The sun had risen fully now, casting warm light through the large windows of the sitting room. I sat there quietly, in the same chair I'd been in since morning, just watching her.
She hadn't moved. Not really. A small twitch here, a shift in her breathing there. But nothing more.
I told myself to get up. Go make calls. Talk to the board. Fix the mess the business was in.
But I didn't move.
I just kept staring.
There was something about the way she looked so… broken. So lost.
It pulled at something inside me. Something I thought had died along with Audrey.
My phone buzzed again—third time in less than an hour. It was one of my lawyers. I didn't bother picking it. I already knew what they'd say.
"Callum, we need to sue Emeka."
"Callum, the company's bleeding."
"Callum, if we don't restructure…"
I knew all of it. I'd heard it over and over again for weeks now. And yes, I should be doing something about it.
But this woman… she kept pulling my focus.
There was a pain in her that I recognized.
A silence that reminded me of my own.
************
Fiona walked in without knocking, holding a tray with warm food and water. "She's still sleeping?" she asked gently.
I nodded.
"She stirred a little. Might wake up soon."
She placed the tray on the side table and looked at me for a long time. Then she sighed. Loudly.
"You haven't even showered," she said.
"I will."
"Liar," she muttered under her breath, walking toward the couch. She checked the woman's forehead, her pulse, then turned to me again.
"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. This woman—she's clearly been through something awful. But you… you've been staring at her like she's your unfinished business."
"She was lying outside," I said, voice low. "Barefoot. Alone. Like she had nothing left."
"And that made you what? Her savior?"
I looked at her. "No. That made her… familiar."
Fiona's expression softened. She sat beside me, her voice quiet now. "Is this about Audrey?"
"No."
"Yes."
I exhaled deeply. "I don't know. I just… when I saw her lying there, something snapped inside me. Like… I couldn't just walk away. I couldn't turn my back."
Fiona placed a hand on mine. "You've been numb for too long, Callum. Maybe this is God's way of waking you up again."
I didn't answer.
I wasn't ready to believe in signs or fate.
But I couldn't lie—something about this woman stirred me in ways I couldn't explain.
**********
It wasn't until almost noon that she moved.
A sharp jerk of her arm. Then a groan. Her eyes fluttered, slowly opening like she was fighting the light.
Fiona and I stood at the same time.
"Hey… hey, it's okay," Fiona said softly, stepping forward.
But the moment her eyes opened fully and landed on me—she panicked.
She gasped. Sat up too fast. Her hands shook as she tried to push herself back into the corner of the couch.
"No—no! Don't touch me!" she cried.
"Hey, hey—relax," I said, raising my hands. "You're safe. You're in my house. We found you outside."
"Please… please don't take me back," she whispered, her voice full of terror. "Please, I can't go back there. I can't—"
She was trembling now, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Fiona rushed to her side, gently holding her arm. "You're not going back. You're safe here. No one's going to hurt you."
Her eyes darted around the room like she was searching for exits. Her breath came out in sharp, painful gasps.
"I don't even know where I am," she said, her voice breaking. "Where am I? Whose house is this?"
"It's mine," I replied calmly. "My name is Callum. I own this estate. You were found unconscious on the lawn this morning. My staff brought you inside."
She stared at me. Confused. Suspicious.
"Why didn't you leave me there?" she asked.
The question hit me harder than I expected.
"Because I couldn't," I said simply. "You looked like you needed help."
She said nothing. Just stared at the floor, her body still tight and ready to run.
"Can I ask your name?" I tried.
She hesitated. Then, almost like the word hurt her throat, she whispered, "Chidinma."
Clara smiled gently. "That's a beautiful name."
Chidinma didn't respond.
She just curled into herself, pulling the throw blanket tighter around her.
Her hands were still shaking.
"I'll give you both a moment," Fiona said, walking out carefully.
That left the two of us in silence.
I wanted to say something else. Something to ease her fear. But I didn't know how.
"I'm not going to hurt you," I said again. "You can stay here until you feel okay to leave. No one will ask you questions you don't want to answer."
She finally looked at me again. This time, her expression was softer—but still guarded.
"Why are you being kind to me?" she asked, her voice small.
I swallowed. I couldn't give her the real answer. That I saw myself in her. That her pain echoed mine.
So I said, "Because someone once did the same for me."
She blinked slowly, like she was processing that.
Then she looked away.
I stood there for a while longer, watching her tuck her knees into her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them like she was trying to make herself invisible.
I didn't try to comfort her. I knew better than to force it.
But I also knew…
This woman had just stepped into my life at the lowest point.
And suddenly, it didn't feel so empty anymore.