Catherine's breath was shallow.
The knock came again — three taps. Calm. Measured.
She stood frozen in front of the door, one hand clutching the knot of her robe tighter, the other hovering near the knob. Her mind raced through possibilities. Could it be….. No. It couldn't be him. Could it?
But a part of her, a reckless, foolish part, hoped it was.
She turned the knob slowly and cracked the door open just enough to see who was there.
"Jesus, finally. I was about to call the fire department," Rina said, pushing the door open the rest of the way with her shoulder, arms full of a grocery bag and a bottle of wine.
Catherine let out a shaky breath, relief and disappointment crashing into her chest at once.
Of course it was Rina.
"Hey," she said weakly, stepping aside to let her in.
Rina stood there, arms crossed, eyes sharp but tired. "Finally. I thought you'd disappeared for good."
"I'm here," Catherine said quietly, stepping aside.
Rina didn't move. She stared at Catherine like she was searching for something beneath the surface. "You missed work. Twice. And you're ghosting everyone. What's going on?" she said as she dropped the stuff she brought on the counter
Catherine swallowed hard. "I just needed some time off. It's nothing."
"Nothing?" Rina's voice dropped, sharper now. "Since when is disappearing and ignoring texts 'nothing'?"
Catherine's jaw tightened. "I'm fine."
Rina took a step forward. "You're not fine. I see it in your eyes. The way you're holding back like you're carrying something heavy."
Catherine's eyes flickered away, ashamed. "I can handle it."
"No, you can't. Not alone." Rina's voice softened, but the concern didn't fade.Rina's eyes softened for a moment, but her tone stayed firm. "You're lying to yourself. That night with Jason… it wasn't just sex for you. I see it. You see it."
Catherine's breath hitched. "It's complicated."
Rina shook her head, stepping closer. "It doesn't have to be. You're running, Catherine. Running from what? Him? Yourself?"
Catherine's fingers clenched the edge of her robe. "I don't know if I'm ready."
"Ready or not, it's not going away." Rina's voice cracked just a bit. "You have to decide to face it or keep hiding".
Catherine's heart slammed in her chest. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
For a long moment, silence stretched between them.
Finally, Catherine whispered, "I'm scared."
Rina's face softened, and she reached out, grabbing Catherine's hand. "Then let me be scared with you. You don't have to face it by yourself."
Catherine's breath hitched. She wanted to tell her everything. But the truth was still tangled up inside — a secret too raw, too fragile.
"I'm not ready," she said finally, voice barely audible.
Rina squeezed her hand. "That's okay. Just don't shut me out."
Catherine nodded, the weight on her chest easing just a little.Rina smiled, almost sadly. "Start by showing up. For work, for yourself. And maybe for him."
"Come on," Rina said, nudging her toward the door. "Let's get you out of here. Fresh air, a little coffee. You need it."
As Catherine followed her friend out, she realized maybe she wasn't as alone as she thought.
Jason
Jason leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowed at the glowing laptop screen in front of him. His office was dead quiet, save for the low hum of the AC and the occasional clink of ice in the glass he'd forgotten on his desk.
The guest list was open , again.
He had memorized it at this point. Every name, every face tied to a LinkedIn profile or security photo. Still, he stared like something new might jump out at him if he looked hard enough.
Nothing.
No spark of recognition. No name that matched the face that haunted him.
The woman who had come and gone like smoke.
The woman who hadn't asked for anything not his name, not his number, not even a breakfast croissant after wrecking his entire goddamn mind.
She hadn't wanted anything. And somehow, that made him want everything.
Jason exhaled and raked a hand through his hair, jaw tight.
He didn't do this. He didn't chase. He didn't linger. He didn't lose sleep over strangers with cherry-gloss lips and eyes that burned like trouble.
And yet…
"Dude."
Jason didn't look up.
"Jason."
Still no response.
"Jayyy-son," Zane Carter drawled out his name like an annoyed game show host.
Jason sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Zane, I swear—if you're here to ask me which tie goes best with your stupid brown loafers again—"
Zane strode into the room, grinning like a fox who knew where all the chickens were buried. "Nope. I'm here to rescue you from whatever tragic spiral you've got going on with that guest list."
Jason gave him a look. "What do you want?"
"You mean aside from a raise and someone to finally appreciate my excellent music taste?"
Jason arched an eyebrow. "Zane."
"Okay, okay." Zane held up both hands like a peace offering, then leaned forward with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. "I might've found something."
Jason straightened in his seat before he could stop himself.
Zane didn't miss it. "Ah. So she does exist after all."
"Talk."
"You remember that broken camera feed outside the north ballroom? The one security swore was useless?"
Jason nodded, already tense.
"Well… our IT guy managed to salvage some of the footage. It's glitchy, grainy, but you can see faces and guess who walked past it around midnight?"
Jason's pulse kicked.
Zane grinned. "Your mystery girl. Alone. Looking like she just escaped a crime of passion."
Jason leaned forward, voice low. "You're sure?"
"Positive. She's got that same look — like she just survived a war and didn't win, but damn, she left a mark."
Jason's throat was dry. "Do we have a name?"
Zane's grin stretched. "Not yet. But we've got a face. And I've already sent it to be matched against the gala's staff and guest records."
Jason stared at him. "You've been working on this behind my back?"
Zane flopped into the chair across from him, arms behind his head. "Please. You've been brooding like some tragic Victorian poet for three days. Someone had to take initiative."
Jason didn't smile. But something flickered behind his eyes. Hope. Frustration. A storm waiting to break.
Zane tapped his phone. "Give it a few hours. If she's on the list, we'll have a name."
Jason looked back at his screen, then at the city lights beyond his office windows.
A name.
He didn't eve
n know what he'd do with it. But not knowing? That was worse.
She was unfinished business.
And Jason Smith didn't leave anything unfinished.