ARIA
Vanessa Carter didn't just return she took over the atmosphere.
By the end of the week, her laughter had become part of the office soundtrack—soft, elegant, and impossible to ignore. She had the kind of charm that didn't have to try. People turned to her when she entered a room, like light followed her on command.
I hated that I understood why Nathan once loved her.
She was the kind of woman who made ambition look graceful. Who never raised her voice but still made people listen. Everything about her was curated the red lipstick, the fitted suits, and the perfectly timed smile that made you question if she'd already won before you started playing.
And somehow, Vivian had given her the perfect role: liaison for Carter Holdings and Hale Technologies' joint campaign my campaign.
Every email now came signed with both our names. Every meeting had her sitting beside Nathan. Every headline read like a slow-motion undoing of my peace.
"Old flames reunite to restore Hale Tech's image."
That one burned most.
By Thursday, I'd started working from my office with the door half closed a thin shield between me and the sound of her voice drifting from the glass hallway.
Sophie slipped in around noon, holding lunch and looking like she wanted to throw something. "You've been trending again."
"Of course I have," I said. "What is it this time?"
"Apparently, Vanessa Carter and Nathan Hale are the 'power duo' saving the Hale brand."
I stopped typing. "They actually called them that?"
"Yeah. Power duo. You'd think she coded the software and raised the stock price herself."
I tried to laugh, but it cracked halfway out. "It's fine."
"No, it's not." Sophie dropped the sandwich in front of me. "You're letting them bury you alive and calling it professionalism."
"What am I supposed to do? Argue with gossip? Punch a billionaire's ex in front of investors?"
"I'd pay to see that," she muttered.
I smiled weakly. "It's just business, Soph."
"Sure. And fire is just light until it burns."
Before I could answer, a knock at the door interrupted us.
Vanessa.
She smiled politely. "Hope I'm not interrupting."
"Not at all," I lied.
"I just wanted to check if you got the updated proposal for next week's pitch. Nathan and I made some revisions."
Sophie's eyebrow arched. "Nathan and you, huh?"
Vanessa ignored her. "It's on your shared drive. I streamlined the talking points—kept them simple and personal. You know how Nathan likes things clean and emotional."
Something twisted in my chest at how easily she said his name how familiar it sounded in her voice.
I nodded. "I'll review it."
"Perfect." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "And Aria? I know things have been… uncomfortable. I just want you to know, I admire what you've done here. Truly."
"Thank you," I said, my voice colder than intended.
"Not everyone could stand under this kind of spotlight and still look composed."
"I'm good at pretending."
"Pretending's a survival skill," she said softly. "You'll need it."
Then she left heels clicking, perfume lingering.
Sophie turned to me. "That woman's a walking headline and a quiet threat."
"Yeah," I whispered. "And the worst part? She's good at her job."
That evening, I stayed late again half working, half thinking. The office was mostly dark, except for Nathan's light glowing across the hall. I told myself I wouldn't look. Then I did.
Through the glass, I saw them.
Vanessa was standing by his desk, laughing at something he said. Her hand brushed his arm casually too casually and he didn't move away.
My chest tightened until it hurt.
He wasn't smiling like a man in love. He was smiling like someone trying not to remember why it ended. But to anyone watching, it was enough to make a story believable.
I closed my laptop and stood before my thoughts could finish.
I made it to the elevator before the doors slid open and a voice stopped me.
"Aria."
Nathan.
He looked tired hair slightly mussed, tie undone, the way he always looked at the end of long days.
"You're leaving early," he said.
"It's almost ten."
"Still early for you."
"I didn't want to interrupt your meeting."
"Vanessa just left."
"I noticed."
He sighed. "This isn't what it looks like."
I laughed softly. "Then what does it look like, Nathan?"
"She's here because of my mother. That's all."
"Then why does it feel like she's here because of me?"
He went quiet.
I looked up at him, my voice steadier than I felt. "Every time I walk into a room, I feel like I'm trespassing on a life you already lived. She fits this world. I don't. And maybe that's exactly what your mother wants me to see."
"That's not true."
"Isn't it?"
He stepped closer, frustration flickering in his eyes. "You think I wanted this? You think I want her here?"
"Then why didn't you stop it?"
"Because every time I fight my mother, you pay for it!" he snapped. "And I can't keep watching you get hurt because of me."
My breath caught. "Then what are you saying?"
He exhaled shakily. "I'm saying maybe we need to stop giving her ammunition."
I stared at him, understanding settling in like cold water. "You mean distance."
He looked away. "Just for now."
There it was the slow, silent breaking of something that hadn't even begun properly.
I nodded, swallowing hard. "If that's what you need."
"It's what's safest," he said softly.
"For whom?"
He didn't answer.
I left before the tears could fall.
That night, lying awake in my apartment, I replayed the moment his face, his voice, the way he said "safe" like it meant something other than apart.
Maybe Sophie was right.
Fire didn't care if it burned on purpose.
And Nathan Hale was the most beautiful fire I'd ever touched.