Chapter 5 The space between us.

Amelia's POV

The sterile smell of Presbyterian Hospital greeted me the second I stepped through the doors. No matter how many times I come here, it always felt the same: cold, and sterile, as though time stood still inside these walls. My footsteps echoed down the hall, each one a reminder of the visits I'd made for the past seven years.

When I finally reached my mother's room, I paused for a second, taking a deep breath. This was always the hardest part.

I opened the door and stepped inside, the familiar sight of her small, fragile body lying on the bed hitting me like it always did. Machines beeped softly in the background, a constant reminder of the life that still clung to her, barely.

"Hi, Mom," I whispered, forcing a smile even though I knew she couldn't see it. It was a habit now. Routine.

I sat down in the chair beside her bed, like I always did, my eyes scanning her face for any sign of movement. There never was.

"I'm back again," I said softly, my voice filling the quiet room. "I've got some good news this time... the bills are finally getting paid." My voice cracked a little at the end, and I cleared my throat, pushing the emotion down.

I'd been coming here for so long, talking to her as if she could hear me. Some days I convinced myself she could, that there was still some part of her in there. On other days, it was harder to keep the hope alive.

"I'm doing okay, you know," I continued, swallowing the knot in my throat. "I've started my new job. It's... intense. My boss is..."

I trailed off, not sure how to describe Christopher. I wasn't even sure how to explain him to myself.

"I don't know what I'm doing, Mom," I whispered, leaning forward and resting my forehead against the bed. "I wish you were here to tell me what to do."

The sound of the machines filled the silence between us, and I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. This was my life now, talking to a woman who couldn't respond, hoping for a miracle that never came.

****

Christopher's POV

The sound of children laughing filled the air, blending with the light clinking of glasses and the hum of conversation. Family gatherings had always been a staple in the Russell household, and today was no different.

I watched as Lawrence and Danielle ran around the garden, their laughter infectious, their energy endearing. I felt a tug on my shirt and looked down to see Danielle grinning up at me.

"Uncle Christopher, come play!" she demanded, her hands already tugging me toward the grass.

I chuckled, setting my glass down and letting her drag me into the game. For a moment, I let myself get lost in the simplicity of it. Family. Laughter. It was a welcome distraction from the constant routine of tension that lived inside me, a tension that always seemed to lead back to Amelia these days.

I chased after the girls, their giggles ringing out as they darted around the yard. Alfonso sat nearby, his eyes following me with quiet amusement. He was a man of few words, but his presence was always felt. The weight of his authority hung in the air, even during moments like this.

But even as I played along, my thoughts drifted to her.

Amelia. My new obsession.

It had been a week since that night in the office, and I knew she was trying to avoid me. She hadn't said it outright, but I saw it in the way she moved around the office, the way she kept her head down, burying herself in work. She was probably trying to convince herself that she had misheard me and playing dumb as if nothing happened between us, that she had misunderstood the desire in my voice.

But I knew better and I know, she knows too.

I always knew.

Amelia could run, she could hide behind the paperwork and the polite facade, but eventually, she'd have to face me. Face the desire. The tension between us was a spark, and it was only a matter of time before it ignited.

As Danielle tugged at my arm again, demanding I chase her, I smirked, playing along. But in the back of my mind, the only chase I was interested in was Amelia.

****

Amelia's POV

Later that evening, I sat across from Jennifer at a small café in the East Village, the smell of coffee and pastries filling the air around us. Seeing her again after so long felt like stepping back into a different life, one where things were simpler. Easier.

Jennifer had always been the kind of friend who made you feel at home, with her soft smile and warm, comforting presence. She hadn't changed a bit, still, the same sweet, chubby girl who made everyone around her feel at ease.

"I can't believe it's been this long since we last hung out," Jennifer said, shaking her head. "You've been so busy!"

"Yeah, work's been... a lot," I said, trying to keep my tone light.

Jennifer raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing more beneath the surface. "What's going on? You don't sound too happy about it."

I hesitated, sipping my coffee to buy some time. How could I describe Christopher without telling her too much? How could I explain the way he made me feel like I was on the edge of something dangerous?

"It's just... my boss," I said, finally. "He's... intense."

Jennifer smirked, leaning forward. "Intense how?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "You don't want to know."

But even as I tried to brush it off, the truth gnawed at the back of my mind. Christopher wasn't just intense, he was consuming. His presence lingered around me, even when I wasn't at the office. I could feel him watching me, waiting.

I wanted to believe that I had misheard him, that I had misunderstood the intent behind his words, but deep down, I knew the truth.

There was no misunderstanding. He had been watching me.

****

Christopher's POV

Back at the office, I could see her trying to avoid me. She moved through the day like a ghost, her eyes downcast, her body stiff with tension. She thought she could outrun what had happened, thought she could convince herself that I was just her boss and nothing more.

Cute.

I watched her through the glass walls of my office, her movements sharp and deliberate. She was throwing herself into work, trying to bury the truth under piles of paperwork. But she wasn't fooling me.

I picked up the phone, dialling her extension, my eyes never leaving her.

She answered on the second ring, her voice soft but guarded. "Yes, Mr. Russell?"

"Come to my office," I said, my voice smooth but commanding.

There was a pause, and I could almost hear her heartbeat through the phone. She was hesitating, but we both knew she didn't have a choice.

"Yes, sir," she finally replied.

I smiled, leaning back in my chair. She was trying to resist, but it was only a matter of time before she gave in completely.