Dirty Little Secret (GxG)

SEASON 2, CHAPTER 30

The lobby was quiet now. Too quiet. Dria's words echoed in my mind, filling up every last space, clinging to me like a second skin that I couldn't tear off. "Let me go, Sandra." It was as if every syllable had drilled itself into my brain, setting up camp and refusing to leave. This was... new. Dria had always been a fortress, yes, but there were usually a few windows, maybe a hidden door or two that I could find if I tried hard enough. But now it was all locked down, no entry, no exits, no Dria.

I forced myself to stand there, head held high, as if the sting of rejection didn't feel like it was eating me alive. People were watching, of course. My employees, security guards, maybe even a stray courier taking in the sight of Sandra Domingo, the cold and ruthless CEO of D Empire, standing broken-hearted in the middle of the lobby. My finest hour. And all because of one person.

But she's not just anyone, is she?

I tried to breathe, to shake off the heaviness clinging to me. If anyone had asked me if I'd stop loving Dria after ten years, I would have laughed. Because I waited. I've been waiting. Every time I faced a setback, every time I went through hell, the thought of Dria was there, like some invisible hand pulling me through the mess. So, what was I supposed to do now? Just... stop? Fat chance, Dria.

Even as the thought hardened into resolve, my vision started blurring, and I blinked rapidly, refusing to cry in the middle of the lobby. And then my phone buzzed in my hand. Rachel. Standing a few meters away from me.

"Are you okay?" Rachel's voice was hushed, like she was afraid she might accidentally shatter me with the wrong tone. I almost wanted to laugh. If only she knew I was already shattered.

She wants me to let her go. The words churned inside me, tearing up every piece of confidence I'd ever had, replacing it with some hideous, hollow thing that I didn't recognize. I couldn't bring myself to answer. How could I? There's no guidebook on how to answer that kind of question when the love of your life has just told you they don't want to see you ever again.

Instead, I just swayed my head, barely a motion, and Rachel, perceptive Rachel, caught on immediately. She walked over, quiet but sure, and for the first time, I felt what I guessed was... comfort? Which, if you're Sandra Domingo, doesn't come naturally. But right now, comfort was exactly what I needed, so I let her approach.

"Sandra, do you... need anything?" she asked, her voice gentle in a way I hadn't heard before. Maybe I really looked as pitiful as I felt.

My throat tightened, but I managed to shake my head. No, Rachel, I don't need anything. Just the one thing I can't have. But all I said was, "Thanks, Rachel."

She nodded and, bless her, didn't press for details. Instead, she just stood there, a quiet presence, one that didn't demand anything from me but didn't leave me stranded in the middle of my emotional wasteland either. And for once, I was grateful for the silence.

I kept my head down, letting the wave of emptiness wash over me, swallowing me up in a way I wasn't sure I could claw myself out of this time.

****

The elevator doors slid shut, and as soon as they did, the weight of it all seemed to settle on my shoulders in full. Rachel stood beside me, just far enough to give me some space, but I could sense her watching me from the corner of her eye. The silence felt thick and pressing. She probably wasn't used to seeing me this way—no one was. Sandra Domingo, reduced to a puddle in the middle of the lobby for all to see. If I had any pride left, it was somewhere on the ground floor with the rest of my dignity.

The floors ticked by slowly, each ding of the elevator only intensifying the ache inside me. But then, as the floors slowed, a thought hit me, and before I could stop myself, I turned to Rachel.