Elena’s pov
The plane touched down in Singapore, and for the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe properly.
Distance didn’t fix anything, but at least it quieted the noise.
Well… almost because the man sitting beside me on this trip wasn’t the one I wanted to be here with.
The limo ride from the airport was silent, just the steady hum of the engine and the driver talking softly about landmarks we weren’t really listening to.
I kept my gaze out the window, watching the city blur past, glass towers rising into the sky, clean roads, everything polished and intentional.
Singapore was beautiful.
Too beautiful for the mess in my head.
I rubbed my temples.
My body felt heavy, the exhaustion of the flight and the sleepless night before catching up with me.
Damien kept to himself, offering me the window seat without a word, not trying to force conversation.
Somewhere between dozing off and dreaming, I felt a hand adjusting the blanket over me, tucking it around my shoulders gently.
I knew it was Damien, but I kept my eyes shut, pretending I didn’t notice.
When I woke up properly hours later, he was reading quietly, giving me space.
The whole flight felt like we were both careful, like any wrong move might set something off.
The car finally pulled up to Marina Bay Sands, and it was… stunning.
All sharp lines and luxury, the kind of place that screamed money without trying.
Damien got out first and grabbed both our bags before I could reach mine.
“Damien…” I started.
“It’s fine,” he said, not meeting my eyes.
Inside, the air was cool, perfumed lightly, with soft music playing somewhere in the background.
The receptionist looked up at us with a bright smile.
“Welcome ma’am,” she said.
“Checking in?”
”Yes, under Sterling,” I said.
She typed for a moment, then smiled.
“We have you booked in the Sterling Suite.”
”Separate rooms, right?” I asked immediately.
“Of course, ma’am. Two bedrooms with a shared living area.”
My stomach dropped, but I nodded like it didn’t matter.
Damien didn’t react at all, he just took the key card and headed for the elevators.
The ride up was quiet.
Too quiet.
Our reflections stared back at us in the mirrored walls.
Two people who used to know everything about each other, now standing like strangers forced into the same space.
The suite was beautiful.
Floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city, a sleek living area, minibar, dining table, and two bedroom doors across each other.
I didn’t wait.
“I’m taking this one,” I said, pointing to the room on the right.
“I’m going to rest. Long day tomorrow.”
Damien nodded.
“I’ll be in my room if you need anything…”
”I won’t.”
It came out sharper than I meant.
He didn’t flinch, or comment, he just turned and walked away.
I closed myself in my room and leaned against the door.
Four days, just four days.
I could handle that.
I unpacked, showered, slipped into something comfortable, and ordered room service.
For a while, I listened to him moving around outside, his door opening and shutting, the TV turning on for a minute, then going quiet again.
I checked my phone again.
Nothing from Caleb.
I switched it off and tried to sleep, but sleep didn’t want me.
At 2 AM I was still awake, jet-lagged, restless, and very thirsty.
I got up, cracked my room door open, and stepped out to get water.
The living area was dark now except for the glow of the city lights through the windows.
I walked to the minibar and opened it, the light almost too bright.
“Couldn’t sleep either?”
I jumped.
Damien stood in his doorway, shirtless, wearing only gray sleep pants hanging low on his hips.
I froze.
He looked… different.
More defined, leaner.
Sexier.
I dragged my eyes away from his torso.
“I just needed water.”
”There’s some in your room,” he said quietly.
“In the closet.”
”Oh.
I didn’t see it.”
The silence was heavy and awkward.
I gestured toward my room.
“I should…”
”Yeah.”
I stepped past him, our arms brushing.
A small, stupid shiver ran up my spine.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
“It’s fine.”
I reached my door, my hand on the handle, ready to escape.
“Elena?”
I froze, but didn’t turn.
“What?”
”The divorce papers.” His voice was low.
“I’ll sign them. Tomorrow, if that’s what you want.”
My chest tightened.
I turned to face him.
“You will?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, staring at me with those quiet, steady gray eyes.
“I should’ve done it a long time ago.”
My heart gave that traitorous flutter thingy, and that was exactly when I snapped out of it.
“Okay, Damien. Goodnight.”
I slipped into my room, locked the door, and pressed my back to it, heart racing.
This, this right here, was why I dreaded coming.
I didn’t trust myself around him.
Not yet anyway.
I heard him move, then heard the soft click of his door closing.
I climbed into bed, staring at the ceiling.
Sleep finally came around 4 AM, the last thing I remembered was thinking about the water I never got.
When I woke up three hours later, there was a note slipped under my door.
I picked it up, still half-asleep.
It was Damien’s handwriting.
“The merger meeting is at 10 AM. I ordered breakfast, it’s in the living area. Whenever you’re ready, we should probably go over the presentation one more time.”
I stared at it longer than I should have, fighting a smile.
This used to be his thing, notes instead of texts.
Little handwritten messages tucked into my purse, my laptop bag, our bathroom mirror.
“An extra effort for an extraordinary woman,” he used to say. This story is hosted at g.com.
I crumpled the paper, intending to throw it away, then paused… smoothed it out again, and tucked it quietly into my bag.
I didn’t know why I kept it.
I shook it off and focused on today.
The merger meeting was to be held downstairs in one of the hotel’s private dining rooms.
No time for emotions.
I showered quickly, then dressed in my red business suit, pulled my hair into a sleek low bun, and applied my red lipstick.
I looked sharp, powerful.
Exactly who I needed to be today.
When I stepped into the living area, Damien was already there fully dressed in his black suit, tie perfect, posture relaxed.
His eyes snapped to me instantly.
He looked me over once, slowly, then cleared his throat and looked away.
“Coffee?” he asked, lifting the pot.
Somehow, this was more awkward than seeing him shirtless at 2 AM.
“Yeah. Thanks,” I said, taking a seat.
He poured a cup and slid it toward me.
Black.
Exactly how I take it.
He remembered.
“Breakfast is there,” he added, nodding at the covered dishes on the table.
“You didn’t have to order for me.”
”I know.” He shrugged.
“Just figured you’d be hungry.”
I was, but I didn’t admit that.
I just uncovered the dishes and took fruit and toast.
We ate quietly, until he opened his laptop.
“Want to run through the presentation?” he asked.
“Sure.”
For the next hour, we worked on slides, notes, and small corrections.
He made good points, smart ones, and didn’t cross a single line.
It helped.
The professionalism.
By the time my alarm went off at 9:30, I actually felt ready.
“You should lead with the infrastructure section,” he said, packing up.
“You explain it better than I do.”
I nodded.
“Okay.”
”I’ll grab my stuff,” he said, heading to his room.
I checked the mirror by the door while I waited.
Stunning.
Put together.
No one would guess I barely slept last night.
Damien returned and we left together.
The diner was on one of the lower floors, quiet, sleek, private.
We arrived with fifteen minutes to spare.
“Ready?” he asked, holding the door open for me.
“As I’ll ever be.”