Chapter 5 - Rebuilding from the Ashes
Healing isn't a straight line. It’s a series of hills and valleys.
For the first six months, I threw myself into work. I used the money I saved from the divorce to open my own boutique security consulting firm, utilizing my military background and logistics training.
I hired Grant as my lead investigator.
We worked late nights. We drank stale coffee. We built a business from the ground up. Over time, the professional respect we shared began to shift into something else. Grant was nothing like Eric. He was quiet, observant, and fiercely loyal. He didn't need to be the center of attention. He just needed to get the job done.
One evening, a year after the anniversary party, we were going over case files in my office. The rain was drumming against the window panes.
"You've been quiet tonight," Grant noted, closing a file. He looked at me, his sharp eyes missing nothing.
"I was just thinking about a year ago," I admitted, leaning back in my chair. "It feels like a different lifetime. Like it happened to a different woman."
Grant stood up, walked around the desk, and sat on the edge of it. "That woman was a survivor," he said softly. "But the woman sitting in front of me now? She's a conqueror."
I looked up at him. For the first time in a very long time, I felt a genuine flutter in my chest. Not the anxiety of betrayal, but the warmth of possibility.
"Would it be highly unprofessional if I asked my lead investigator out for dinner?" I asked, a small smile playing on my lips.
May you like
Grant smiled back. It was a rare, beautiful thing. "I think the investigator has been waiting four hundred and twenty days for the boss to ask."
We went to dinner. It wasn't loud. It wasn't flashy. There were no microphones or three-tier cakes. It was just real. And for the first time in ten years, I felt completely, utterly safe.
