Author's note: This is a complete story with a strong focus on intimacy and connection. It's a slow burn, but I hope their story makes up for it. A 'thank you' to
THBGato
for providing input, common sense and a thoughtful touch.
Chapter 1
Rebecca stood in her corner office, the glass walls offering a sweeping view of the city illuminated by countless pinpricks of light. She cradled a tumbler of dark rum, one of the more expensive ones she'd normally keep locked away in her desk. The amber liquid swirled lazily as she gazed past the skyline. It wasn't the city below that held her attention, but the stars above.
Some people found exhilaration in towering over the city, surveying the hustle and chaos beneath them. Not Rebecca. She preferred the serenity of looking up, of watching the stars. They reminded her that even amidst the discord of her world, there was something still untouched by ambition or regret.
She took a slow sip, her thoughts drifting. Lately, those thoughts had a habit of circling back to Zoey. It was strange how memory worked, conjuring fragments of a person she'd tried to compartmentalize and bury.
She didn't seek out Zoey's photos or interviews; they just seemed to find her. Flashes of her old friend in glossy magazines, vibrant and alive, exuding that magnetic energy that made people love her.
Rebecca's eyes dropped to the glass in her hand. The rum was gone, leaving only the faint burn of it lingering on her lips. She glanced into the empty vessel she held.
Empty,
she thought, gazing back at the stars.
Empty, like me.
She placed the glass on her desk, her reflection in the polished surface catching her attention. It was the face of a woman who had clawed her way to the top—ruthless when she needed to be but unyielding always.
But the victories had come at a cost. Self-doubt, once a flicker, had grown into an unshakable shadow. Sometimes, she despised the person she'd become. And she was tired of pretending she was fine. She didn't want to be alone anymore.
A sharp knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.
"Shall I get the car for you, Ms. Sanders?" Paul's voice was polite, measured.
Rebecca gave a curt nod. As he retreated, she glanced back at her desk, a hand brushing over the gala invitation lying atop a neat stack of papers. It was for a fundraiser her company was hosting in a week, an event to raise money for healthcare initiatives in underdeveloped countries. The cause was noble, a deliberate attempt to balance the scales against the compromises she'd made along the way.
Her eyes drifted to her phone. An idea had begun to form, hazy but persistent. It was reckless, absurd, and everything about it screamed bad idea. But the thought took root, stubborn and unshakable. Her fingers scrolled through her contacts until they hovered over a name she hadn't spoken in years.
Carter, Zoey
She stared at it, her thumb hesitating over the screen. She wasn't even sure the number worked anymore. Memories rushed in, flashes of laughter, arguments, and moments that had once felt infinite.
She cursed her own weakness as she realized she didn't dare contact her directly. The idea morphed into something else however. She scribbled some notes for herself on a post-it note so she could follow up the following morning.
She'd take a chance. Either it would work, or it wouldn't.
~~~
Zoey's gaze swept across the room, scanning the crowd with a mixture of curiosity and mild disbelief. Celebrities, politicians, business moguls, musicians, sports icons—each one seemingly more famous than the last. The opulence of the gala was overwhelming, the kind of event that felt more like a dream than reality. The dinner had just ended and people had begun mingling.
She still sat playing with her food, her mind elsewhere. People were fine, but formal events like this weren't really her thing. The invitation had come last minute from the club's newest sponsor, a fresh investor. Her manager had asked her to represent the team. To him, it was obvious: if anyone from the squad could handle the spotlight, it was their star striker. So here she was.
A few familiar faces caught her eye, and for a moment she considered getting up to greet them, to do the social thing expected at events like this. With a quiet sigh, Zoey straightened her back and stood. But as she turned, she froze—time suddenly stretching unbearably slow.
Just a few feet away stood Rebecca Sanders, a glass of champagne in hand, watching her. If Zoey had been looking closely, she might have noticed how tightly Rebecca gripped the stem, or the faint tremble in her free hand. But she didn't. She was too busy taking in the woman in-front of her—all of her.
Rebecca's blonde hair fell in soft waves, and she wore a gown that practically screamed elegance. Not that it mattered because Zoey would have recognized her anywhere, gown or no gown. Rebecca could have worn a paper bag over her head and she would have recognized her.
Rebecca had always carried herself with a certain kind of confidence, but now there was something almost regal about her. Simply put, she looked like a million dollars. Flashes of her absentmindedly chewing on the end of a pen by her desk slipped through Zoey's mind, awakening something that she thought she had long since forgotten. Rebecca had looked so innocent back then.
"Hi," Rebecca said softly, a small wave accompanying a hesitant smile.
Zoey blinked, words catching in her throat. She rarely got surprised, but for once she couldn't find her voice. Rebecca's blue eyes searched her face, looking for a sign of how this reunion was going to go. She hadn't planned for this. Or, that was a lie. She had thought about it. Had imagined it in a dozen different ways—some professional, some painfully personal.
"Where are my manners," Rebecca continued as she gestured towards a man standing slightly behind her. "This is Paul, my assistant. Paul, this is Zoey."
Paul and Zoey greeted each other with nods and hello's respectively, before Paul excused himself, disappearing amongst the crowd.
"It's been a long time," Rebecca continued.
"It has," Zoey finally managed. "I miss the ponytail."
Rebecca blinked. "What?"
"The ponytail. It made you look less... expensive."
Rebecca managed a nervous laugh. "Less expensive?"
"Yeah, you know. Less regal. More like my roommate who used to eat chips in bed."
"I still eat chips in bed, you know."
Zoey exhaled sharply and shook her head.
"God, this is so weird. Of all the ways I thought I'd see you again, this wasn't exactly how I imagined it."
That, at least, made Rebecca smile. "I didn't mean to ambush you like this."
"I didn't even know you were in Highpoint," Zoey continued.
"Not many do. I tend to keep a low profile."
"Done touring the world, then?"
"Something like that." Rebecca gave something of a half-smile. "I missed the city... so I moved my base of operations back here." There was a pause as Rebecca glanced down briefly—a flicker of hesitation. "I'm glad you came."
Zoey tilted her head, brow furrowing slightly. "Huh?"
