Nate Nicholson, the handsome and dashing CEO of Nicholson company, is feeling very empty and heartbroken until he meets Brianne Vaughn, the new janitor at his company, he feels very much in love with her because Brianne is very similar to his late fiancée, Elora, it has been a long time since Elora died, but he is still in love with her and Brianne really reminds him of Elora in an entirely different form. Nate decides to marry Brianne and is willing to do anything for her, until his mother, Winona, finds out about their relationship and tries to ruin their relationship because she has set Nate up with Elaine West, a wealthy heiress to marry her son. But Nate still tries to maintain his love for Brianne despite the many obstacles in their relationship. Because Nate is truly obsessed with Brianne.
Chapter 1 You're the cure for my pain
It was a typical day at the Nicholson Office, with employees working diligently at their desks.
Brianne, a new employee in the cleaning service, came out of the elevator wearing a blue uniform, pushing a stroller filled with various cleaning supplies.
With a friendly smile, she walked towards the reception area, greeting receptionists along the way.
"Hi, you must be the new janitor?"
"Yes, I am. I'm Brianne. Nice to meet you."
As they made small talk, Nate Nicholson, CEO of Nicholson Offices, watched from his office doorway. His gaze lingered on Brianne for a moment before he returned to his office, closing the door behind him.
That evening, after most of the employees had gone home, Brianne entered Nate's office to clean. As she emptied the trash can, Nate worked at his desk, unaware of her presence until he looked up and their eyes met briefly.
"Uh, sorry. I didn't see you there... Elora."
"Elora? Oh, I mean... sorry, what's your name again?" he asked, his mind in turmoil as I stared at the unfamiliar face.
"I-this is Brianne, sir," she said softly, confusion evident in her voice.
Her brows furrowed slightly, a small crease forming between them, like...
"Sorry about that." She forced a laugh. "Long days and all..."
Her eyes dropped, focusing on the papers on my desk, as if trying to find solace in them.
"It's okay. It happens to me all the time. So, uh... did you need anything?"
"Oh! Yes, I just came to empty the trash can, Mr. Nicholson." She moved quickly to the wastebasket beside his desk.
As she bent down to pick up the bag, the scent of her shampoo wafted towards him, carrying a hint of vanilla and lavender, reminiscent of Elora's perfume.
"Is everything alright, sir? You look a bit pale..."
"Yes, I'm fine. Just a little tired." His hand reached out to rub his forehead, hoping Elora would believe his reasoning.
"If you're sure." There was hesitation in his voice, but he let it slide. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to finish the rest of this floor."
"Alright, you can continue your work, you don't have to worry about me."
As she turned to leave, the silver pendant around her neck caught the light, partially opening to reveal two photographs inside.
He caught a glimpse of a young girl and an old woman, both strangers to him, but the necklace itself looked familiar.
"Mr. Nicholson?" she called, already halfway out the door. "Do you need anything else tonight?"
"No, that's all. Thank you... Brianne." His voice sounded distant even to himself, lost in the past once more.
With a slow nod, she left, closing the door behind her. The soft click of the lock brought her back to the present.
His eyes stared at the calendar on his desk, the date circled in red tomorrow marking three years since Elora died.
"Was it really that long ago? It feels like just yesterday, I still can't get over it."
A sigh escapes his lips as he rubs his tired face, feeling the weight of fatigue and memories weighing on him.
Outside, darkness enveloped the city, the night growing late, another attempt to drown the sorrow in paperwork. However, for the first time in a long time, his mind wasn't only on Elora.
There was someone else who was now stirring up his feelings, who would be better off buried.
"Brianne, it's you, you look so much like the missing piece of me." He talks to himself.
"Damn it." He whispered harshly into the void, dropping his head into his arms.
Just then, a flash of lightning illuminated the dark sky outside the window. Thunder boomed a few seconds later, making him flinch.
"Mr. Nicholson!"
Her panicked voice split the room.
He turned to see her standing in the doorway, a look of fear on her face.
"I-I'm so sorry. I forgot to put my phone charger on earlier and... I saw your light on." She hugged herself, shifting uncomfortably.
"What are you still doing here this late?"
"Just trying to get some work done." She sighed, rubbing her tired eyes. "What about you?"
"Like I said, I forgot," a loud thundering voice interrupted, making her jump. "Maybe I should wait out this storm somewhere?
Even across the dimly lit room, she saw goosebumps rise on her bare arms. Her air conditioner must be working harder than usual.
"Uh, of course. If you want, it's fine. I'm used to working late at night. But you can stay if you don't feel comfortable walking home alone."
"Are you sure? I can't force..."
But she didn't make a move to leave either, her eyes staring nervously at him.
Suddenly, the overhead lights blink twice before turning off completely, leaving your office pitch black except for the occasional light from the storm.
"Give me a minute. I think there's a flashlight in one of these drawers." He said as he patted his desk.
Before he could find it, a bright flash of light illuminated his office. In that brief light, he saw her taking cautious steps towards his desk, her eyes fixed on him.
"Perhaps we could wait together until the storm passes?"
"Sure, Brianne."
He pulled her close under the guise of comfort, letting his hand remain on her waist as the thunder rumbled.
"Mr. Nicholson," whatever protest she might have uttered was on her lips as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her towards his chest.
The warmth emanating from her body was comforting against the chill in the air. As he held her, he became acutely aware of every curve of her body, every breath she took.
When the next flash of lightning struck, illuminating her surprised expression, he found himself wanting nothing more than to capture that brief moment forever.
Without much thought, he cupped her cheek gently in his palm, his thumb brushing her lower lip. Her breath was ragged, but she did not pull away. Instead, she leaned into his touch a little tighter.
The only sound to be heard was the heavy raindrops on the window, he stood transfixed in a fragile instant, torn between the ghosts of his past and the temptation of the warm, living woman in his arms.
Yet, when the next thunder rumbled outside, he found himself powerless against the urge to pull her even closer, to protect her, to give her comfort.
"It's okay," he murmured against her temple, the smell of wet cloth and perfume intoxicating. "I'm holding you."