ROMANCE OF YESTERDAY

Emily Carter stepped out of the taxi, her heart hammering against her chest. She smoothed her palms down the front of her navy blazer and drew a shaky breath, staring up at the gleaming glass building that reached arrogantly into the clouds. Saintwood Enterprises. She'd read the name a dozen times in the emails, but standing here, at the foot of the skyscraper, it felt more real - and more intimidating - than she had imagined.

Emily's POV

This is it, Emily, she told herself firmly. You've handled tougher projects than this. You're not that scared little girl from Maplewood anymore.

Still, her fingers trembled as she gripped her briefcase. Coming to the big city had always been part of her plan. Getting assigned a high-stakes redevelopment project for Saintwood Enterprises was the break she'd worked so hard for. But underneath her determination lurked an unease she couldn't quite shake. Why did the company name feel oddly familiar?

She shook her head. It didn't matter. This was her chance to prove herself, to climb higher in the industry, maybe even secure a permanent contract. She squared her shoulders, forced a smile, and walked through the massive glass doors.

The lobby was a world away from the small-town offices she was used to: sleek marble floors, towering sculptures, an enormous chandelier dripping crystals. A woman at the reception desk greeted her politely and directed her to the top floor. Emily's pulse jumped as she stepped into the private elevator.

Ethan's POV

From his corner office, Ethan Saintwood stared out over the city skyline. His jaw tightened as his assistant read out the day's schedule.

"Your 10 a.m. meeting is with the new project consultant for the east-side development, sir. Emily Carter."

Something in the name made Ethan freeze. Emily Carter. He closed his eyes briefly, and the name echoed in his mind, stirring memories he had long buried: a soft laugh, a summer breeze, a girl with sunlit hair and trusting eyes.

He turned sharply. "Did you say Emily Carter?"

His assistant blinked, startled. "Yes, sir. From Hargrove Projects."

Ethan waved her off, sinking into his chair. It can't be her. It's just a coincidence. Still, his fingers curled into fists on the armrest. Ten years. He hadn't heard her name in ten long years.

Back to Emily

The elevator opened with a soft chime, and Emily stepped into the executive floor. She followed the assistant down a long corridor lined with abstract paintings until they stopped in front of a heavy oak door.

"Mr. Saintwood will see you now," the assistant said with a polite smile.

Emily drew in a steadying breath, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

The man who rose from behind the massive desk stole the air from her lungs.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Raven-dark hair. His eyes, a piercing stormy gray, locked onto hers with a flicker of recognition that made her knees weaken. For one dizzying moment, the years fell away, and she saw the boy she'd once loved standing before her.

No. It can't be.

"Emily," Ethan said softly, his voice a low rasp that twisted her heart.

Her breath caught. Her carefully built walls cracked just a little as she whispered, "Ethan?"

Emily's POV

Shock rippled through her. Of all the companies, all the contracts, why this one? She'd spent years convincing herself she'd moved on, that Ethan Saintwood was just a chapter in her past. Now here he was, standing a few feet away, no longer the teenage boy she remembered but a man shaped by years she hadn't shared.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay professional. "Mr. Saintwood, I'm here to present the redevelopment proposal."

His lips curved in a faint, almost sad smile. "It's good to see you again, Emily."

Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

Ethan's POV

He watched her struggle to compose herself, the same determined spark in her eyes that he remembered. God, he hadn't expected this. He'd thought she was gone forever, a bittersweet memory locked in the past. Now here she was, in his office, in his world, looking even more beautiful than he remembered.

But he couldn't let himself go there. Not now. Not when his life was so carefully balanced on the edge of duty and expectation.

He cleared his throat, slipping back into the cool, measured voice he'd perfected over the years. "Please, have a seat, Miss Carter."

Emily sank into the chair, clutching her notes like a lifeline. She could do this. She had to do this.

But deep down, she knew: this project was going to test more than just her professional skills. It was going to test her heart.

Emily sat cross-legged on the hotel bed, staring blankly at the open folder in front of her. The redevelopment plans, the notes, the timeline - they all blurred together, their sharp edges dulled by the storm swirling in her mind.

Why did it have to be him? she thought, squeezing her eyes shut. She had worked so hard to rise in her career, to distance herself from the girl she had been. But seeing Ethan again... it had been like walking back in time.

Flashback - Maplewood, 10 years ago

Emily was seventeen, barefoot on the old dock by Maplewood Lake, the summer sun kissing her skin as she laughed and tugged at Ethan's hand.

"Come on, city boy," she teased, eyes sparkling. "Don't tell me you're scared of a little water."

Ethan grinned, pulling off his shirt and tossing it aside. His dark hair was ruffled, his lean frame tanned from sneaking out to see her every weekend.

"I'm not scared," he murmured, stepping closer. "But if I go in, you're coming with me."

Emily squealed as he scooped her into his arms and leapt into the lake, both of them plunging into the cool, clear water. She surfaced, laughing and gasping, her arms flung around his neck.

"Promise me something," Ethan whispered, his forehead resting against hers. "Promise me we'll leave this town together one day. Go somewhere they can't touch us."

Emily's smile faltered. She knew who "they" meant - the Saintwood family, with their sharp suits, sharp words, and sharper expectations. They'd made it clear from the start that Ethan's relationship with a small-town girl like her was unacceptable.

"I promise," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "We'll find a way, Ethan. We always do."

Back to present

Emily exhaled shakily, pressing her hands to her face. We didn't find a way, she thought bitterly. That summer had been the last time she'd felt truly happy.

Flashback - The night everything fell apart

Emily remembered the cold knock at their door. Her father opening it, his face paling as Mr. Saintwood himself stepped inside, flanked by men in tailored suits.

"We're here for a word, Mr. Carter," the older man had said smoothly. "About your daughter."

Emily, hidden in the hallway, had watched her father's fists clench. Watched her mother's anxious glance. Listened as the Saintwoods explained, calmly, that the relationship was over. That if Emily didn't leave town, her family would lose everything - their home, their jobs, their reputation.

She had never seen her father cry before that night.

The next morning, they packed their bags. She left without saying goodbye.

Back to present

Emily's throat tightened. She'd told herself she'd moved on. That she didn't care anymore. But seeing Ethan today, looking into those gray eyes that had once gazed at her like she was his entire world, had ripped open every old wound.

She wiped at her eyes angrily. Focus, Emily. You are here for the project, not for the past.

But deep down, she knew it wouldn't be that simple.

Ethan's POV

Across the city, Ethan stood by his penthouse window, staring out into the night.

He could still hear her laugh, the way she had teased him on that dock, the warmth of her arms around his neck. God, he had been so sure they could beat the odds. But his family had been relentless, and in the end, he had caved. He had let them send her away.

His hand clenched at his side.

Seeing Emily walk into his office today had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. She looked different, older, sharper - but her eyes were the same. And they still had the power to undo him.

"Lexi," he murmured, glancing at the photo on the shelf. His wife. His duty.

And now Emily was back, not just in his life, but inside his walls, working on his project.

How am I supposed to handle this? Ethan thought, closing his eyes as the past crashed down around him.

He wasn't sure he had an ans

Emily's heels echoed sharply against the marble floor as she stormed down the corridor toward the executive wing. She clutched the file folder tightly to her chest, heart hammering, fury bubbling in her veins.

Why him? Why didn't he tell me? she fumed.

She reached the polished wooden door, raised her hand, and knocked before she could second-guess herself.

"Come in," came the deep, controlled voice she remembered too well.

Emily shoved the door open and stepped inside. Ethan sat behind the massive oak desk, dark hair perfectly styled, pen poised in his hand. His eyes flicked up to her, cool and unreadable, but for a split second, she saw the flicker - the tiny crack in his mask.

"Emily," he said smoothly. "Is something wrong with the project brief?"

She closed the door behind her, refusing to sit, standing stiffly like a soldier bracing for battle.

"Why are you the client?" she demanded, voice tight. "Why didn't you tell me from the start? You let me walk into that meeting blind."

Ethan set his pen down slowly, folding his hands in front of him. "It wasn't necessary for you to know."

Emily stared at him, disbelief and hurt warring on her face. "Not necessary? Ethan, this is my career. My life. You knew this would throw everything off balance. You knew how much history we have."

His eyes hardened slightly. "I suggest you focus on the work, Emily. Our past doesn't change the scope of this project."

Her chest clenched. There it is, she thought bitterly. The cold, polished Ethan Saintwood. She had hoped for even a hint of the boy she'd loved, but he was long gone.

"You think you can just sweep everything under the rug, don't you?" she whispered, voice trembling. "Pretend we were nothing?"

Ethan's POV

Ethan rose slowly, walking around the desk. Inside, his heart was a storm, pounding so hard it was a wonder she couldn't hear it. But his face remained a mask, his voice smooth as glass.

"I'm not pretending anything," he said quietly. "I'm doing what I have to do. For the company. For my family."

Emily's eyes shimmered, and something twisted deep in his chest. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to pull her into his arms and apologize for everything - but he couldn't. He had built walls over the years, stone by stone, and he didn't know how to tear them down anymore.

"You let them win," Emily whispered. "You let them destroy us."

Ethan's jaw tightened. "I don't owe you an explanation, Emily. Not anymore."

The words landed like a slap, and for a moment, the room fell into a brittle silence.

Emily's POV

Emily clenched her fists at her sides. Stay strong, she told herself. Don't let him see you break.

"Fine," she said sharply. "You don't owe me anything. But remember this, Ethan: I'm not the girl you left behind. I'm here to do a job, and I will do it well. Just stay out of my way."

She turned on her heel, head held high, and walked to the door. But just before she left, she heard his voice, softer, almost a whisper.

"I never wanted to hurt you."

Her breath caught, but she didn't turn back. She walked away, heart pounding, forcing herself not to cry.

Ethan's POV

Ethan stood alone in the office, staring at the closed door.

What the hell are you doing, Ethan? he thought, running a hand through his hair.

He had spent years convincing himself that Emily was better off without him. That she'd moved on. But seeing her now, strong and fierce, made something stir in him he had long tried to bury.

He took a shaky breath, steeling himself. This was business. Nothing more.

Then why, he wondered darkly, does it feel like the ground is crumbling beneath my feet?