Silence reigned inside Beau's office. The acridity of this silence, pinched and scattered with the occasional rustle or two of Suki's pink dress, made Beau want to jump out of his office. Unfortunately, there were zero windows, and the sole door was closest to Suki.

     Meaning, if Beau were to make a run for it, then Suki would stop him faster than she could tell Stasia on him. All for a stupid divorce agreement, never meant to see the light of day.

     Suki watched Beau, her perfect eyebrows arched with supreme disdain. "Any explanation?"

     Beau sighed in defeat. "No."

     She threw his divorce agreement onto the desk. "I think I damn well deserve one, let alone Stasia. We've been friends for four years."

     Instead of folding to Suki's intimidating glare, Beau leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "We met four years ago. The contract isn't signed by Stasia, so it doesn't mean anything." It did. Beau just didn't care about that anymore.

     Suki sneered. "That wasn't my question, Beau. You still asked for it, right?"

     Beau rolled his eyes, though he knew Suki was right. "Yeah. Stasia and I were going through a rough patch a few months ago. I asked a colleague and friend in the Law department to get me a divorce paper." 

     Suki looked on, apparently abhorring this revelation. Beau carried on doggedly, "But I realised that it was all wishful thinking."

      "Wishful thinking?" Suki repeated.

      "Because I grew up." Beau finished. "Marriage isn't running away when things get tough. I realised that I have to work for my relationship and eventually, maybe it'll get better."

      Suki pursed her lips. "You should give Stasia this little speech. She'd throw you out of her office after the first few sentences."

      Beau laughed humourlessly. "I don't doubt that. But don't try to understand my relationship for me, Suki. Stasia and I don't live in black and white."

      Suki's eyes softened. "That's not what I'm doing. But dramatics aren't going to answer what propelled you to think about divorce."

      "I guess that's understandable." Beau said flatly, bringing his fingertips to his forehead as he sighed, trying to clear his thoughts. "After we got married, things were never the same between Stasia and I again. An extra commitment, the biggest one we could make, turned out to be more difficult than we thought."

     "What made it so difficult?"

     Beau stared at her. "If I knew, I'd tell you. But I'd tell Stasia first, obviously."

     "So why do you want to divorce her?"

      "Hypothetically, I used to want to divorce Stasia."

      Suki rolled her eyes. "Why did you hypothetically want to divorce my best friend?"

     "Because we're both miserable. I didn't know about how controlling her family was, until I joined it. I barely knew anything about Stasia's life when I agreed to marry her. I was just another intern working under the Lion Group. When we started dating, Stasia worked so hard to keep me from knowing that she was the heir to a conglomerate."

      "Until you asked her to marry you." Suki finished, beginning to understand. "And then Stasia told you the truth?"

      "Yes. It's not like she could have hidden it then." Beau sighed. "And I couldn't understand why she kept it from me. For months, I ignored Stasia's calls and texts, and I missed her so badly that I could barely get out of bed. Absence does, in fact, make the heart grow fonder."

     "Why didn't you just block Stasia?"

     "Because some part of me didn't want to cut her off. Every day straight, for a whole month, she'd call me at eight in the morning without fail. I watched her name disappear from my phone for a month until I realised that she wasn't going to give up on me. So I shouldn't give up on her."

      Beau felt, with dawning horror, the onset of tears clouding his eyes. He brushed at them roughly, muttering almost to himself, "I really thought we were worth the struggle. Love didn't always feel like pain."

      He felt Suki's fingers brush his, and for a moment, he let her empathise with him. Then he tore his hand away from the desk. Beau could pretend that he didn't want Stasia to be the one comforting him. Until it wasn't pretending anymore.

     "Did you regret going back to her?" Suki asked quietly.

     "No. At the time, I didn't regret anything. I thought that Stasia didn't have any choice over her family, her inheritance. I wanted to be hers, even if she came with a larger burden than most people. Then we fell apart. It could be that the pressure of marriage got to us. Who knows?" Beau rolled his eyes.

      Suki tilted her head, studying him. "Do you really believe that?"

     "What other reason could there be?" Beau asked flatly.

      "Something's changed." Suki murmured. "I would have believed you a year ago, but that night in the restaurant was different. The way you look at Stasia has changed."

"How?" Beau asked defensively.

      Suki smiled enigmatically. "That's for you to figure out. Now that I've dispensed my invaluable advice, I have places to be. Things to do."

     She picked up her massive handbag and swung it over her shoulder, managing to still look elegant as she clicked her heels over to the office door.

       "People to do as well? Like a certain fiancée of yours." Beau quipped.

      Suki gasped dramatically. "Beau! This is a classy establishment, not to mention your workplace. Have some decorum."

      "I'll have decorum when you learn how to knock on a door." Beau said coolly. He stood to watch Suki go. The woman scowled at him.

       "You're going to listen to what I've said, right?" she asked.

       "I'll consider it." Beau replied. As Suki was about to step out of his door, he made a rash decision. "I didn't sign the divorce agreement because I started caring about Stasia. I don't know how, or why, but she's beginning to remind me of why I married her."

       Suki studied him. "Why's that?"

      "Because I can't live without Stasia." Beau said. He was beginning to realise that if his feelings were currently engaged in a war, Beau was losing. 

     Badly.

///

      Stasia Needmore had no idea where her husband's thoughts were.

      Beau was acting more strangely by the day. When they went for raspberry cocktails in London with Suki and her fiancée, Stasia's typical iciness was softened by getting drunk. She knew that.

       Stasia just never expected Beau to respond in kind. He gave her his jacket, and they sat by the Thames and ate ice cream. And when he took her shoulders in his hands, Stasia swore she felt her heart start to race.

     Beau was attractive. It would be stupid to contend that. His eyes were gorgeous and his hair was always perfect. But finding her husband attractive after three years of marriage was practically unheard of. After three years of arguments and indifference, why was he behaving so sweetly to her?

      Why, after three years of hoping in vain that Beau would be kind to her, was he finally fulfilling the vows they made to each other three years ago?

     Stasia's phone buzzed on her desk, breaking the conglomerate heiress from her thoughts. She picked up her phone and scrolled through her unread messages.

      Dinner tonight. Whole family. Don't be late.

      Her blood froze in her veins. Stasia's relationship with her family was never particularly cordial, but they were in the business industry. Maintaining professional relationships was something that the Needmores excelled at.

     The only problem was the facade that Beau and Stasia would have to maintain for a whole dinner.

      Stasia sighed and pressed her fingertips to her temple. She had three hours of work left at a maximum, then she'd have ten minutes to change for this dinner. For once, Stasia actually wished that she could catch a break.

      The best thing to do now would be to quickly inform her husband about the dinner. While it would have been much simpler to drop a quick text to him, the way she always did for the last three years, she wanted to make a change for once.

       Oh, she was still furious about the comment he'd made on her work. But Stasia was beginning to wonder if she'd overreacted.

     Men discussing her work life was always a touchy subject. Stasia was used to the men on the Lion Group Board questioning her leadership. When she took lead of the retail sector as an impressionable eighteen year old, Stasia worked tooth and nail to build herself into a sharp, impressing businesswoman. A woman who took zero disrespect.

     But Beau wasn't one of those men. Regardless of their relationship's downfall, he was always respectful of her. His questions about her work became less and less frequent as the years passed by. 

     So when he suddenly brought it up, admittedly in quite an abrupt way, Stasia snapped. She couldn't help but feel that she owed him an apology. So perhaps now was the best time to do it; contradictory to Stasia's pride, which roared that Stasia shouldn't apologise to anyone because she was a Needmore, damn it.

     The only problem was that Stasia wasn't particularly subtle.

     Her knock at Beau's door was imperious and sharp, even to her own ears. Stasia waited for a few moments, hearing rustling noises coming from the room, before Beau's voice muttered a quiet, "Come in."

     Stasia walked into her husband's office with her arms folded defensively. Beau was sitting at his desk, cramped into the only corner which wasn't occupied by stacks of paper.

      Her eyes widened as she gestured to the mess. "What's this?"

     Beau's eyes darted to his work, and he sighed. "This week's reports from all the departments. Ignore that, what do you need?" he asked hastily.

     Right. She was supposed to apologise.

     Stasia grimaced, shifting from one heel to the other. She really hated apologising. Taking accountability was never an issue, rare as it was for Stasia to make a mistake, but she wasn't used to such personal issues becoming problems that she had to deal with.

     This wasn't a blip on a report. This was an apology to her husband.

     As Beau's warm eyes met Stasia's, she felt her stomach cartwheel. The nerves were really getting to her now.

     "So what's wrong?" he asked cautiously, studying her expression. 

     Everything was going wrong. By now, Stasia should have already made amends and they should have been strategizing for the dinner tonight. But her mouth was dry, her fingers wouldn't stop moving, and those perfectly coiffed curls cascading down Stasia's back felt flat and just... wrong.

     She didn't feel like Anastasia Needmore. But if Stasia wasn't leading the retail sector of the Lion Group, then who was she?

      Her mind kept flashing back to Beau's words. He stared into her eyes, begging her to understand, but Stasia didn't understand.

     You made the Lion Group into your life. It was never your life to begin with.

     Who was she without her career?

     "Stasia?" Beau prompted. She jerked back to reality, staring at Beau like he had two heads. Beau was half standing out of his chair, staring at her with a look of acute concern.

     Stasia wanted to throw up.

     "I'm not feeling well." she managed to say, her voice thin and threadbare. It made Beau's expression even more worried as he got out of his chair and strode over to Stasia. She leaned against the wall of Beau's office, closing her eyes as she felt a sheen of sweat breaking out on her forehead.

      And then something cool. The back of Beau's fingers, gently brushing her burning forehead.

      "I'm calling the family doctor." she felt him move, getting his phone out of his pocket. But he never once dropped his other hand from her head. "You're obviously ill. Do you think it's what I had a few days ago?" Stasia shook her head. She could practically feel Beau's eyes analysing her. "Okay, then."

     They waited in silence as Beau's phone rang softly in his hand.

      "I'm sorry." Stasia whispered. "I never wanted to hurt you, but I think I did anyway."

      Stasia felt Beau completely freeze up, his hand on her forehead becoming rigid. "What do you mean?" he asked, sounding calm, but she felt the tension in his body.

      Her eyelashes fluttered as she drew in a slow breath. "Last night in London, when I told you not to interfere with my work, I was only projecting my insecurities. I've always been scared that without my work, I'll amount to nothing. Without my title, I won't matter to anyone."

      Stasia felt the first onset of tears collect on her eyelashes with her last pronounced sentence. She was so afraid of being honest with herself. Being so wrapped up in her career, and so focused on mitigating her pesky emotions, was all just a coping mechanism. If Stasia was soaring before, this was her crash into the oceans below.

      And Stasia was finally drowning in her own misery.

      She let the tears trail down her cheeks, dripping onto her clothes. For a moment in time, there was only silence.

      And in the moment to follow, there was only warmth.

      Stasia felt Beau's hands gently take hers, and she let him. For once, she wanted to let him in. And she would never regret letting him in again.

      Once she felt the comforting sensation of his hands wrapped in hers, the tears came in earnest. And Stasia leapt over the chasm separating them.

      Without thinking, without keeping her carefully analytic brain switched on, Stasia let go of Beau's hands. And she reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pulled him in. She didn't miss the way his breath quickly drew in, likely from the shock of Stasia hugging him.

      For three years, Stasia and Beau never touched. Never hugged, never held hands, never so much as brushed fingers while passing a dish to each other in the kitchen. There was plenty of space in their house for Stasia to avoid Beau to her heart's content.

     But she didn't want to avoid him anymore. Stasia wanted her husband back.

      And when Beau's arms circled her waist, the sigh that left Stasia's lips wasn't born from frustration, or anger. She felt safe.

     In one hug, Stasia was telling Beau that she was wrong. This was the best way in which she knew how to apologise. 

     Work was never her life. If her business crumbled to nothing, Stasia wanted one person to be standing on the other side.

     She wanted Beau.

///