, "How do you know it's love?"
Andrew paused, clearly taken aback. He leaned back, trying to decipher Zeke's sudden interest. "Why are you asking about my personal life, Zeke? You're usually not one to pry into these things."
Zeke's eyes fell to his hands as he replied, "I'm just curious about your life. What's wrong with asking about a friend's romance?"
Andrew laughed softly. "Fair enough. I guess I know I love her because… I think about her all the time. I miss her even when she's with me. I feel completely comfortable with her, and I can truly imagine building a life together—even with all the ups and downs of married life. When I think about the future, I don't see it without her… She makes the world feel less sharp."
Zeke had heard thousands of definitions of love over the years—poetic, clinical, sarcastic—but none had ever lingered in his chest the way this one did.
Zeke clenched his jaw.
He felt something shift. A dull thud, deep in his gut. Uncomfortable. Foreign. Real.
Could that be what he felt around Cassidy?
Could that be… love?
He didn't like this thought. He didn't like the possibility it suggested. Because if that was love... then maybe he'd already lost it.
Zeke let out a short, bitter laugh.
It wasn't loud. It wasn't amused.
It was the kind of laugh that came from realizing something far too late—when the damage was already done.
He leaned forward, elbows on his desk, burying his face in his hands for a moment before dragging them down over his jaw.
"What a fucking joke," he muttered under his breath.
How ironic.
All this time, he thought he was immune—incapable of something as irrational and chaotic as love. He thought Cassidy was just a calm presence in a structured arrangement. Predictable. Comfortable. Disposable.
But now? Now she was gone.
Now she had walked out of his life with quiet dignity, and all that was left was the echo of her footsteps in a house that suddenly felt too silent.
Only now did he realize... He missed her. He thought about her constantly. He dreamed about her.
And it wasn't just longing—it was something deeper. Something heavier. Something he wasn't ready to name before.
Love.
He let out another bitter laugh and shook his head.
Of course it would happen like this.
Of course he'd fall in love with her... only after she was no longer his to love.
Andrew eyeing Zeke with a mix of concern and curiosity. "You okay?" he asked casually. "You were talking to yourself just now... and shaking your head."
Zeke glanced up, startled for a brief second before quickly composing himself.
"It's nothing," he said shortly, brushing off the moment with a wave of his hand. "Just... tired."
Andrew nodded slowly, clearly unconvinced but wise enough not to push.
"Alright then. I'll be at my desk if you need anything," he said, giving Zeke a polite nod before turning to leave.
The door clicked softly behind him, leaving Zeke alone once again—drowning in the weight of thoughts he couldn't untangle.
***
Zeke unlocked his phone with a flick of his thumb, his movements slow and uncertain.
His contacts list scrolled under his finger until it stopped—Cassidy Calista.
The name looked foreign now. Like a name that belonged to someone from a different lifetime.
He stared at it.
One minute passed.
Then two.
Then five.
Ten.
His thumb hovered over the call button, unmoving.
What was he even doing?
What could he possibly say? "Hi, I think I might've loved you after I let you walk away?"
She had no reason to take his call. No obligation. No attachment anymore.
They were divorced. Strangers in every legal and emotional sense. And she didn't like him. She never really did. She tolerated him. She tried, in her quiet, graceful way. But she never truly let herself fall. Because how could she?
Zeke was cold. Closed off. And now, far too late, he wanted to open a door that had already been shut.
He let out a sigh and locked his phone again, tossing it face-down on his desk.
No.
He had no right to call her.
No reason… at least, not one that she would care to hear.
But still, her name lingered in the back of his mind like a ghost refusing to leave.
Just as Zeke was about to dismiss his restless thoughts, another idea surfaced.
He picked up his phone again—this time not to call Cassidy, but someone else.
He tapped the contact and waited.
"Blake," he said as soon as the line connected.
"Yes, sir?" came the steady reply.
Blake Carter. Ex-military. Sharp, disciplined, and fiercely loyal. Zeke had trusted him with his personal security for nearly a decade. As head of his private security detail, Blake rarely made mistakes—and never missed a detail.
"Are the men still keeping eyes on Cassidy?" Zeke asked.
There was a pause before Blake responded, "Yes, sir. As per your last instructions. You didn't order us to stand down."
Zeke leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple.
Right. He hadn't.
Even after the divorce, the silent protection detail had continued without question.
Before everything unraveled, Zeke had asked Blake to quietly assign a team to watch over Cassidy. From a distance. No interference. Just protection.
A standard precaution in their world. A way of caring—without appearing to care.
And of course, Blake didn't know they were no longer married.
"She's still under standard low-profile surveillance," Blake continued. "No signs of trouble. Madam mostly keeps to her routine."
Zeke's eyes narrowed slightly at the word Madam. It lingered like a ghost of something that no longer existed. Still, he said nothing.
"She's living in a new apartment now," Blake added. "A luxury building downtown, West 57th and 8th. The Madison Tower Residences. My men confirmed it's registered in her name."
Zeke gave a subtle nod.
He already knew she had moved.
What mattered more was that she hadn't moved into the apartment he'd offered in the alimony settlement.
She had refused it. Bought her own place instead.
That was Cassidy—independent to the core. Even after everything.
Blake continued, "There's one more thing. It appears she may have stepped down from her position at her family's company. Some of my men overheard gossip from the employees she used to work with. Nothing confirmed, but... it seems likely."
Zeke didn't respond immediately.
Cassidy had moved on—physically, professionally, and perhaps… emotionally.
And yet here he was, holding onto invisible threads, wondering why she still lingered in his mind.