2025-10-30 01:25:38
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CHAPTER 113— The Rumors That Spread Like Fire
By midday, I know the man from the parking lot has started talking.People don’t confront me directly—they’re too subtle for that—but the signs are everywhere. Conversations pause when I walk into a room. Side glances linger too long. A few people soften their tone with me, which is somehow worse, like they’ve already decided I’m fragile or compromised or both.And I know exactly whose name is being whispered beneath all the speculation.His.The weight of that hits harder than it should.I try to focus on work—on numbers, schedules, documents—but every few seconds my brain drifts, wondering where he is, who he’s speaking to, what he’s hearing. And whether he’s about to explode at someone and make everything a thousand times worse.By early afternoon, my nerves are shot.I force myself to leave my desk and walk toward the break room, thinking a cup of tea might steady me. Halfway there, voices drift around the corner—low, conspiratorial, just loud enough for my tired brain to latch on
CHAPTER 112— The Moment He Knows Something’s Wrong
I barely sleep.Every time I drift off, I jolt awake with the same looping image—the man in the parking lot, his voice low, his eyes sharp, his warning curled like a snake around my throat.Being close to him has consequences.By morning, exhaustion sits behind my eyes like bruises, and my stomach twists at every small sound. I tell myself not to overreact. He didn’t threaten me, not directly. He didn’t say anything explicit.But something about the way he looked at me…He knew.Maybe not everything, but enough.And if he talks—No.I can’t think about that.When I step into the building, the familiar hum of conversation feels louder than usual, like people whisper the second I pass. Maybe it’s in my head. Maybe it’s not.Either way, I keep walking, shoulders stiff, heart pounding a little too close to panic.I make it halfway down the hallway before I see him.He’s standing near my office door, talking to someone. Or pretending to. Because the second his eyes lift and find mine, the
NEXT CHAPTER 111 — The Line I Keep Crossing
I don’t see him for the rest of the evening.Which should help.It should let me breathe, let my thoughts settle, let my heart return to something close to normal rhythm.It doesn’t.Every quiet moment becomes an echo of his voice.Every empty hallway feels like the shadow of where he stood.Every time I close my eyes, I hear the words I wasn’t ready to hear:You let me stay close.I wish he didn’t know me that well.I wish he wasn’t right.When the sun slips under the horizon and the last workers filter out of the building, I’m still at my desk—pretending productivity, failing miserably. Eventually I give up and push away from the chair, my body stiff, my mind exhausted.The air outside is cool, sharp with sea salt. The kind of air that should clear my head. Instead, the breeze just carries the ghost of his cologne, or maybe I’m imagining it. Maybe he’s under my skin now, and everything smells like him.The thought makes my stomach twist.I’m halfway across the parking lot when I see
NEXT CHAPTER 110 — The Distance I Can’t Keep
I spend the rest of the day pretending the hallway didn’t happen.Pretending his voice isn’t still in my head.Pretending my pulse isn’t still tangled in the memory of how close he stood.Pretending I don’t replay every word he said—especially the ones whispered too softly to forget.Then let me stay until you’re not scared.It digs into me in ways I can’t afford.I tell myself to work. Focus. Move. Keep busy. It lasts maybe five minutes before my thoughts wander to him again, like a stubborn compass that refuses to point anywhere else.I hate that he does this to me.I hate that I let him.By late afternoon, the sky hangs low and grey over the shoreline, and the smell of the ocean slips in through every open window. I’m at my desk, staring at a stack of reports that should matter more than the sound of one man’s footsteps echoing through my skull.Footsteps I swear I can still hear.Until I actually do.A quiet knock at my half-open office door makes my head snap up. And just like th
CHAPTER 109— The Thing I Couldn’t Say
The hallway outside the meeting room is too bright.White tiles. White walls. Fluorescent lights humming overhead like they know every secret I’m trying to forget. He’s still standing in front of me, waiting for an answer I can’t give him. An answer I don’t even know how to form.“Say it,” he murmurs. “Tell me to walk away.”I look at him—really look at him.The calm he’s wearing is a lie. His eyes betray him. They’re tight around the edges, like he’s bracing for a blow. Like he’s preparing himself to hear something he doesn’t want to hear but will accept anyway.He thinks I’m stronger than I am.I take a breath and it cracks halfway in. “It’s not that simple.”“It is,” he says quietly. “If you wanted me gone, you’d say it.”His voice is soft, but something stubborn lives under it. A kind of hope he’s trying—and failing—to hide.“I shouldn’t…”I swallow. My throat feels tight.“We shouldn’t be doing this.”“We’re not doing anything,” he says. “You’re the one standing three steps away
CHAPTER 108 — What He Shouldn’t Have Heard
The meeting room feels colder than usual.Maybe it’s the aircon.Maybe it’s the tension crawling under my skin.Maybe it’s because he’s sitting only three chairs away from me, close enough that I can feel the weight of his presence even when I’m not looking at him.I keep my eyes on the papers in front of me.Focus.Breathe.Pretend.Everyone is talking—the usual noise of opinions crashing into each other. But I can’t hear any of it clearly. All I hear is the faint, steady rhythm of his breathing and the soft drag of his fingers against the table when he shifts.He shouldn’t be here.Not after what he said.Not after the way my chest hasn’t stopped tightening since.When the supervisor steps out to take a call, the room dips into an awkward silence. A few people check their phones. Someone coughs. And then, very quietly, he rises from his chair.My stomach drops.He walks behind me—slow, careful, like he’s making sure I have time to react if I want to move away. I don’t. Or I can’t. I
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