Chapter 3
Kirk's pov
A month had passed, yet my life still felt like it had been placed on pause since that night. Stacy had disappeared like smoke, leaving behind nothing but the echo of her voice and the memory of her touch. She had given me only her first name, as if that single detail was enough to keep me tethered to her forever.
For a man who had always approached his sex life with calm detachment, what I was experiencing now was uncharted territory.
I had never lost sleep over a woman. I had never replayed the same night in my head over and over again like a broken record. But now, 4 weeks had gone by, and her face still surfaced in my mind every single morning before I even opened my eyes.
Her laughter.
The way her fingers trembled slightly when our hands brushed.
The warmth of her skin under my palms.
It was maddening.
"The houses in the valley have all sold, sir."
Angie's voice broke through my thoughts, almost startling me. I looked up to find her standing by my desk, her lips curled into one of those calculated smiles she reserved just for me.
"Well, that's a win, Angie," I said, forcing a measure of enthusiasm into my voice. "Good job."
She straightened, clearly pleased. "I knew you'd be happy."
Happy. I almost laughed. If only she knew the storm brewing inside me.
Starry Homes was still struggling to find its footing. It was ironic, really. I was the son of a billionaire, raised under a roof of endless resources, yet here I was - battling the odds to build my own empire from scratch. My father had never supported this. He had made it clear that if I wanted to survive in the real world, I should do so without his safety net.
And I had accepted that challenge proudly.
Tracing Stacy would have been ridiculously easy if I had just called him. Or my brother. They could have found her in a matter of hours. But that would come with expectations, with obligations, with silent demands that I return to the family business.
I refused.
Angie was still staring at me.
"A penny for your thoughts, boss," she said softly, leaning forward slightly. Her hand rested on the desk as she twisted a lock of her dark hair around her finger.
Her blouse dipped dangerously low, exposing more of her cleavage than professionalism allowed. She knew exactly what she was doing. Angie always did.
I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable. When would she finally understand that her tactics were pointless?
"Is there anything else you need before I leave your office?" she asked, her voice smooth as honey.
"I don't want anything, Angie," I replied, my patience thinning.
Her smile faltered slightly, but she remained planted where she stood.
Since the day she joined Starry Homes, Angie had made no secret of her desire for me. She flirted shamelessly, brushed against me unnecessarily, laughed too loudly at my jokes. Ordinarily, I might have indulged her, might have allowed myself that distraction.
But Stacy had changed everything.
Four weeks ago, long before Angie's presence could excite me even remotely, Stacy had made herself the center of my universe without even trying. The sight of Angie's body should have stirred something. Instead, it felt hollow, meaningless.
Stacy's memory had poisoned me. Or perhaps healed me. I couldn't tell.
"Angie," I sighed, pressing my fingers to my temple, "leave my office."
This time, my voice held no amusement, no tolerance.
Her eyes widened in surprise. For a moment, I thought she would finally obey. Instead, something unreadable flickered inside her gaze — determination, maybe.
She rounded the desk and stepped closer. Too close.
Before I could react, she leaned down and pressed her lips against mine.
The shock froze me momentarily. Her body molded against mine, her warmth seeping through the fabric of our clothes. I could feel the curve of her breasts, the softness of her skin, the faint scent of her perfume wrapping around me.
This should have ignited something.
It didn't.
My body remained stiff, unresponsive. My thoughts drifted, not to Angie, but to Stacy - her soft sighs, the warmth of her embrace.
I pushed Angie away gently but firmly.
She stared at me, wounded pride flashing across her face. Without another word, she turned and walked out. Only then did I notice how short her skirt truly was, how much skin she had offered.
And yet… none of it mattered.
The burning in my chest returned, sharp and relentless. It wasn't lust. It wasn't just desire. It was longing — a deep, consuming ache for a woman who had turned my world upside down and disappeared.
I grabbed my jacket and keys.
I couldn't breathe in that office anymore.
The gym was my refuge whenever my mind threatened to drown me. The steady rhythm of exertion usually cleared my thoughts, but today, even the familiar scent of sweat and steel couldn't erase her image.
Joe greeted me with his usual energy, slapping my shoulder.
"Man, you look like hell. Rough day?"
"You could say that," I muttered.
We started our routine, but my movements were unfocused, my punches lacking rhythm. Joe noticed quickly.
"Alright, enough. What's going on? You're somewhere else."
I hesitated, then gave in.
"Four weeks ago, I went to a bar and met a woman…"
"Typical Kirk," he interrupted with a grin.
"This isn't a joke," I snapped. "I can't get over her, Joe. I've never experienced anything like this."
His teasing faded. "So the heartbreaker has a heart after all."
"I was never a heartbreaker," I said, punching the bag with force. "The women always knew where they stood with me."
"So what's different about this one?"
"She didn't feel like just another woman." My voice dropped. "She felt like… something more. And she disappeared."
Joe leaned against the wall, listening intently now.
"She only told me her name," I continued. "Stacy. That's it. I contacted the phone company, tried to trace her."
He chuckled. "You went that far?"
"There were over one thousand five hundred Stacys," I groaned. "So I tried the directory. Described her - Five-eight. Red hair. Blue eyes."
"And?" he asked.
"Fifty matches. Fifty possible ghosts. I'm stuck, Joe. Completely stuck."
"Didn't think the great Kirk would ever chase a woman like this."
"I'm not chasing," I muttered. "I'm searching. There's a difference."
We returned to our workout, the silence thick. I sensed Joe's mind ticking.
Then he asked, quietly this time, "Kirk… did you use protection?"
The question sent a strange chill down my spine.
"That's random," I said, my lips curling into a snare.
"Just answer me."
I huffed out a deep breath of frustration. "No. Why?"
His expression changed. Something serious replaced his usual humor.
"Because… It's unprofessional, but a Stacy walked into my hospital yesterday." he said slowly. "Tall, red hair, blue eyes..."
My heart stuttered violently.
"What?" I breathed.
"She was tested and confirmed pregnant." His eyes rolled. "She's four weeks pregnant."
The world tilted.
Four weeks.
The same four weeks I had been drowning in her memory.
The same four weeks since that night.
That's definitely my Stacy. It had to be her. There were not that many coincidences in the world.
My chest felt tight, painfully so.
"Where is she?" I asked, my voice raw.
"She'll be back for another appointment tomorrow."