MK spent the next few days doing something she never enjoyed but always excelled at — letting go of control.
She walked Mike through systems, old projects, upcoming proposals. They worked well together, surprisingly well, each balancing the other in ways the board had always hoped for.
By the final day, everything was in place.
"Your flight is tonight," Jesse said, leaning on the office doorframe. "How do you feel?"
MK signed the last file and closed the folder with a soft exhale.
"Lost," she admitted.
Jesse blinked. "Lost? Why?"
MK lifted her eyes, giving Jesse that half-serious, half-childish expression she rarely showed anyone else.
"I don't know where to begin. And… without you."
Jesse snorted dramatically. "Oh please. You're a grown adult. You'll survive."
MK laughed, but her voice lowered.
"You'll come visit me, right?"
"In turns," Jesse said. "I'll visit you, and you'll visit me. Don't act like I'm abandoning you on a deserted island."
But when they hugged goodbye later that night, it didn't feel like a joke.
For the first time in years, MK was stepping into the world without Jesse by her side.
She waved, swallowing down the ache.
"Damn… who's going to correct me when I mess up?"
---
Back Home — But Not Really Home
The air at the airport was familiar, warm, almost welcoming.
MK took a deep breath.
Nothing had changed without her.
People moved around effortlessly.
Life continued like she never left.
A strange feeling.
"MK! Welcome back."
Rebecca waved, approaching with a warm smile. She had taken MK's old position as finance manager, meaning MK would need a new secretary.
"Please tell me my secretary isn't Mike's old secretary," MK begged immediately.
Rebecca laughed. "No. I thought you'd prefer choosing your own. Interviews start Monday."
MK exhaled in relief.
They drove through the city, updates filling the silence. New buildings. New routes. New developments. It all felt familiar yet foreign.
Rebecca dropped her at the new apartment — top floor, three stories high, partially furnished.
MK walked in, looked around at the boxes and empty space, and muttered:
"Shopping without Jesse won't be the same."
She dropped her luggage on the floor and collapsed onto the bed without unpacking.
Sleep claimed her instantly.
---
The following days were a cycle of:
• working
• decorating
• meeting old colleagues
• reviewing new systems
• attending introductions
• pretending she was okay
MK picked light blue décor, added subtle modern touches, tried to make the apartment feel less hollow. She spent long hours at Starlight HQ — meeting the staff, understanding new boards, catching up on changes.
"MK," Rebecca said one evening. "You've been working nonstop. My husband and his friends are having a game night at this new club. Want to join?"
Games.
MK's guilty pleasure.
Her stress-relief.
Her childhood joy.
She missed playing football.
She missed screaming at screens.
She missed being messy, loud, human.
"Where is it?" MK asked.
Rebecca described the club — huge, modern, popular.
MK agreed before her brain had time to think.
---
Inside the Club
The club was enormous. A mix of neon glow, loud laughter, and music vibrating from the walls. The kind of place young MK would've made her playground.
Now, she walked through it like a statue with a pulse.
As they moved deeper, MK's eyes drifted automatically, scanning faces, lights, bodies—
And then she froze.
At the far side of the club, almost hidden by shadows:
Shriya.
MK's breath stopped.
Shriya was leaning in toward a girl — slim, slightly shorter than MK, styled with a, Short, half-shaved, dyed top with black roots.
Hairstyle.
MK's heart twisted painfully.
So I'm am too late, .
She swallowed hard and forced her feet to keep moving.
---
They passed into the gaming zone where several screens showed an international football match.
MK almost stopped breathing.
Her team.
Her jersey colors.
Her people.
Crowds were shouting, cheering, leaning forward as if ready to jump into the screen.
MK wanted to join them.
She wanted to scream when her team missed a chance.
Wanted to curse the referee.
Wanted to laugh when the crowd booed.
But she couldn't.
A CEO caught doing that?
Someone would film her.
Post it.
Twist it.
Mock it.
Drag the company into it.
So she held her breath.
Straightened her back.
Walked like her heels were made of iron.
---
Rebecca introduced her to her husband's group.
They talked, laughed, exchanged playful banter about teams.
MK smiled, nodded, drank slowly — but her mind felt like it was drowning under everything she had swallowed tonight.
After a while, she excused herself to the restroom.
---
The restroom was empty.
MK leaned against the sink, staring at the mirror.
At the perfect makeup.
The formal clothes.
The expensive perfume.
She hated it.
She hated how trapped she felt.
Growing up, she thought money meant freedom.
Buy what she wanted.
Live how she wanted.
Be accepted.
But the higher she climbed…
the smaller her world became.
The cheer outside when her team scored felt like a dagger to her chest.
She whispered to her reflection:
"Don't do anything stupid."
Then another wave of cheers echoed.
Her control snapped.
"WHY IS IT SO UNFAIR?!" she shouted, and her fist flew.
The mirror cracked under the punch.
Pain surged through her hand.
"Shit—damn—" MK hissed through her teeth.
She stared at her bleeding knuckles.
"I really need to stop smashing things," she muttered.
Then—
"MK? What happened?" a panicked voice asked rushing to her side .