Dirty Little Secret (GxG)

SEASON 2, CHAPTER 24

Dria's POV

I sat in my new office at Alveo, surrounded by the gleaming results of the renovations. The soft morning light filtered through the tall windows, casting a gentle glow on the polished surfaces and creating a sense of calm. It was a stark contrast to the tangled mess of thoughts occupying my mind. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't shake last night's events from my memory—especially the way Sandra seemed to unravel in my presence.

She'd avoided me for the rest of the evening, and each time our paths crossed, it was as if she'd seen a ghost. Gone was the Sandra who exuded effortless confidence at every other event, including my mother's birthday. Instead, there was a strain in her movements, a hint of panic in her eyes, as though my very presence had stirred something uncomfortable within her. I'd known Sandra for too long to mistake it as mere discomfort; it was as though she was wrestling with something much deeper.

I leaned back in my chair, tapping my fingers against the sleek wood of my desk. The office felt almost too pristine, its clean lines and refined decor serving as a backdrop to my unresolved questions. Last night, watching Sandra avoid my gaze felt almost like watching her shed a piece of that armor she always wore. It made me wonder... Was there something she hadn't wanted me to see?

I hated that these thoughts lingered, occupying a part of me that I'd promised was done with her. It was almost ridiculous. Why should I care? I'd spent ten years building a life without Sandra, insulating myself from the pain she'd caused, ensuring I could be strong enough to withstand her presence should our paths ever cross. Yet here I was, haunted by memories I should have long since let go.

Ten years, I thought, letting the time sink in. I'd grown up, matured, and worked my way up in my field. I wasn't that young, naive woman anymore, the one who once believed that love could conquer everything. Yet, Sandra's mere presence seemed to draw me back, chipping away at that wall I'd built. I'd crafted myself into someone unbreakable, at least when it came to her. But last night's version of Sandra was... different. And no matter how much I wanted to dismiss it, I couldn't ignore the way she'd looked at me, as if she'd been just as thrown by our encounter.

But why? Hadn't she been the one to let go first? To move on? I'd thought that her life was perfect—a life complete with Mike and a family, built on a foundation she was willing to sacrifice me to create. That was the Sandra I remembered. Yet the Sandra I'd seen last night didn't fit that image. There was a vulnerability I'd never associated with her, a fracture in the polished persona she wore so effortlessly.

A sigh escaped me, and I ran a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the growing tangle of emotions. The Sandra I'd encountered in the restroom seemed so far removed from the woman who had so confidently denied me ten years ago, who'd stood on that stage and declared a future without me. The same woman who'd woven herself into the spotlight and become untouchable.

I should feel triumphant, I told myself. I should feel something other than this nagging sense of curiosity, this unwanted empathy. After all, Sandra was a ghost from my past, a remnant of another life, one I'd done everything to leave behind. And yet... I couldn't ignore how she seemed to fracture, just for a moment, when I'd confronted her in the restroom.

Could she have regrets? The thought took me by surprise, like a spark igniting a fire I hadn't realized was there. It was a dangerous thought, one that threatened to unravel everything I'd carefully rebuilt. But part of me couldn't help but wonder—had she seen something in me last night that reminded her of what we'd lost? Or was it just her own discomfort, perhaps a fear that I might say something, reveal something that would unsettle her carefully curated world?

I sat up straighter, casting a glance at the polished clock on the wall. It doesn't matter, I reminded myself firmly, grasping onto that truth. Sandra's life was her own, and I'd promised myself a future free of her shadow. I had my own life now, a life that wasn't shaped by her choices or her hesitation. I'd become strong, professional, and independent. The days of holding my breath for Sandra's next move were over.