NEVER BROKEN: A SailorMoon Fanfiction

The Man from Her Past

AN: Again, the Three Lights own the lyrics and the song.

Raye was standing in front of Darien and waiting for him to look up. Finally, he did.

"You may go home, now," he told his secretary of four years. He and Serena were separated for almost two years now. And counting...

Damn.

"Would you like to go out on a concert tonight?" she dared.

Darien's expression did not alter. He and Raye dated once. That was before she became his secretary, a few months before he met his wife. Blast! His sense of time need not concern pre and post Serena meetings.

"Not particularly." He continued reading the document in his hand.

"It's my birthday," she said. At that moment, Raye almost hated herself. It sounded as if she was begging.

Darien shifted his eyes to the calendar on his desk.

"So it is. What time is the concert?" he asked.

"Eight-thirty." She managed a smile, trying hard to contain the excitement in her voice. "Shall I wait for you in my office?"

"No. Let's meet there."

She successfully hid her disappointment. It's been so long since she last saw him smile—in the real sense. He would do that sardonic lift of his lips, show his perfect dentures at times, but his smiles—could they be called that, would never reach his eyes.

She gracefully left his private office.

She knew right from the start that the woman he chose for his wife was no good for him.

She was much more beautiful, more capable, better suited than that slip of a girl could ever be. And Raye was right. His wife left him. Raye would never do that.

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When Raye learned from Amy, Darien's sister, and her best friend, that it had been an arranged marriage, her heart went out for Darien all the more

How could he have accepted it? she angrily wondered. She, however, found comfort in the realization that he didn't love his wife.

"I forgot to say that this is a charity concert," Raye said as they were ushered into the twenty-eighth row.

The hospital auditorium could hold a thousand people. It would not be packed. Amy was sure to be there. Most of the spectators were selected patients of that hospital.

"Classical music?" he simply asked.

Raye grimaced. "Er, modern. Um, some pop... ballads. Do you mind?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he withdrew a small box wrapped in red and gold.

He got me a gift!

At last, they seemed to be getting somewhere, Raye thought.

This was the first time that he gave her something that she could keep, well, she hoped so. Oh, he was not exactly unkind for a boss. Since she became his secretary, he always remembered her birthday, sometimes two days early, at one time, two weeks late. And he would give her something for her birthday, all right. But they had always been as if traditionally impersonal; trip tickets, bulks of gift certificates, chocolates, perfume—anything but something that could be really kept in a memory box.

"Thank you," she murmured, very pleased.

"Don't mention it."

The faint lights were made dimmer and the auditorium came to a hush. Girlish screams were heard from several rows on the front.