After spending several days at the Moreaux mansion, Arno finally returned to her apartment. The silence greeted her like an old friend. Familiar and comforting.
She exhaled and sank into the couch. Ah...this familiar scent— I'm back...she snuggled on the couch like a happy teenage girl.
She was feeling better now— The fever was gone as well as the aches. But the ghost of emotional bruises still lingered like faint fingerprints on paper. But It's okay now, she thought.
Those last few days at Lucien's place... he had been very kind, hovering like an overprotective hawk in tailored made designer suits. Bringing her food, adjusting the thermostat, and scolding her for not finishing her meal like an annoyed husband.
Arno chuckled, and immediately her cheeks flashed a soft shade of red. Am...I feeling shy or what?
"God," she murmured, hiding her face in her hands. "Get a grip Arno." Or it would be too embarrassing!
Then she caught her reflection in the mirror across the room. Tired from the sickness even though she recovered. But at least not broken anymore like she'd once thought she was. Lucien insisted she stayed there for few more days untill she recover her strength, but, she didn't want to bother him and take advantage of his kindness.
Turned out, I was blind before,
From the person, Auren, I wanted the care most... he gave me the deepest hurt leaving me miserable.
She let out a long sigh. Heavy, like she was pushing out months of heartache from her lungs.
"No more looking back," she said firmly, pointing at herself in the mirror. Then, as if sealing a silent contract, she curled her fingers into a fist and pressed it against her chest. With a sharp inhale—
"Never again," she whispered.
Right on cue, her stomach growled.
She blinked, then laughed. "Hehehe... didn't I eat just an hour ago? Why am I hungry again?"
She stood up, stretching her arms over her head. "Huh! Let's get takeout. Again. What's wrong with me? Recently I've been feeling way too hungry…"
Meanwhile, at Moreaux Tech Tower
"Mr. Moreaux, we finalized the date of our meeting with the Ruxin Group," Shan announced, holding the scheduled plan as he walked beside me.
I nodded absently. "The meeting's fixed for this evening at 7 PM?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good." I slowed my pace. "Do you have any other updates you want to inform me of?"
Shan paused, then glanced at me. "No... Mr. President." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "Is there something bothering you?"
I cleared my throat. "Ahem—no. I just meant... any news about Arno?"
"Oh! You mean Dr. Solace?" Shan smirked, teasing. "Aiyaa... no news, sir."
I must've made a face.
Because the next moment, Shan added lightly, "Mr. President, you look... disappointed."
I didn't respond. Just kept walking toward the boardroom, my hand stuffed in my pocket, thumb tapping idly at my phone screen...not checking messages. Just checking if she texted. She didn't.
Inside the grand conference room, the department heads were already seated. The glass walls shimmered under the city's morning sun. Everyone straightened as I entered.
"Good morning," I said, sliding into my chair at the head of the table.
"Good morning, Mr. President," came the chorus.
"Let's begin," I said, folding my hands in front of me. "Give me the latest updates- sales, development, cybersecurity, everything. Be concise."
The CTO started first, outlining the latest software patch results. The head of HR followed, mentioning new hires and a minor internal conflict in a remote branch.
As the conversation rolled on, I nodded, occasionally making notes.
Then I leaned back slightly, eyes scanning the table. "Listen," I said, voice calm but authoritative. "I want a clean, strong quarter. No miscommunication, I won't' tolerate any delays. I don't care if the Kaelins or the Ruxins throw tantrums—I want our numbers to rise like we're allergic to failure. Understood?"
A few chuckled nervously.
The Head of Finance nodded. "Crystal clear, sir."
"Good," I said, standing. "The meeting with Ruxin is in five hours. Be sharp."
As I walked out of the room, I could feel Shan trailing behind me, ready to give another update, but all I could think of was the quiet echo in my head—
She doesn't even care about me or think about me...!
---
Back at Arno's Apartment...
She was halfway through a bite of reheated dumpling—
"ACK...!"
The piece lodged itself sideways in her throat.
Arno's eyes widened. She slapped her chest. Cough-cough!
She hurriedly bent over the sink, face red and eyes tearing up. After a very unglamorous thirty seconds of gagging, coughing, and praying to every medical deity she knew, the dumpling finally gave way and slid down, leaving her gasping, red-faced, and mortified… in front of her houseplant.
She clutched the counter. "Did someone curse me or something?" she muttered between wheezes, glaring at the innocent soy sauce bottle... What bad karma did I commit?
"First heartbreak, then fever, and now choked-by-dumpling? Seriously?"
With a long breath, she straightened up and reached for a glass of water. "I need to sage this apartment. Or a full-body exorcism. Or at least a rice cooker that doesn't try to kill me."
She glanced at the wall clock. Crap— Time was running close.
She had to get to the hospital. Her shift started soon, and she was already ten minutes late just fighting dumplings and existential dread.
In a flash, Arno washed her face, threw on a clean set of scrubs, grabbed her coat, stethoscope, and ID badge. She looked in the mirror.
"Alright. Time to pretend I've got my life together."
Just as she slung her bag over her shoulder and reached for the doorknob, her phone buzzed.
A message from Nurse Coco:
"Morning, Dr. Solace! Just a heads-up, a new neurosurgeon's joining us next week. Looks like you won't be the youngest genius in the department anymore."
Arno paused. "A new... what now?"
She read it again, brow raised.
"Oh great," she mumbled. "As if my pride wasn't already running on fumes."
---