Grace POV
Grace says yes.
She tells Sophia yes over coffee at noon and the word feels like jumping off a cliff. There's no taking it back. No changing her mind. The meeting is scheduled for three o'clock and that's the point of no return.
She has three hours to prepare herself to see Henry Ashford again.
Three hours isn't enough. A lifetime wouldn't be enough.
Grace goes back to her office and tries to work but her fingers won't cooperate with the keyboard. She reads the same email four times and still doesn't understand what it says. She pulls up a contract and the words blur together into meaningless shapes.
Her heart won't stop racing.
She tells herself it's just nerves about the case. Just professional anxiety about taking on a massive client. Just the normal stress of preparing for an important meeting. That's all. Nothing to do with the fact that in one hundred and eighty minutes she's going to see the face of the man who destroyed her.
That's not why her hands are shaking.
At one forty-five Grace walks into the bathroom and looks at herself in the mirror. Her hair is perfect. Her makeup is flawless. Her suit is tailored to make her look powerful and untouchable. She looks exactly like a woman who has her entire life under control.
She looks like a liar.
Grace turns away from the mirror and hates herself for checking it in the first place. Who cares how she looks. Who cares if Henry thinks she's beautiful or broken or completely unmoved by seeing him again. She's not doing this for him. She's doing this because Sophia was right about one thing. The retainer will set them up for years. The case will make them legendary. That's business. That's all.
She's lying to herself and she knows it.
At two fifty-eight her secretary appears in the doorway. "He's here, Grace. Conference room is ready."
Grace's entire body goes still.
He's here. Those two words contain an entire universe of fear and anger and something else that feels dangerously like hope.
She takes thirty seconds. That's all she gives herself. Thirty seconds to breathe. Thirty seconds to remind herself that she's built an empire. That she's unbreakable. That the girl who loved him died seven years ago on a wedding night when someone handed her a prenup like it was a divorce agreement.
She straightens her shoulders.
She pulls on her power like armor. She's worn this suit a thousand times. She's walked into a thousand rooms full of hostile lawyers and scared clients and judges waiting to be convinced. She knows how to be powerful. She knows how to control a space just by walking into it.
She can do this.
Grace walks down the hallway like she's walking into any other business meeting. Her heels click against the tile floor. The office is quiet around her. Everyone is at their desks working. Nobody is watching her walk toward the conference room where Henry Ashford is sitting and waiting and hoping she'll help him.
She reaches the door.
Her hand touches the handle.
For one second she hesitates. She could turn around. She could tell her secretary to send his case to another firm. She could walk away and go back to her safe life where Henry Ashford is just a memory and a name she doesn't say out loud.
She opens the door.
And everything stops.
Henry is sitting at the conference table with his back to the windows. The city sprawls behind him in grey buildings and autumn light. He's wearing a suit that probably costs more than her car. His dark hair is longer than she remembers. His face is harder. But when he looks up and sees her standing in the doorway, something in his expression breaks open like he's been holding his breath since the moment he walked into her office building.
Their eyes meet.
Seven years dissolve in a single moment.
Grace can't breathe. She can't think. She can only stand there in the doorway and watch him look at her like she's the first real thing he's seen in years. His blue eyes track across her face like he's memorizing every detail. Like he's checking to make sure she's real.
The room is suddenly too small.
There's too much air between them and also not enough air. There's too much space and also it's like they're standing too close. Grace can feel her heart slamming against her ribs. She can feel the walls she built starting to crack and she hasn't even spoken to him yet.
Henry stands up slowly.
He doesn't move toward her. He just stands there and looks at her with an expression that's absolutely wrecking her carefully constructed professional distance.
"Grace," he says.
Just her name.
But he says it like it's the answer to something he's been searching for. He says it like finding her name again is finding oxygen. He says it like he's been drowning and she's the only thing that could ever save him.
And Grace feels every single wall she built come tumbling down.
She tells herself to stay strong. She tells herself she's only here for the business. She tells herself she doesn't care about him or the desperation in his voice or the way he's looking at her like she hung the moon.
But her body isn't listening to what her brain is saying.
Henry takes a step forward and Grace takes a step back. Not because she's afraid of him. Because she's afraid of what might happen if he gets close enough to touch her.
"Henry," she says. Professional. Cold. A stranger saying another stranger's name.
Except it's not. It's a woman who loved him saying the name of the man who broke her, and they both know it.
"You came," he says quietly.
"I came to listen," Grace corrects him. "To hear what your case is. To decide if Morrison and Associates can help you. Nothing more."
Henry nods but he doesn't believe her. Grace doesn't believe her either.
She walks past him and sits on the opposite side of the conference table. She puts her professional armor back on. She opens her notebook. She makes herself into the lawyer instead of the girl who loved him.
But underneath that armor her heart is breaking open all over again.
Henry sits back down slowly. He doesn't take his eyes off her. It's like if he looks away she might disappear. It's like she's the only real thing in his entire world.
"Thank you for seeing me," he says.
"Let's talk about Marcus Reid," Grace says. She doesn't look at him. She can't look at him because if she does she might remember what it felt like when he loved her.
"Grace—"
"We're professionals, Henry. Let's keep it that way." She finally looks up at him and her voice is ice. "Tell me about the sabotage. Tell me about your company. Tell me why I should burn seven years of my life helping you survive the consequences of your own choices."
Something flickers across Henry's face. Pain maybe. Or regret. Or the understanding that the woman sitting across from him isn't going to make this easy for him.
"You're right," he says quietly. "You're absolutely right. I deserve that."
And then he starts talking.
He tells her about Marcus. About the stolen contracts. About the false reports destroying his reputation. About the clients abandoning him. About the company crumbling piece by piece.
Grace listens and writes notes and keeps her voice professional. But under the table her hands are shaking and her heart is bleeding and she's remembering exactly why she swore she would never let him close enough to hurt her again.
He's already doing it. Just by sitting across from her and saying her name like it means everything.
Just by being the man she loved and the man she hates and somehow both of them at once.