Beverly's POV
Soft morning sun filtered through the curtains and drew me from a fitful sleep. I blinked, for one disorientated moment, before remembering where I was,in the guest bedroom of Davis's penthouse. I had stayed over after a late,night discussion about the company, but truthfully, I jumped at any excuse to be close to him.
I stretched and sat up, my eyes landing on the glittering diamond ring that adorned my left hand,the engagement ring Davis had given me what felt like a lifetime ago. It sparkled in the early morning light,a beautiful reminder of promises made and a future dreamed of. But now, as I stared at it, I felt a knot form in my stomach.
I loved Davis. Of that, I was certain. But the man I'd fallen in love with seemed to be a universe away from this one,broken, bitter, still fighting to reclaim his life. And as much as I hated admitting it, even to myself, a part of me did mourn the loss of the future I'd seen. It was as though the galas, the jet,setting life, the envy of all of our peers,only yesterday,had fallen through our fingers in the blink of an eye.
I released a sigh and rose, making my way toward the en,suite bathroom. Still back in his arms was where my thoughts always managed to sway while going through my morning routine. He was from another lifetime, it seemed.
*****
The café was thick with morning rush, full of fresh,coffee and warm,pastry scents. I was running late to get to my shift; my apron was tied hastily as I bounded behind the counter.
"Sorry, Mark," I mumbled, and my manager only rolled his eyes, pointing towards the building line of customers.
I took my place at the register, plastering on my best customer service smile. "Good morning! What can I get for you today?"
The next hour was one big blur of orders and fake cheer. Just as it was dying down, the little bell above the door chimed. I looked up,my greeting already prepared and dying on my lips,as my eyes met the most handsome man I had ever seen.
Tall, he was, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that screamed money. Still, it was not his looks or obvious wealth that caught my attention; it was how he carried himself,confident, powerful, like he owned the very air around him.
As he approached the counter, my heart quickened. "Good morning," I said, proud my voice didn't reflect the quake of my heart. "What can I get for you?"
His eyes,a striking, piercing blue,met mine. For a moment, I forgot to breathe. Then he smiled, and I felt my world shift on its axis.
"A large black coffee, please," he said, his tone low and smooth. "And." he paused, turning to the pastry case, "one of those blueberry muffins."
I nodded, fumbling a little as I rang up his order. Turning to make his coffee, I felt his eyes on me. It was a given that I would do just about everything with hyperawareness of every movement, every strand of hair that had escaped my messy ponytail.
"Here you go," I said, setting his order on the counter. "That'll be $7.50."
He handed me a crisp twenty,dollar bill, his fingers brushing mine for a moment. The contact sent a jolt through me. "Keep the change," he said with a wink.
I watched, hypnotized, as he made his way to a table by the window. I actually wasn't aware that I stared until Mark cleared his throat quite loudly.
My shift was a blur afterwards. I'd keep looking in his direction, and the man with the mystery seemed to be engulfed in something on his laptop. Near the end of my shift, I watched him rise to leave. By this time, my heart began to sink into the reality that I probably would never see him again.
But he lingered as he passed the counter. "Thanks for the great service," he said with that heart,stopping smile. Then, to my utter shock, he handed me a business card. "If you're ever looking for a change of career, give me a call."
I stared at the card in my hand long after he was gone. "Davis Anderson, CEO," it read, followed by a phone number. Little did I know then how that simple exchange would change the course of my life forever.
****
It was gone by the time I finished dressing. The scent of coffee drew me into the kitchen, and Alexis was already there, busy in the preparation of breakfast.
"Good morning, Ms. Stone," she said with a slight, polite smile. "Hope you slept well. May I offer coffee?"
I nodded, taking the steaming mug she proffered. I watched her as she moved with practiced ease around the kitchen. A twinge of. something,jealousy? resentment? ,pinged inside me. It was hard to place.
"Mr. Anderson is still sleeping," Alexis said as she set a plate of perfectly arranged fruit and toast before me. "He had a rather tiring day yesterday."
I muttered my thanks, unable to shake the feeling that I was somehow intruding. This woman, this stranger, seemed more at home in Davis's space than I did. She knew his routine, his preferences, in a way I never had.
"You've been a great help to Davis," I said, the words tasting bitter in my mouth, despite their truthfulness. "He seems to be making real progress with you."
Alexis smiled,warmly,but there was something in her eyes I couldn't quite read. "Mr. Anderson's doing all the heavy lifting. I'm just here for support."
Before I could say anything, we heard the sound of wheels on hardwood. Davis materialized in the doorway, his wheelchair steered with increased confidence.
"Good morning, ladies," he said, his voice still thick with sleep. His eyes finally rested on mine, and I could see the surprise in the flicker. "Beverly, I didn't know you'd slept over."
"It was late," I stammered, glad for an excuse. "I hope you don't mind."
Davis shook his head, a small smile nudging around the corners of his mouth. "Of course not. It's good to see you."
As Alexis helped Davis with his breakfast, I watched the interaction closely. There was an ease between them, a comfortable rhythm speaking of time spent together. I felt a pang in my chest, realizing how much I'd missed,how far I'd allowed myself to drift from Davis's daily life.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of polite conversation and stolen glances, as I found myself searching Davis's face for the man I'd fallen in love with. He was there, beneath the lines of pain and frustration, but changed. Tempered by suffering, perhaps, but also strengthened in ways I was only beginning to understand.
I had been gathering to leave when Davis caught my hand. "Beverly," he whispered. "Thank you for being here. I know it hasn't been easy."
I squeezed his hand, forcing a smile. "I love you, Davis. That hasn't changed."
But as I turned toward my car, a sense of irreversibility set in. All that I had envisioned for the future,the great parties, the luxury vacations, the envy of our peers,collapsed in the crash of Davis's mobility.
I drove home in a haze, my mind reeling in a storm of mixed feelings. I did love Davis, truly I did. But was love enough? Was I sure to be the supportive partner he needed, now, when part of me still clung to the life I had thought we'd have?
Coming from Davis' penthouse, my humble apartment was a bit of a shock to my system all over again: struggling to pay the rent, second,hand shop furniture, and dreams just out of reach.
I sank onto my worn sofa, my eyes finding their way to a framed photo on the coffee table. The one from our engagement Party,Davis and I beam to the camera, the promise of a bright future shining in our eyes. I remembered how it had felt that night: like Cinderella at the ball, finally stepping into the life I'd always dreamed of.
But now. now all was uncertain. Davis fought his way back, but to what? Was he ever to regain his former position, influence? And even if he did, could I stand by him through the long, hard road that lay ahead?
I spun the diamond engagement ring around my finger, watching it catch the light. It was beautiful, really pricey,a symbol of Davis's love and the life he'd given me. But it also felt like a burden, one of expectation and responsibility that I wasn't positive I was ready for.
With the sun starting to set, casting long shadows across my small living room, I found myself at a fork in the road. On one side lay Davis,the man that I loved, who was wounded but still fighting, with a future that could be uncertain yet deeply fulfilling. On the other lay the glittering world that I had always dreamed of: the luxury, the status, the freedom from financial worry.
I thought of Alexis, quiet and competent, the immediate bond between her and Davis. Part of me wondered if I was already being left behind, replaced by someone more capable of handling this new reality.
But then I remembered how Davis had looked at me that morning,the warmth in his eyes, the speaking of a love that, despite everything, had endured. Could I walk away from that? Could I live with myself if I did?
As night began to fall, I sat there still, the diamond sparkling on my finger. Love and ambition engaged in a tug,of,war, while comfort with the known and the allure of what might have been tagged along for the ride.
It was in the darkness of my apartment, far from the luxury of Davis' world; it was here that I faced the truth I had been trying to avoid for many months. The decision in front of me was never about Davis or the lifestyle I wanted. It was really about who I wanted to be and what kind of life I valued.
I looked into the ring, at that single, tiny circle of gold,a token of love and shattered dreams all at the same time. It was then that it dawned on me: the decision that I would make in this very present would delineate my future, the characteristic makeup of my person.
The ring shone in the gloom, fair and terrible as its purpose. And I was left sitting in the darkening hall, my mind torn in two, knowing that it would settle my life's course forever, whichever way the choice fell.