The morning of the merger arrived beneath a dull, heavy sky, clouds stretched across it like a warning no one wanted to read. To me, it felt appropRavente—almost fitting.
I stayed in bed long after Nathaniel had gotten ready, pulling the blanket up to my chin and letting my body tremble in exaggerated weakness.
“Amara, enough,” he said sharply, already dressed in a perfectly tailored navy suit. He kept glancing at his watch, his patience thinning with every passing second. “We need to leave in an hour. The investors are already expecting us.”
“I… I really can’t,” I murmured, curling slightly as if in pain, one hand pressed to my abdomen. “I feel awful, Nathaniel. I think the dengue might be coming back. I’m dizzy… I can’t even sit up properly.”
He let out a frustrated sound and threw his hands up.
“Seriously? Today of all days?” he snapped. “You choose today to collapse?”
He began pacing the room, fingers dragging through his carefully styled hair, unraveling his composure.
“This is the most important day of everything we’ve built—everything I’ve built—and you’re lying there like this. Why can’t you just pull yourself together?”
His voice was rising when the door suddenly creaked open.
“Is there a problem?”
Julian stood at the doorway, steady despite the cane in his hand, his sharp gaze immediately taking in the situation.
In an instant, Nathaniel changed. The irritation vanished, replaced by concern so quick it looked rehearsed. He rushed to the bedside and sat beside me, gently brushing my hair back as though he had been worried all along.
“Grandfather,” he said softly, his voice thick with fabricated worry. “Amara isn’t feeling well. She’s been dizzy all morning. I’m really concerned about her.”
“I’m so sorry, Grandpa,” I added weakly, letting my voice tremble. “I really wanted to attend today.”
Julian frowned and stepped closer, placing his palm on my forehead.
“She’s burning up,” he said firmly. Then he looked at Nathaniel. “She’s staying here. Her health comes first. You can handle the signing without her, can’t you?”
Nathaniel hesitated, panic flashing briefly in his eyes before he forced a response.
“I… her signature is required for the final transfer of shares,” he said quickly. “But maybe… we can bring the documents here instead?”
“No,” Julian replied immediately. “That won’t work. The investors want it done at the office. We’ll postpone if necessary. I’ll handle them.”
He gave Nathaniel a pointed look. “Take care of your wife.”
“Yes, of course,” Nathaniel answered at once.
He left hurriedly and returned about ten minutes later carrying a tray.
“Here,” he said, forcing a small smile as he set it down. “I brought you something to eat. Your favorite—shrimp bisque.”
I stared at the bowl. The pale, creamy soup swirled slowly, almost unsettling in its appearance.
“Shrimp,” I repeated flatly.
“Yes,” he said, lifting the spoon toward me. “You always like this. Eat. You need your strength.”
I turned my face slightly away and pushed the spoon down.
“I’m allergic to shrimp, Nathaniel.”
He froze mid-motion, the spoon hovering in the air.
“What? No, that’s not true. You order this all the time.”
“That’s Raven,” I said quietly. “She’s the one who likes shrimp. The last time I ate it, I went into anaphylactic shock. You left me in the hospital. Don’t you remember?”
A heavy silence settled between us. His eyes moved from the bowl back to me, as if only now realizing there were things about me he had never bothered to know.
“Do you even love me?” I asked softly.
I held his gaze, searching for something real beneath all the noise.
He reacted too quickly.
“Of course I do,” he said, setting the bowl down a little too forcefully. “I just… I’m overwhelmed. I forgot. I’m sorry.”
I smiled then, small and tired, as if something inside me had already accepted the answer long before he gave it.
“Right,” I said gently. “Good to know.”
His phone buzzed again. He looked at it immediately, restless, as though unable to stay still.
“I can’t stay here,” he said abruptly, standing up. “I need to handle something business-related before the meeting. Last-minute issues.”
“Business,” I echoed.
“Yes,” he replied quickly. Then he pointed at me, urgency slipping through his mask. “But you have to be there later. Don’t forget the documents. Everything depends on that signing.”
“I will,” I nodded softly. “I’m sorry.”
“Good.”
He grabbed his jacket and left in a rush.
The moment the door closed, the entire act fell away.
I sat up.
The weakness, the trembling, the illness—it all disappeared as if it had never been there.
My burner phone vibrated beside me.
“It’s done, Miss Amara,” the butler’s gravelly voice reported. “He picked her up. They’re at the OB-GYN clinic on Fourth Street. He hasn’t let go of her hand.”
“Alright,” I said quietly. “Good work.”
Another notification came in right after—a message from Van.
Everything is ready. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the silence settle properly around me.
Nathaniel never came back that night. He only sent a message instructing me to appear at the merger the next day. Later, through the butler, I learned he had spent the evening buying baby clothes with Raven, despite not even knowing the child’s gender yet.
That was all I needed to know.
It made leaving far easier than it should have been.
The next day, I stood on the deck of a private yacht, the wind pulling sharply at my hair as the shoreline faded further behind me. The world I had known was slowly shrinking into the distance.
Ahead of me was a private island in the Maldives.
Van was waiting.
My phone rang just as the sea opened wider around us.
“Hubby” flashed on the screen.
I answered.
“Where are you?!” Nathaniel’s voice came through immediately, loud and frantic. I could hear voices and movement behind him, the chaos of a room full of waiting investors. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago! Everyone is already asking questions. You postponed yesterday and promised today!”
I leaned lightly against the railing, watching the waves break below.
“I’m sorry, Nathaniel,” I said, my tone calm and almost airy. “I don’t think I can make it. I feel a bit… disconnected.”
“Disconnected?” he repeated, incredulous. “What does that even mean? Get in a car right now. I’ll send someone for you.”
“There’s no need,” I replied. “But if you want, you can go home instead.”
“Home?” he echoed. “Why would I go there?”
“Because I already signed the documents,” I said smoothly.
Silence followed.
“You… signed them?” he asked, slower this time.
“Yes,” I lied easily. “Grandpa had them sent over. He said I could sign without attending. They’re on the vanity table. There’s also something else there—consider it a small gift for the merger. Maybe even for an early anniversary. Why don’t you check?”
His tone changed immediately.
“Oh—okay! That’s perfect. I’m coming right now. Twenty minutes, I’ll be there. You’re amazing, Amara. I knew I could trust you.”
“I’ll be waiting,” I said softly. “And Nathaniel… bring me strawberry cake.”
“Got it! I love you!”
“Sure,” I replied. “Goodbye.”
A pause.
Then I added, almost under my breath, “Forever.”
I lowered the phone slowly.
I looked at it one last time.
Then I raised my arm and threw it out as far as I could.
It spun once through the air, catching the sunlight briefly, before disappearing into the deep blue water without a sound.
