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The Sprawling 25

    25 A Fever, A Favor, A Final Day


    25 A Fever, A Favor, A Final Day


    Damien’s phone buzzed on the breakfast table. ra’s eyes flickered to the screen, catching the caller ID: “Babe.” A familiar pang shot through her chest, but she kept her expression nk. O


    “Hi there. Damien’s voice was soft, gentle-a tone ra barely recognized.


    He stood, moving away from the table. Cora looked up from her cereal, her small face brightening with interest.


    “Is that Vivi?” she asked loudly.


    Damien nodded, his brow furrowed with concern. “You have a fever? Since when?”


    ra busied herself with her coffee, focusing on the bitter taste rather than the sharp twist in her gut. Seven years of marriage and he’d never once used that voice with her. “I’ll be there soon,” Damien said, ending the call. He turned to Cora. “Vivienne isn’t feeling well. I need to check on her.”


    “Is she okay?” Cora’s voice was thick with worry.


    “Just a fever,” Damien replied, already grabbing his jacket. “She’ll be fine.”


    He paused briefly by the door. “ra, can you handle preparations for the Henderson meeting this afternoon?”


    “Of course.” Her voice was steady, professional.


    Without another word, Damien was gone.


    ra sat still, listening to the front door close, the car engine start. Cora’s spoon clinked against her bowl in the silence.


    “I hope Vivi feels better,” Cora mumbled.


    “I’m sure she will,” ra replied, gathering her own things. “Your father will take good care of her.”


    Later, in the car on the way to school, ra noticed Cora typing on her phone, her


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    25 A Fever, A Favor, A Final Day


    small fingers moving quickly.


    “Who are you messaging?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the road.


    “Vivi,” Cora answered simply. “Telling her to get better. And that I love her.”


    ra’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “That’s… kind of you.”


    After dropping Cora off, ra drove to Thorne Industries with mechanical precision. The sky was overcast, threatening rain-fitting for her mood.


    In the office, Marcus Cole intercepted her before she reached her desk.


    “Mr. Thorne won’t be in for the morning meetings,” he informed her. “Everything’s been pushed to this afternoon.”


    “I’m aware,” ra replied.


    Marcus hesitated. “Also, we’ve nearlypleted the handover of your duties. Your sessor has been briefed on most processes.”


    “That was quick.” ra kept her voice neutral despite the heaviness settling in her chest.


    “Mr. Thorne requested the transition be expedited.”


    Of course he did. ra nodded and continued to her desk, opening herptop with practiced efficiency. She had work to do, regardless of where Damien was or who he wasforting.


    Still, her mind betrayed her. Was he holding Vivienne now? cing a cool cloth on her forehead? Murmuring soft words offort? The images tormented her, each one a papercut against her heart.


    By lunchtime, the office was buzzing with whispered conversations. ra caught fragments-“CEO’s with his girlfriend”…”heard she’s really sick”…”cancelled his entire morning.”


    ra ate her lunch alone in the break room, scrolling through emails that blurred before her eyes.


    At precisely 2:30 PM, Damien strode into the conference room for the Henderson


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    25 A Fever, A Favor, A Final Day


    *51


    meeting. ra noticed immediately that he’d changed his clothes since morning. Fresh shirt, different tie. Her imagination filled in the nks-his previous outfit likely rumpled from lying beside Vivienne, perhaps stained from tending to her.


    “The Henderson files,” she said, handing him the folder as he took his seat at the head of the table.


    Their fingers brushed in the exchange. His were warm-warmer than usual. Had Vivienne’s fever transferred to him? Or was it heat from their bodies pressed together?


    “Thank you,” Damien replied curtly.


    The meeting proceeded, but ra struggled to focus. Each time Damien spoke, she couldn’t help wondering if his voice had been this business-like when speaking to a feverish Vivienne, or if he’d used that soft tone she’d heard on the phone.


    “Mrs. Thorne? Your input?” Marcus prompted.


    ra blinked, realizing she’d missed a question. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”


    Damien’s cold stare cut through her. “Perhaps if you were paying attention rather than daydreaming, we could progress more efficiently.”


    The room fell silent. ra straightened her shoulders. “My apologies. Mr. Henderson was asking about the logistics timeline. ording to our projections, we should expect delivery by the third quarter…”


    She recovered smoothly, but the damage was done. Damien’s disapproval lingered like a cloud over the rest of the meeting.


    When it finally ended, ra gathered her notes with trembling hands. The other executives filed out, but Marcus Cole remained behind.


    “Mrs. Thorne,” he said quietly when they were alone. “I wanted to let you know that the handover is essentiallyplete. Your sessor will start shadowing you tomorrow, but honestly, there’s no need for you toe in.”


    ra’s heart skipped. “I see.”


    “Mr. Thorne approved this eleration himself,” Marcus added, his expression sympathetic. “Your severance package will remain as discussed, regardless of the


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    25 A Fever, A Favor, A Final Day


    shortened timeline.”


    Of course. Damien couldn’t wait to erase her from hispany, just as he had from his life.


    “I understand,” she said, her voice hollow. “I’ll clear my desk today, then.”


    Marcus nodded awkwardly before leaving her alone in the conference room.


    ra sat motionless for several minutes. Tomorrow would have been herst day at Thorne Industries-a ce she’d worked for nearly seven years. Now, she wouldn’t even have that final day of closure.


    At her desk, she began packing her personal items into a small cardboard box. There wasn’t much-a photo of Cora, a potted sulent, a few pens she preferred. It was pitiful how little of herself she’d allowed to exist in this space.


    She felt Damien’s presence before she saw him. He stood in the doorway of her office, watching her pack.


    “Marcus informed me he spoke with you,” he said.


    ra continued cing items in her box. “Yes. Thank you for the elerated timeline. I’m sure my recement will handle everything perfectly.”


    “This isn’t personal, ra,” Damien stated tly. “It’s business efficiency.”


    She looked up then, meeting his eyes directly. “Of course it is. Everything between us has always been about efficiency, hasn’t it?”


    Something flickered across his face-surprise, perhaps, at her directness.


    “Your severance package is being processed,” he continued, ignoring herment. “The legal team will contact you regarding final paperwork.”


    “Thank you for your generosity,” she replied, her tone carefully neutral. “I’ll be out of your office within the hour.”


    Damien nodded stiffly and turned to leave. At the doorway, he paused. “Cora will be expecting you this weekend.”


    “I wouldn’t miss it,” ra said softly,


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    25 A Fever, A Favor, A Final Day


    When he was gone, she sank into her chair, a sudden exhaustion overwhelming her. Tomorrow would have been herst day-a milestone, an ending she had mentally prepared for. Now, even that small dignity had been stripped away.


    Her phone buzzed with a text from Julian: “Excited for your first official day at YodaVision tomorrow! The team can’t wait.”


    ra stared at the message, a small smile forming despite her pain. Perhaps this wasn’t just an ending, but a beginning too-one that didn’t include standing in Vivienne’s shadow or enduring Damien’s cold indifference.


    She ced thest item in her box, stood up, and took one final look around the office that had been her professional home for seven years. Then, with her head held high, she walked out-not as Damien Thorne’s wife or his head secretary, but as ra Vance, a woman finally ready to reim her own story.


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