•<Find You>•

                           Like the wind that cries
                         I can feel you in the night
                                 A distant lullaby
                     Underneath the shattered sky
                       Just hold on. It won't be long
                                          •
                                          Ruelle
•<>•

I lean back in my seat, idly twirling my pen as I listen to Catherine walk James and me through the proposal from our new client, making sure to cover every detail to avoid any misunderstandings.

This discussion in my office has been dragging on, and if I'm completely honest, I'm feeling quite bored. I keep getting distracted, thinking about what painting to work on next.

Managing the role of vice president at my father's company while pursuing my passion for art has proven to be more demanding than I had expected.

My dad didn't seem to care about my feelings regarding the position he gave me. In his opinion, he was doing me a favour by allowing me to work for him, especially after what happened to Eric.

Dad had been preparing Eric to assume this position since he was older, more capable, and seemed to possess more knowledge about the work than I did. Sadly, Dad's hopes of Eric taking the reins of his company one day were shattered when he found out about his passing.

It was another tragic event for our family, as we grieved the loss of Eric. Dad, in particular, struggled to come to terms with the loss of his favourite child. His grief caused him to lose his usual drive and passion, leaving us feeling like we had lost him as well.

However, after months of grieving, he got back on his feet and somehow was out to get me. He started accusing me of Eric's passing which in all honesty, he was right. It was my fault that Eric died. It was all my fault.

It wasn't long after Erin joined him in accusing me of all the misfortunes that had happened in our family. Being in my late teens, I felt so alone and miserable with no shoulder to lean on.

Even though James was a constant presence in my life, the harsh words and treatment that had been thrown at me by my father and my sister overpowered the kindness and affection that James wrapped me up in. His kindness was in no way comparable to the darkness that was surrounding me, tormenting me and degrading me every second of the day.

After enduring relentless accusations and guilt-tripping, I finally relented and agreed to take over Eric's position for my father. It seemed like I had no other choice. According to Dad, it was my responsibility, my consequence for Eric's death. He claimed that if Eric were alive, he wouldn't have been so hard on me about work, and perhaps I could have pursued my love for art, although I highly doubt that considering his aversion to it.

As the clock ticks away, so does my impatience that's growing stronger with every second that goes by.

How much longer till this meeting is over?

"So what are your thoughts about this, sir?" Catherine's voice snaps me out of my thoughts, prompting me to dart my eyes to her and then James.

"The proposal is somewhat average, not particularly impressive. James and I need to have a conversation about it, and once we reach a decision, we will inform you and the rest of the team." I speak and she nods with a gentle smile, then excuses herself, the tap of her heels on the marble floor grows distant as she finally leaves my office.

James breaks the silence by adjusting himself in his chair and casually asking, "Is everything alright?" His gaze remains fixed on me.

"I'm just tired and bored," I say, expelling a sharp breath from my lips, "And mad at you."

Puzzled, he points his index finger to his chest, "Mad at me? What did I do?"

"You know exactly what you did, leaving me when I needed you the most, and now, after months of silence, this is the response I receive? You didn't even bother to inform me of your return; I had to hear it from my father."

His hand briefly reaches up to scratch his head, he appears to be gathering his thoughts before speaking, "I'm sorry for the sudden return. I wasn't ready for it and everything happened so fast. I didn't even have a chance to gather my thoughts."

"It's okay," I reply, "What happened anyway? You left so abruptly without a word."

"Something urgent came up in Seattle, and your father needed me to be there immediately. You know how he is when it comes to work matters, I just can't disagree with him."

"You couldn't even call?"

"Your father specifically asked me not to bother you while you were in the process of healing, especially with the extensive media coverage surrounding your accident. He believed it was important for you to have a peaceful environment to heal without any disturbances. He was concerned that our conversations might attract unwanted attention from the reporters who were persistently hounding me for updates on your condition." The sadness and regret in his eyes is evident as he talks.

Thinking back to how Dad was so protective of me from the reporters, I understand where James is coming from. Nevertheless, I can't help but feel upset that he left without contacting me. He changed his number, and despite my attempts to reach out, I couldn't because I didn't have his contact information. I wasn't even allowed to travel.

I choose to overlook his actions towards me. The past is behind us, and I am just grateful for his presence.

After our brief catching up, a thought pops into my head. It's been lingering in my head for quite some time and now that our conversation is somewhat related to that thought, maybe now would be the right time to bring it up.

"Hey uhh, I've been thinking," I say.

"About what?" With a hint of curiosity in his voice, he responds, furrowing his eyebrows inquisitively.

"I've been thinking about leaving this place." My mind begins to wander once more as I speak. "I can't keep doing this, working for my father. This place, this type of work isn't for me."

"It's unlikely that your father would be pleased with your decision to quit your job. Where are you planning to go anyway?"

"That's the thing," I point out, "Since my return from Cancun he's been different, d'you know what I mean? He's been treating me like a precious jewel, my sister too, and as thankful as I am and grateful for their kindness, I can't keep living like this. My passion is art and not this. I want to share my passion for art with others, I want to show Mum's artworks to the world, but clearly, he won't let me. Not when he detests it."

"Just to confirm, you're thinking about stepping away from your father's business to pursue what you're truly passionate about, correct?" He asks as he leans in closer to my office table, his curious eyes never breaking contact with me. "Where are you thinking of doing that? Your father has a vast network of associates throughout Europe, and they would not hesitate to inform him if they caught wind of your actions."

"I know I can't do it here, so I was thinking of coming with you to Seattle." Upon hearing that, he nearly coughs up his tea.

"You want to come with me? Yeah, I don't see that happening. Your father wouldn't let that happen." He shakes his head as he puts his mug down and takes a serviette to wipe his mouth.

"He will, once I convince him to transfer me to another branch."

"But what difference would that make, you'd still be working for him."

"Yes, I know that, but I'd still be able to do what I love. I can see that look in your eyes," I note, catching the judgmental expression he's giving me, clearly thinking my idea is crazy. "I don't need to be at the office every day."

"And you think he wouldn't notice?" he asks, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

"That's where you come in. You'd help me with part of it. Of course, I'll continue my duties as the vice president. I'll handle some of the work remotely, and you'll assist with the rest while I'm not at the office." Seeing his skeptical expression, I press on, "I promise I won't get you in trouble. Besides, I'll share my earnings with you once I'm all settled."

"It's not about the money, Ethan. You know I'd do anything to help you," he says, exhaling sharply, sounding defeated. "I know how much art means to you and how much it meant to your mother. If taking this risk is worth it, then count me in. I just want you to be happy with what you're doing."

James' words elicit a smile from me. Knowing that he still has my back brings joy to my heart, I can't explain it.

"And what about Rosie?" he hesitates. Furrowing his brows at me, he continues, "Is she coming with you?"

"Rosie and I are no longer together," I reply, then proceed to explain what happened after my return to London from Cancun. "A day after you left, Rosie and her family visited us. It turned out that her parents and my father knew about our secret divorce, and they weren't happy about it, especially her father. With all the attention my accident was getting from reporters, and after uncovering the truth about what Rosie and I did, he didn't want their family name associated with us anymore. From our conversation, it seemed he understood Rosie's desire to be free from me and my family."

After revealing all that transpired between Rosie and me during and after our marriage, it was crystal clear that neither of us was happy with the marriage that was imposed on us. We discussed in depth how unhappy we both were. Surprisingly, both my father and hers were understanding, a reaction I doubt my father would have had if not for the accident I was still recovering from.

Was his decision on the matter influenced by my accident?

Despite everything, we ended the conversation on a positive note and went our separate ways. I've only had a couple of conversations with Rosie since then, but I was relieved to hear that she was doing well and that her father was supportive of her relationship with her longtime secret boyfriend, Liam.

James, who has been paying close attention, nods in understanding after I reveal all the information. Shortly thereafter, he agrees to help me with the plan and promises to cover for me at work if it goes well. With that, I express my gratitude before pouring tea into my mug.

"Hey, before I forget, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," I say, catching his attention as his eyes quickly shift back to me.

"What is it?"

"There's a girl who keeps appearing in my thoughts and dreams. She spoke to me only once, when I was distressed, and her words were meant to reassure me that I'd be okay. Most of the time, she remains silent, just smiling at me from a distance."

"That's odd. What does she look like?" he asks, placing his chin between his index finger and thumb.

"Her hair looked ginger, I think, and her eyes seemed a bit green," I reply, shifting my gaze to the table as I try to recall her features. "She visited me at the hospital in Cancun. Do you remember? She was the reporter my father had that altercation with."

"Ethan, your father had run-ins with many reporters. You need to be more specific," he replies.

"She was the first reporter to visit me, I think. She was friendly but also seemed a bit odd because she was overfamiliar with me as if she knew me personally."

As if recalling her, he nods slightly. "Okay? What about her?"

"She's been showing up in my thoughts and dreams for a while now, and I can't figure out why. I need answers, but no one I've asked has been able to help. Maybe you know something the others don't."

"Why-why would I?" he stutters.

"You know me better than anyone else, and you have a knack for uncovering things like a private detective. Maybe you can find some information about her that links her to me. I have this strange feeling that I know her from somewhere. Can you please help me?"

"Ethan, I'm sorry, but I can't. I already told you everything I knew about her when we were in Cancun. She's simply a reporter who, like many others, was working hard to get information out of you, even if it meant trying to seduce you based on the way she acted around you," he says, his voice diminishing with every word he lets out.

With that said, the hope of finding answers to the questions I've had for some time now starts to fade. The hope of knowing who she is, of knowing where she is, and why she keeps appearing in my dreams starts to fade. Of all the people in my life, I was counting on James to help me solve this mystery. I was hoping that he'd have answers or help me look for her, but after conversing with him, I don't think I'll get my answers even if I try to do it by myself.

Or will I?

Lyrics

I will find you here inside the dark
I will break through
No matter where you are
I will find you. I will find you

                                        AN
This chapter kind of explains how Ethan ended up working in Seattle, before everything that had already happened. Part of his memory hasn't yet been recovered, so it's kind of like he's gone back in time, like way before he moved to Seattle and met Mallory. Hence the conversation.
                                        ***
Thank you so much for getting this far, much appreciated. Don't forget to vote, comment and share. It'd be nice to hear from you and your honest opinions/thoughts about the story.
                                     🧡🤎