Emma
Walking into Elion felt like coming home to a house that no longer belonged to me.
The lobby was the same—same sleek lines, same logo etched into the glass, same security guard who waved me through with a familiar smile. But the air had shifted.
Friday mornings used to be mine. The coffee and danish Sarah always brought, waiting beside my computer. The calm before the chaos, when I could think without interruption. Now I was a visitor in my own company, badge still valid but authority diluted—split between two worlds that didn't quite fit together.
I found them in the third-floor conference room—my conference room, though I supposed it wasn't anymore. Kevin had his feet up on the table, tablet balanced on his knee. David was buried in a stack of contracts, pen tucked behind his ear. And Jennifer...
Jennifer was watching the door like she'd been waiting for me.
"There she is," Kevin announced, swinging his feet down. "The prodigal CEO returns."
I rolled my eyes but smiled regardless. "I was gone a week, Kevin."
"Felt longer." He grinned, stretching back in his chair. "Place falls apart without you. David's been stress-eating. Jennifer's been stress-organizing. I've been stress-napping."
"So business as usual," I said.
David snorted without looking up from his contracts.
I set my bag on the table and pulled out the chair at the head—force of habit—before catching myself. I wasn't running this meeting. I wasn't running anything here anymore.
I sat anyway. Old instincts die hard.
"How's everything holding up?" I asked, scanning their faces. "Any fires I should know about?"
"Nothing we couldn't handle," Jennifer said curtly, flipping a page. "Integration paperwork is moving. Legal's reviewing the final employment contracts. Standard stuff."
Her tone. That wasn't the voice she normally used. My brows drew together, but I kept moving.
"Good. That's good." I turned to Kevin. "Did Marcie end up liking the ballet shoes?"
"You mean the ballet shoes Kevin never paid me back for?" she snapped, finally looking up to glare at Kevin.
He winced, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah … sorry about that. I forgot."
"I reminded you about it for a week straight!"
"Things have been busy," Kevin tried.
"You just got done telling Emma things were fine." She flipped another page—hard. "Pick a side."
David glanced at her sideways, catching the agitation in every word, then at me.
As close to calling someone out as David was physically capable of.
Kevin froze—long-marriage survival instincts kicking in.
Angry woman, freeze. Apologize.He'd explained the tactic to me over a beer one night when his wife had kicked him out for forgetting their anniversary. Something he made sure to never do again.
"Um…" I started. "If that's all—"
The overhead lights were harsher than Iremembered, the room colder than it used to be, bright enough to make the table's glossy surface glare.
"Actually, Emma. I wanted to ask you something."
The air in the room shifted. Kevin's grin faded. David finally looked up from his contracts.
