Chapter 4 Four

Orion’s POV

I set the last bag just inside the door and straightened my tie without looking at her. The penthouse already carried a faint smell of hay and fresh dirt from the toys and soil she had scattered earlier. Bessie trotted over right away, gave one quick bleat, and bumped my leg like we were buddies. I stepped around her.

“I have to go to the office,” I said. My voice came out flat, final.

Reina turned from the kitchen island where she was lining up the new treats in a tidy row. A little flour dusted her cheek. “Already? You just walked in.”

“Work does not pause for goat shopping.” I picked up my briefcase. “Keep her contained. No more escapes.”

She tilted her head and smiled softly. “Okay. But you skipped breakfast. I can whip something up fast.”

“No time.” I moved toward the door.

She followed me a few steps and touched my arm lightly. Her fingers felt warm through the sleeve like touching people was the easiest thing in the world. “Be careful out there. The cameras are still hanging around.”

I glanced down at her hand, then up at her face. She did not pull away. My pulse kicked again, same as it had in the elevator. I eased my arm free. “I can handle it.”

The door clicked shut behind me before she could answer.

The office felt like walking into a storm.

My assistant caught me in the hallway with a tablet already open. “The lobby video hit three million views overnight. Finance TikTok is calling it ‘Bessie the Disruptor.’ Memes are everywhere comparing your quarterly projections to goat cheese futures.”

I took the tablet and scrolled. Goat emojis flooded the comments. Late-night shows had run bits. One edit showed Bessie chewing my throw with my face pasted on top saying “merger approved.”

Board emails waited in my inbox. Two demanded an urgent call. One asked if the “fiancée situation” was clouding my judgment. A rival CEO sent a fake congratulations with a goat GIF attached.

I shut my office door and sat. For five minutes I stared at the skyline and tried to breathe evenly. This was my world. I was in control there were no goats or a pretty farm girl who touched my arm like it was nothing and left my skin buzzing.

I called legal first. “Send Takedown requests to every platform immediately.” Then PR. “Draft something short and cold. Label it a private family matter and no more comments.” For the board liaison. “Tell them I am handling it and I don't need distractions.”

By noon my head throbbed. Every notification brought another remix or joke. My assistant knocked once. “The marketing intern wants to pitch, leaning into it. Says it could be relatable brand content.”

“Tell her no. And if she suggests it again she can update her CV.”

I rubbed my temples. The penthouse kept flashing in my mind.

Reina’s laughter in the car, her hand flat on my chest in the elevator.

The way she looked at me like I was worth the effort.

I shoved it all down to focus on work.

I left the office at six tired, hungry and craving silence.

I opened the penthouse door and stopped.

The living room looked like a garden center had thrown up.

There were plants everywhere.

Ferns crowded the coffee table.

Flowering vines draped over the sofa arms.

A whole row of herbs lined the windowsill and spilled onto the floor.

Soil trailed across the white rug in a muddy river. Bessie sat right in the middle of it, chewing a leaf with dirt smudged on her nose.

The smoke alarm beeped in short bursts. Thin gray haze drifted from the kitchen.

While I was trying to come to terms with what I was seeing, Reina hurried out with her flushed cheeks and her hair coming loose from her braid.

“You are home! I wanted to surprise you.”

I stared. “What happened here?"

“I bought some plants. The place felt so empty and quiet.”

She smiled like this was the most natural thing. Like dirt on my rug was a thoughtful gift.

I stepped forward. My shoe sank into soft soil.

“You tracked mud through the entire room.”

“Bessie got excited. She thought the pots were treats.” Reina laughed quietly. “I was going to clean before you got back, but the bread forgot about itself.”

I walked past her to the kitchen that smelled like burnt basil and smoke. Two blackened loaves sat on the counter and the oven door stood open. A tray of charred herb sprigs still smoked faintly.

Reina followed closely. “I wanted to dry some herbs for tea for you. You work so hard and I thought fresh tea would help when you came home.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “This does not help. This is destruction.”

Her smile slipped. She crossed her arms. “It is not destruction. It is life. Your place was so gray and still. I thought a little green would make it easier to breathe.”

I waved at the mess. “I cannot breathe through smoke and dirt.”

She stepped closer and touched my sleeve again. Light. Warm. No hesitation. “You left this morning without a word and you looked so tense. I wanted to fix something for you.”

I looked down at her hand, then at her face. She stood close enough that I could smell apples and smoke and fresh soil. My chest tightened.

“I do not need fixing,” I said.

“Maybe not.” Her fingers stayed. “But you look tired and lonely even if you never say it.”

I pulled my arm away and walked to the window.

Stared at the city lights. Bessie bleated and trotted over, bumping my leg again.

Reina sighed softly behind me. “I will clean it. I promise.”

I did not turn. “Do that.”

But I did not leave the room.

Reina’s POV

I watched Orion stand at the window with his shoulders rigid and his back straight like he carried the whole city on them.

My heart ached a little. I had wanted him to walk in and smile, even just a small one.

Instead, his face went hard and closed.

The plants felt like the perfect idea. The street vendor had such pretty ferns and tiny flowering things. I pictured them softening the sharp edges of this huge glass box he lives in. Back home the air always smells alive. Here it smells like metal and nothing. I wanted him to come home to warmth.

Bessie loved the pots, and she sniffed every one and nibbled a leaf. I laughed when she dug in the soil and sent it flying. I should have stopped her sooner. I see that now.

But she looked so joyful.

The bread was meant to be a welcome. Fresh loaf for someone coming home tired. The oven here is different. Too hot, too quick. I forgot the timer. Now the kitchen smells smoky and the alarm keeps chirping.

Orion walked in, and his face went blank, then tight. I tried to explain. I touched his arm because touching makes things feel real. Makes people feel seen. He pulled away like my hand stung.

He said it was destruction. His voice was so cold it pricked.

But I saw his eyes looked tired and worn out. He left this morning without saying goodbye and I wanted to give him something soft to come home to, instead of giving him more mess.

I stepped closer and touched his sleeve again. “I will clean everything.”

He did not look at me. “Do that.”

But he did not walk away. He stood by the window. Bessie bumped his leg again. He did not push her off.

I smiled a little even though he could not see.

Maybe the ice is thicker than I thought. But ice can melt 

One messy day at a time.