Chapter 4: Alone in the Rain

The dinner stretched late into the night. Outside, drivers lined up, engines idling, headlights cutting through the drizzle. Guests left quickly, coats pulled tight against the damp air.

Mason Caldwell’s driver had a minor accident and arrived late, leaving Mason and me alone under the streetlight. The glow painted our faces, shadows long and uncertain.

Moments like these made my heart race—old hopes and dark thoughts swirling up, impossible to ignore. Mason seemed oblivious, standing quietly, softened by the alcohol and the late hour.

Finally, his driver pulled up. Mason turned to me, voice polite but distant. “Want to ride together?”

I shook my head, forcing a grateful smile, careful not to let my nerves show.

“Thanks, Mr. Caldwell, but my fiancé’s already on his way.” My voice wavered, the lie heavy on my tongue.

Mason didn’t press. He nodded, ducked into the car, and disappeared behind tinted glass.

Left alone, I let my mask slip. I kicked off my high heels, feeling the cool stone of the flowerbed beneath me. The damp grass pressed against my skin, grounding me in the moment.

For a while, I just sat there, lost and uncertain, the city stretching out in every direction. The streetlights glowed above, distant tires hissing on wet pavement, the smell of rain mingling with autumn leaves.

Soon, the sky opened—the first autumn rain, cold and relentless. I walked barefoot, the wet earth chilling my feet, the sound of raindrops drumming on the sidewalk.

The road I usually took was under construction, so my taxi had to circle back, headlights splashing over puddles. I waited, shivering, the night pressing in.

Mason Caldwell didn’t expect to see me again, standing there in the rain, shoes dangling from my hand. The sight caught him off guard—Secretary Reed, always composed, now wild and vulnerable.

At work, I was buttoned-up, all boundaries and professionalism. That’s why Mason valued me—because I kept my distance, never crossed the line.

As the car approached, Mason’s driver asked, “Want to stop for her?”

Mason’s gaze stayed steady. “No need.”

He didn’t like my supposed fiancé, but he couldn’t interfere. Feelings are private, and he’d learned not to push.

He watched me through the rain-streaked window, almost ready to say yes. But boundaries mattered. He leaned back, letting the city lights blur and the muffled music drown out my silhouette as the car rolled on.