I turned away from the window, glanced at my phone—out of habit—then turned it face down.The door to my office opened without ceremony pulling me from my thoughts, and I looked up to see Mavis standing in the doorway wearing a blood-red pantsuit.Her eyes were sharp, scanning me like she always did when she knew something was off.She didn’t even have to say it.The silence between us was thick, charged with unspoken understanding.
“You’re still waiting for his call, aren’t you?”Her voice broke the quiet, soft but direct.She didn’t need to ask; she already knew.
I met her gaze.Steady.“Nope.I’m done shrinking.”
That earned a nod.
“Good.The longer you wait for forgiveness...”she said, folding herself into the chair across from me, “...the more power you hand over.”
“I know.I haven’t texted him once,” I replied.And this time, it wasn’t a lie.I was done checking my phone like a fool every hour, waiting for a call that never came.“I’ve come to realize that I can’t make him forgive me.”
Mavis exhaled, frustration flashing in her dark eyes.“No, you can’t—so stop trying.You apologized and made it clear how you feel about him.Now it’s up to him to decide.”
I nodded, exhaling slowly.
She shook her head, crossing one leg over the other.“You, my friend, are too damn beautiful and smart to be sitting here acting like you don’t have a choice in this.”
The truth of her words stung, but she was right.
“Peyton Powell is a boss!”Her gaze softened, just slightly, but the steel in her voice remained sharp and unwavering.“Girlfriend, let him chase you.”
I pushed back from my desk, standing with a force that surprised even me.“Damn right,” I muttered, more to myself than to her.“Let’s go eat lunch.”
Lunch helped.Not because it distracted me, but because it reminded me who I was outside of Creed.
I sat between Mavis and Dixie, listening to them talk about their new roles, the weight of their success tangible, electric.We had come so far, and now we were three of the most powerful women at IWM.I allowed that to sink in.Mavis was right.I was successful and damn good at what I did.There was a lot to be thankful for.That was what I needed to focus on.
Back at the office, I moved on autopilot.Emails.Reports.Client calls.Celine handed me a stack of messages, and I flipped through them.By the time I was back at my desk—focused and grounded—a calendar alert popped up.
Executive Meeting – 3:00 p.m.
My pulse ticked up—but didn’t spiral.
Creed would be there because the financial meeting required it.
By the time I entered the boardroom, the energy was sharp and contained.The murmurs of executives filled the air—low voices discussing figures, deals, and projections.Calculated movements.High-stakes decisions.
But none of it mattered.Because he was there.Creed was seated at the head of the table.An unspoken force that commanded the room without a single word.
He looked exactly as he always did—immaculate, composed, impenetrable.But I saw it now.The tightness wasn’t dominance.It was restraint.
When his eyes lifted and met mine, I didn’t flinch.Didn’t soften.Didn’t wait.I took the seat to his right.
The meeting moved fast—strategy, projections, growth curves.When I spoke, I didn’t watch him for a reaction.I spoke like a woman who no longer needed permission to exist in the room.
And then it happened.
A moment so small, so fleeting, but it shattered everything.I reached for my water glass just as Creed lifted his own.And in that instant, his hand brushed mine.It was barely a touch.The reaction wasn’t dramatic, but that’s what made it lethal.
Creed froze.
Not visibly.Not to anyone else.But I felt it.The way his breath hitched.The way his hand slowed.The way control tightened rather than flowed.He set his glass down carefully.
Too carefully.
And then he looked at me.Not through me.Not past me.At me.There was no anger in his eyes.No punishment.Just recognition.
The meeting ended without ceremony.
