Chapter 42 Fractured Threads
Sable's POV
Jaxon's question caught me off guard. Why would Kier tell him about me. "Of course he does. My company’s pitching to market Ironclad. It’s not exactly a secret.”
He frowned. “He didn’t tell me." Jaxon’s brows lifted. “So, what—you two finally together now?”
“No,” I said quickly, too quickly. “This isn’t personal. It’s work. That’s all.”
He tilted his head, skepticism plain. “You really think you can separate the two? You and Kier?”
“I have to,” I said firmly.
Something unreadable flickered in his gaze. “You always had a spine made of steel.”
A bitter smile touched my lips. “You sound just like Dad when you say that.”
“Maybe that’s because I had to become him,” he said quietly. “Someone had to hold it all together.”
I looked away. “I didn’t mean for you to have to clean up after me.”
He chuckled without humor. “You never mean to, Sable. Chaos just follows you around like a shadow.”
I smiled faintly despite the sting. “Wouldn’t be me otherwise.”
He gave a small nod, eyes softening again. “No, it wouldn’t.”
We stood there, suspended in the moment—half a heartbeat away from saying everything that still needed saying and half too scared to start.
Finally, I found my voice. “Jaxon, I want to see you. Properly. Not like this. No business suits, no hallways.”
His expression warmed. “Dinner?”
“Dinner,” I confirmed, swallowing the lump in my throat.
He nodded once, and handed me his business card. “Text me the time. I’ll make it work."
For some strange reason, I hesitated. “Okay"
“Text me,” he said, shaking his head with a sad smile. “Don’t ghost me again, Sable.”
“I won’t.”
He reached out, fingers brushing a stray curl away from my face—gentle, almost reverent. “You look good. Strong.”
“Trying to be.”
“You always were.”
A silence settled between us again, one that wasn’t heavy this time—just filled with things that maybe didn’t need words.
From behind me, Jenna’s voice broke the quiet. “Sable! We’re heading out—are you coming?”
I turned toward her voice, blinking away the haze of emotion. “Yeah! Give me a sec.”
Jaxon’s lips curved faintly. “Still bossy, huh?”
“Something like that,” I said.
He stepped back, but his hand lingered on my arm for a heartbeat longer. “It’s good seeing you, Sabie.”
The nickname hit harder than expected. No one had called me that in years. “You too, Jax.”
I turned to go, my heels echoing against the marble, but something made me glance back. He was still standing there, hands in his pockets, watching me with that same mixture of pride and pain.
“See you soon,” I said.
“See you, little sister,” he replied, voice thick.
I smiled weakly and joined Jenna at the elevator.
Jenna pressed the button for the lobby, glancing sideways at me. “Everything okay?”
Her tone was gentle, but her eyes were sharp. She’d seen enough of me in boardrooms and coffee-fueled late nights to recognize when something cracked through the armor.
“Yeah,” I said automatically. Then, softer, “Just… familiar faces.”
“Old friend?”
“Something like that.”
She waited, clearly wanting to ask more, but the look on my face must’ve stopped her. The elevator hummed quietly as it descended, lights reflecting off the mirrored walls. I caught my own reflection—eyes too bright, mouth tight, like someone who’d just run through ghosts.
Jenna leaned against the wall. “You did good in there, by the way. Kier was brutal, but you held your ground.”
“Yeah, well,” I muttered, “I’ve been dealing with Alpha males my whole life.”
She laughed. “That explains a lot.”
When the doors opened to the ground floor, the scent of coffee and industrial polish filled the air. Employees buzzed through the lobby, sleek and efficient, like parts of a living machine.
We exited the building, city air wrapping around us—cool, metallic, alive.
“Drinks tonight?” Jenna asked, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “You look like you could use one.”
I forced a smile. “Rain check? I’ve got… stuff.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “That serious?”
“Yeah,” I said, and meant it.
She gave me a curious look but didn’t press. “Alright, lady. Just don’t disappear into a work coma again. We need you for Monday’s follow-up.”
“I’ll be there,” I promised.
As she walked toward the subway entrance, I lingered by the curb, letting the city noise drown out the chaos in my head.
Back in my apartment, the skyline glowed through the windows. I dropped my bag on the couch, kicked off my heels, and sank into the cushions.
For a while, I just sat there, listening to the hum of the city.
Then I pulled out my phone. My fingers hovered over the screen before I finally typed the number I remembered by heart, even after all these years.
To Jaxon: Dinner next Friday? 7:30? There's this little Italian place you'll love.
The reply came fast.
Jaxon: Will there be calzones.
I smiled. Sable: Yes, of course.
Jaxon: Wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s good to see you again … even if it’s temporary.
My heart twisted. I set the phone down, staring out the window at the city lights.
Temporary. The word echoed in my chest. That was all this was supposed to be. A project. A pitch. A coincidence.
But deep down, I knew better.
Because fate had a scent. And it was already finding me again.