Chapter 4 : Why Did You Leave?

Emma could hear her heart beat louder than her footsteps.

She walked behind the receptionist, down a hallway that seemed longer with every step. Her skirt still clung to her legs from the sprint earlier. Hair strands falling around her face and her blouse still damp from the sweat. Her fingers tugged down at her skirt to ease the tension but nothing helped. A sudden flush climbed her neck, blooming against her cheeks.

The woman ahead didn’t slow down or speak. Her heels tapped in a practiced rhythm, confidence from walking this hall countless times. Finally she stopped at the end of the corridor—at a black, gleaming door.

“He’s ready for you,” she said without looking back. Then she turned and walked away. Emma stood still. Staring at the door.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides. This was it. The moment she’d spent the last five years trying to forget, and the last week trying to prepare for.

The air felt heavy around her as she raised her knuckles and knocked before taking a pause.

Then came a voice. It was smooth, deep, with a commanding tone. “Come in.”

She pushed the door open slowly, her breath caught in her chest. Emma stepped inside gently and quietly closed the door behind her. The room had sleek, cold gray walls, and a dark wood desk. A minimalist touch of class.

And behind the desk, back turned in a chair was the silhouette she knew as well as her own shadow. Those broad shoulders and raven black hair. There was no mistaking.

It was Cole.

He turned back slowly the moment the door clicked shut. His face stern with an awkward yet unreadable look. He was everything she remembered. His presence, the quiet sharpness in his gaze—and yet, somehow more.

His slick black hair was combed back, not a strand loose. His jaw, once boyish and a little soft, now cut clean lines across his face. His black shirt fit like it had been stitched directly onto him, the sleeves rolled to reveal strong, veined forearms. His collar was open, just enough to show a flash of silver chain against skin. He smelled of money and radiated power.

“Emily Grace?” he asked, his face still glued to the tablet in his hand.

“Yes. That… that's me.” She blurted out, her composure failing her.

His brow twitched as he raised his gaze to meet hers. “ You're late!” His voice boomed.

Emma’s spine straightened. “I—I’m so sorry. The traffic was…”

He waved a hand dismissively, causing her to stop talking.

A long pause came next but the silence was loud. It was as though he enjoyed watching her squirm. After what seemed like an eternity of torture, he finally gestured toward the chair beside her.

“You may have a seat.”

She moved without arguing, crossing the room quickly, trying to ignore how uneven her stride felt. She tried to place herself gently on the seat, fighting off the urge to slump on it from all the exhaustion. She placed her bag in her lap and kept her hands folded, one over the other, to hide the slight tremor.

Cole didn’t look at her again.

Instead, he returned his focus to the tablet in front of him. His fingers tapped the glass, flipping through documents with practiced ease.

Emma stole glances at his face—his profile, the controlled movement of his jaw, the line between his brows when he concentrated.

“Those seas of blue hadn't changed,” she thought.

That hand wave played again in her head. The Cole she remembered would’ve smiled. Would’ve said something like

“Rough morning?” Maybe even laughed with her about it.

This wasn’t him. Or maybe it was and she had just never known this side.

His voice pulled her back.

“Tell me a bit about your work experience. What kind of work did you do previously?”

Emma cleared her throat. “I was… at a diner. I worked the front most of the time. I took orders too and also handled inventory.”

He nodded faintly, still scrolling. “You left recently?”

She hesitated, unsure how much truth to offer. “Yes. I just quit.”

That made him pause. His hand stilled before he leaned back in the chair, drumming his fingers lightly.

“Great. Now he's going to think I'm a sore loser wasting away for the past 5 years.” She mused.

Then, for the first time, he looked at her properly. Their eyes locked and everything else seemed to fade.

His stare was something else entirely. So cold and unreasonable. And yet… focused.

He studied her like a puzzle. Like searching for something familiar but misplaced. His eyes scanned her features briefly then returned to her eyes.

She held her breath. Was he trying to figure it out? Did he recognize her?

She couldn’t tell.

“I needed something new,” she nervously added, her voice quiet. “A fresh start.”

His jaw moved slightly, but not in reaction. His gaze stayed on her for a moment longer.

“You look familiar,” he said slowly.

Emma tried hard not to flinch. “I’m sorry sir but I don't believe we've met before” she replied, forcing a smile.

It wasn't entirely a lie, not to her at least. This version of Cole was identical to her old love in face and name only. His attitude and demeanor was of a different person entirely.

Cole sat still, pondering her statement. He didn't respond. Just watched her for a moment too long.

He slid the tablet with smooth motion and took a deep breath. His eyes narrowed. Emma’s pulse spiked. The room suddenly felt hot as she noticed her throat go dry. And then, without warning, he leaned forward, his elbows resting gently on the table, hands folded in front of him. His posture was a little less rigid now.

The room shifted with that single.

But his voice, calm and direct, cut through the space between them like a knife.

Then the question dropped. Like a perfectly timed bomb that blew up all her sense of reasoning and rehearsed composure.

“So tell me… why did you leave?”