First And Last

Chapter 18. Unraveled Threads

Azriel's Place :

The door to his penthouse clicked shut behind him, echoing through the silence of his home. Azriel exhaled deeply, his hand still gripping the polished brass handle. The day had been a disaster, a mess he had barely managed to contain. His jaw clenched as he recalled the moment Sara mentioned her name. It had been like a knife twisting in an old wound, one he had buried deep and far away from the prying eyes of his office. But there she was again, the past resurrected by a simple, naïve phone call.

He moved through the familiar surroundings, his sharp, designer suit feeling suddenly heavy on his shoulders. With a quick motion, he tossed his jacket over the back of a chair, loosening his tie as he made his way to the bar. The amber liquid of the whiskey swirled in his glass, but even the familiar burn of it sliding down his throat did little to ease the storm inside him.

Why did she have to bring it up? Why couldn't she just follow instructions, keep her head down, and do what was required of her? Sara had no idea of the landmine she'd stepped on, the memories she had dragged back to the surface with that single phone call. Memories of betrayal, of a trust so thoroughly shattered that even now, years later, the pieces cut him deep.

Azriel ran a hand through his dark hair, the usually smooth strands now a chaotic mess, much like his thoughts. He shouldn't have snapped at Sara like that-she was just doing her job. But it was more than that. It was the way she had looked at him afterward, hurt and confused, those wide eyes searching his for an explanation he couldn't give. It wasn't her fault, but he had to protect himself. He had learned that lesson the hard way.

He glanced at the clock-late, too late to call and apologize, and besides, what would he even say? His pride wrestled with his guilt, leaving him paralyzed in the middle of the room. He downed the rest of the whiskey, the burn of it fading into the numbness that was slowly taking over.

The truth was, Azriel wasn't angry at Sara. He was angry at himself, at his past, at the way it still controlled him despite all his attempts to bury it. His previous secretary had been more than just an employee; she had been someone he trusted implicitly, and that trust had been betrayed in the worst possible way. Sara's call had ripped open old wounds, reminding him that some scars never truly heal.

With a sigh, Azriel walked to the window, looking out over the city. The lights flickered in the distance, a reflection of his own turbulent emotions. He couldn't keep pushing people away, couldn't keep lashing out every time the past crept up on him. But tonight, as he stood alone in the silence of his penthouse, he had no answers, only the weight of his memories pressing down on him like a heavy blanket.

He knew he would have to face Sara in the morning, and he wasn't sure how he was going to do it. But that was tomorrow's problem. Tonight, he let the darkness take over, swallowing him whole as he sought the oblivion that sleep might bring.

Sara's Place :

Sara entered her house and as sheopened the door, she felt cold and unwelcoming as she walked in, her steps slow and heavy. She had been dreading this moment, the silence that would force her to replay the day's events in her mind. The moment Azriel's anger had flared, she had felt like she was standing in the middle of a storm, blindsided and unprepared. It wasn't just the anger-it was the way he looked at her, like she had crossed a line she didn't even know existed.

Soon Jess, came there and as soon as she saw her elder sister, she knew something was off. So, she tried to cheer her asking, "Sis, from where did you get this beautiful peony?" Seeing Jess, Sara's thoughts of the day vanished for a while. She shared the grandma's incident with her and wondered what fate actually has for her. Sara wanted some space, so she said to Jess, "I wanna rest for a while, so I'm gonna go to my room. Complete your assignments in the meantime."