The Cracks in Goodbye [POV: Nate]
The moment I stepped into the apartment, exhaustion weighed on me like a lead vest. The night had been long, brutal. My scrubs still smelled of antiseptic, sweat, and something darker—the metallic sting of blood that had refused to leave my hands, no matter how many times I scrubbed them raw.
I barely had time to process the silence in the apartment before I realized Hannah wasn’t home.
A slow frown pulled at my brows as I glanced around. The place was untouched, just as I had left it before heading to the hospital. The blanket on the couch remained folded, the coffee cup I left in the sink still sitting there, untouched.
She should’ve been here by now.
I reached for my phone, ready to call her, when the faint jingle of keys outside the door made me pause.
The lock turned. The door creaked open.
Hannah stepped inside.
The first thing I noticed was the dress. The one I bought her. The one I imagined her wearing tonight as we celebrated our first month together.
My gaze swept over her, taking in the way the silky fabric hugged her figure, how the hem barely grazed her thighs, how her hair was tousled, like fingers had been through it.
She stopped short when she saw me, her lips parting slightly, as if she hadn’t expected to find me standing there.
“Where were you?” I asked, my voice even, careful.
Hannah blinked, then quickly smoothed down the fabric of her dress, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “The club threw a party for me,” she said lightly. “A farewell thing. Lots of drinking.”
I nodded slowly, my eyes never leaving hers. “Only drinking?”
She hesitated. Just for a moment.
Then she let out a small chuckle and nodded. “Yeah. Only drinking.”
Her heels clicked against the floor as she stepped further inside, and for the first time, I caught the lingering scent clinging to her skin—a mix of perfume and alcohol. Something sweet, something sharp.
My stomach twisted, but I pushed it down. Not tonight.
I ran a hand over my face, rolling my shoulders, trying to shake off the weight of the past twelve hours. “You hungry?” I asked, forcing something lighter into my tone. “We can still do it.”
Hannah frowned slightly. “Do what?”
I exhaled. “Celebrate.”
Her lips parted, like she had almost forgotten what tonight was supposed to be. “Oh.” A soft, nervous chuckle escaped her. “Yeah. Of course.” She gestured toward the hallway. “Just let me freshen up first.”
She disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind her.
I stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty space she left behind, listening to the distant sound of water running.
***
[POV: Vincent]
The city skyline stretched endlessly outside my office window, a vast expanse of glass and steel that usually grounded me. But not today. Not after last night.
I leaned back in my chair, fingers steepled beneath my chin, my mind replaying the way Hannah had felt beneath me—the way her body arched, the soft gasp that had slipped from her lips when I took her.
It had been a mistake.
A mistake I needed to make again.
I grabbed my phone, scrolling through the unanswered calls. Blocked.
She was avoiding me.
The realization only made me want her more.
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
I exhaled sharply, pressing my fingers against my temples. “What is it?”
Ronald, my assistant, poked his head inside. “Marilyn is back,” he said carefully.
I lifted my gaze, arching a brow. “And?”
“She needs you to sign her clearance form and do her exit interview,” Ronald explained.
I exhaled through my nose, irritation creeping in. Marilyn had been my secretary for nearly a year before I fired her for getting too attached. She had been good at her job—very good—but she had started acting like she meant something to me. And I didn’t have time for that.
Ronald shifted on his feet, waiting for my response.
I was about to tell him to handle it himself when an idea struck.
Marilyn might be clingy, but she submits to me. She does exactly as I say.
And right now, I needed something to take the edge off.
I leaned forward, tapping my pen against the desk. “Send her in,” I ordered. “And while you’re at it, I need you to find a document for me—something from last year’s mergers. Take your time.”
Ronald gave a curt nod. “Understood.”
A few minutes later, the door opened again, and Marilyn stepped inside.
She wore a fitted white blouse, the top two buttons undone, giving a teasing glimpse of the curves I had once known so well. A black pencil skirt hugged her hips, ending just above her knees, her toned legs emphasized by sleek heels.
Her lips curled into a smirk as she shut the door behind her. “Long time no see, Mr. Austin.”
I didn’t bother with pleasantries. I rose from my chair and moved toward the window, pulling the blinds shut. The office dimmed slightly, cutting off any outside view.
When I turned back to her, I took my time, letting my gaze rake over her, watching the way her chest rose and fell beneath my scrutiny.
Marilyn was eager.
Always had been.
She bit her lip, taking a slow step forward, her voice dropping into something sultry. “What do you need me to do?”
I leaned against the desk, my fingers trailing along the edge, my pulse steady, my intentions clear.
“Lock the door,” I said smoothly, tilting my head slightly.
She hesitated, but just for a second. Then, with a knowing smile, she turned the lock, the soft click
I nodded, satisfied.
“Now take off your panties and get on my desk.”
