Page 5 of Worship Him

Once inside my office, I close the door and take a deep breath before picking up the phone.

"This is Adam Ryder," I say into the receiver.

"Mr. Ryder," comes the voice on the other end. "Senator Green wants to discuss your company's role in the upcoming tech summit."

I relax slightly but remain guarded. "Set up a meeting for tomorrow morning."

When I hang up, my mind races through strategies and contingencies. My company's reputation is at stake, and I'll be damned if I let anyone drag it down. This tech summit comes at an opportune time—it can give us a chance to reassert our dominance.

But there's another weight pressing on me—a name that keeps popping up despite my best efforts to shove it aside: Destiny.

No time for that now.

I step back out into the bustling office space, ready to tackle whatever comes next head-on.

"We've got work to do," I say to no one in particular but loud enough for everyone to hear.

And just like that, I'm back in control—where I belong.

After several hours of planning what needs to be mentioned in our company statement, I stride back to my office, feeling the familiar thrum of power in every step.

It’s a thrill I can’t deny. The board meeting's intensity still buzzes in my veins.

As soon as I sit down at my desk, my phone buzzes with a text from my assistant, Claire.

"When's a good time to meet with your lawyer?" she asks.

I stare at the message for a moment, my mind drifting to the reason I need to see Thomas in the first place.

This whole mess—the investigation, the media circus—was the catalyst that tore Destiny and me apart.

We were solid, or so I thought, until the pressure started to crack our foundation.

I type back quickly, "Thursday at 3 PM. Make it happen."

Her immediate response confirms the appointment, and I toss my phone onto the desk, leaning back in my chair.

Divorce.

The word tastes bitter, but I'm not one to wallow. Sure, there's a part of me that wishes things had turned out differently.

Destiny was—no, is—special. But life doesn't wait for anyone to lick their wounds.

My office door creaks open slightly, and Claire pokes her head in, choosing to speak to me rather than send a message this time. "Senator Green's office called again. They want confirmation on tomorrow's meeting."

"Tell them I'll be there," I say without looking up.

"Got it," she says before disappearing again.

I swivel my chair to face the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city. The view is as commanding as ever, but it doesn't hold the same thrill today.

My mind wanders back to those early days with Destiny—the late-night brainstorming sessions that turned into sunrise breakfasts, her laugh echoing in our kitchen as we tried to cook together and failed spectacularly.

"Get it together," I mutter to myself.

The truth is, I'm not moping. I don't do moping.

I'm pissed—at myself for letting things get this far and at her for walking away without a fight. And maybe a little frustrated and disappointed. I thought we’d be together forever.

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