For a moment, neither of us moved.
The words lingered between us, quiet but heavy, settling into the space like something that wasn't meant to be taken back or hidden away. I could feel it in the way his hands tightened just slightly at my waist, in the way his gaze didn't waver, didn't look away, as if he was holding onto every part of what I had just said.
There was no teasing now.
No distance.
Just us.
Chak exhaled slowly, his forehead resting lightly against mine for a brief second, his eyes closing as if grounding himself in the moment.
"You make it sound simple," he murmured, his voice low, almost thoughtful.
I huffed out a quiet breath. "Isn't it?"
His eyes opened again, meeting mine, something deeper flickering there.
"No," he said softly. "But with you… it feels like it is."
Something in my chest tightened again, that same warm, overwhelming feeling that I was starting to recognize but still didn't fully understand.
Before it could grow into something too much, too heavy, I shifted slightly in his lap, my hand sliding up to rest at the side of his neck.
"We're going to be late," I said, even though neither of us had made any real effort to move.
Chak didn't answer right away.
Instead, his thumb brushed lightly against my side, slow and absentminded, like he wasn't ready to let go yet.
"Five more minutes," he said.
I raised an eyebrow. "You said fifteen."
"And I'm extending it."
I couldn't help it—I smiled.
"You're the boss. You can't be late."
"I am the boss," he replied calmly. "Which means I decide when I'm late."
I shook my head slightly, but I didn't get up.
Not yet.
His hand moved again, sliding up my back this time, steady and warm, pulling me just a little closer, like even this small distance wasn't acceptable.
"You're dangerous," I murmured.
"For wanting this?" he asked quietly.
"For making it hard to leave," I corrected.
That earned the faintest hint of a smile from him.
"Then don't," he said simply.
For a second, I actually considered it.
Staying.
Ignoring everything outside this room, just like earlier, just like this moment wanted us to.
But reality had a way of catching up, whether we liked it or not.
I let out a quiet breath and leaned forward, pressing one last soft kiss against his lips.
Short.
Gentle.
But enough.
"We'll continue this later," I said softly as I pulled back.
His eyes stayed on mine for a second longer, like he was memorizing something again.
"…We will," he agreed.
Reluctantly, I shifted in his lap and stood up, the absence of contact immediate and noticeable in a way I was starting to hate.
I smoothed my shirt slightly, trying to regain some composure, some sense of normalcy.
Chak stood a second later, adjusting his sleeves, his expression already settling back into that calm, controlled version of himself.
But his eyes—
they hadn't changed.
"Go first," he said.
I nodded.
"Give it a few minutes," I added. "Then come down."
He didn't argue.
Of course he didn't.
I walked to the door, my hand pausing briefly on the handle. For a second, I considered looking back.
I didn't.
If I did, I wasn't sure I'd leave.
So I opened the door and stepped out, the hallway greeting me with its usual quiet, the world already moving forward like nothing had happened.
I closed the door behind me and let out a slow breath.
Then I straightened slightly and started walking, slipping back into routine, into something familiar.
By the time I reached downstairs, I had already settled into my role, nodding at a few people, offering small greetings, acting like I had just arrived.
Like everything was normal.
Like nothing had changed.
But it had.
And I knew it.
I had just reached my desk when I felt it.
That quiet awareness.
That presence.
I didn't need to look to know he had arrived.
A few seconds later, the atmosphere shifted subtly, conversations lowering just slightly, attention pulling without being obvious.
Chak.
He walked in like he always did—calm, composed, untouchable.
Untouchable to everyone else.
His gaze moved across the room briefly—
and stopped on me.
Just for a second.
Barely noticeable.
But enough.
More than enough.
Then he looked away, continuing forward like nothing had happened, like there was nothing to see.
But I felt it.
That invisible thread still there between us.
Unbroken.
And when he passed by my desk, just close enough—
his voice, low and quiet, reached me.
"Don't be late for lunch."
I didn't look up.
Didn't react.
Just let a small, almost invisible smile form.
"I won't."
The rhythm of the office had just begun to settle into its usual pace when the doors opened again, this time with a kind of energy that didn't quite belong to the quiet professionalism of the space.
I glanced up almost instinctively—
and blinked.
Anamarija walked in first.
But not like she usually did.
Not polished, not sharply dressed, not carrying that composed elegance she wore so naturally.
No.
This was… different.
She was wearing an oversized hoodie.
Vikran's hoodie.
And a pair of loose sweatpants that clearly didn't belong to her either.
Her hair was slightly messy, falling around her face in a way that made her look softer, more approachable—almost dangerously so.
Behind her, Vikran followed, calm as always, but there was something in the way his eyes moved, alert, watchful.
I leaned back slightly in my chair, raising an eyebrow.
"…Okay," I said slowly, looking her up and down. "What exactly are you wearing?"
Anamarija didn't even hesitate.
"Him," she replied casually, tilting her head toward Vikran.
I let out a short breath, then looked at him.
Vikran met my gaze without a hint of embarrassment.
"It's better like this," he said simply.
"Better?" I repeated.
His expression didn't change, but there was something firm behind his tone.
"So that guy doesn't fall for her even more."
There was a brief pause.
Then something clicked.
I leaned back a little more, crossing my arms slightly as a quiet realization settled in.
Ah.
So that's how it is.
I almost smiled to myself.
Jealousy had officially entered the room.
Before I could say anything else, a familiar presence shifted the air.
Chak stepped out of his office.
His gaze moved once across the space—
and landed on Anamarija.
There was no hesitation.
"You look good," he said calmly.
Anamarija smiled faintly, a small, appreciative expression that didn't quite reach her eyes.
But Vikran's reaction was immediate.
"Don't let him touch you," he said, his tone sharper now, directed fully at her. "If he bothers you, you can hit him."
A beat.
"Then I'll hit him too."
I raised an eyebrow slightly.
Well.
That escalated fast.
Chak, however, remained completely composed.
"Suraphom will be nearby," he said evenly. "You won't be alone."
That seemed to settle something, at least enough that Vikran didn't respond again.
For a moment, everything held steady.
Then the doors opened again.
And this time—
the atmosphere shifted.
Phalin's brother walked in with the kind of confidence that didn't ask for attention—it assumed it.
His eyes found Anamarija immediately.
And his expression changed.
A slow smile.
"Well," he said, stepping closer, "looks like you really became my girlfriend."
Anamarija didn't miss a beat.
She tilted her head slightly, her expression calm but precise.
"Your girlfriend only for one day," she corrected. "Or rather… just until tonight."
He smiled wider, completely unfazed.
"That's enough time," he said smoothly, "for you to fall in love with me."
For a second, her smile tightened—just barely.
Polite.
Controlled.
Not real.
"Let's go," he added, already turning slightly as if expecting her to follow.
But she didn't move immediately.
Instead, she turned.
First—to Chak.
She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him in a brief, familiar hug.
"See you later," she said quietly.
Chak returned it just as naturally, his hand resting lightly against her back before letting go.
Then she turned to me.
Her arms wrapped around me next, softer, lighter.
"Wish me luck," she murmured.
"You'll be fine," I replied quietly.
She pulled back with a small nod.
And then—
Vikran.
The moment shifted again.
She stepped into him, and this time, the hug lingered.
Longer.
Tighter.
Not rushed.
Not casual.
There was something unspoken there, something heavier beneath the surface that neither of them put into words.
His arms closed around her like he didn't want to let go.
Like he was holding back more than he was showing.
For a second—
too long to be nothing—
they stayed like that.
Then, slowly, she pulled back.
No words.
Just a look.
And then she turned—
and walked toward Phalin's brother.
Without looking back.
The moment Anamarija disappeared through the doors with Phalin's brother, the atmosphere shifted again, quieter now, but heavier in a different way.
Chak didn't wait long.
"Vikran," he said calmly, already turning toward his office, "come with me."
There was no question in his tone.
Vikran followed without a word.
As they passed the front desk, Chak paused just long enough to glance at Non.
"Two coffees. My office."
Non nodded immediately. "Yes, sir."
The door to Chak's office closed behind them, leaving the rest of us in that strange, suspended quiet that always followed when something important moved out of sight.
I exhaled softly and turned back to my desk.
Work.
Focus.
Normal.
I forced my attention back onto the screen, fingers moving across the keyboard, trying to ground myself in something familiar, something safe.
Minutes passed.
Maybe more.
Then—
I heard it.
The sharp, unmistakable sound of heels against the floor.
Slow.
Precise.
Confident.
I didn't even need to look.
A quiet, deep sigh slipped from me before I could stop it.
Of course.
I lifted my gaze anyway.
Phalin.
She walked in like she owned the space, her posture flawless, her expression cold in a way that didn't bother hiding itself.
Her eyes found me immediately.
"Is Chak inside?" she asked, her voice sharp, unpleasantly smooth.
I didn't look away.
"He's busy."
A pause.
Then her lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile.
"You're fired."
The words landed flat.
Cold.
I blinked once, then leaned back slightly in my chair, meeting her gaze without flinching.
"You can't fire me," I said calmly. "You're not the boss."
For a second, nothing moved.
Then—
she smiled.
Slowly.
"Oh, but I am," she said, her voice dripping with quiet satisfaction. "I'm your dear boss's wife."
The way she said it made something tighten in my chest.
"You," she continued, her gaze dragging over me with open disdain, "are just a useless employee."
Silence stretched for a moment.
Then she leaned slightly closer.
"I saw the way you were looking at my husband, on the wedding" she added, her voice lowering. "Why?"
For a split second, I didn't answer.
Instead, my eyes shifted briefly—to Pim.
She stood nearby, still, composed—
and gave the smallest shake of her head.
Barely visible.
But enough.
I looked back at Phalin.
"I was looking at him because I had something for him," I said evenly.
Her eyebrow lifted.
"Oh?" she said. "Is that so?"
Her gaze sharpened.
"Because it looked very different to me."
A beat.
"You were devouring each other with your eyes."
My fingers stilled slightly against the desk.
But I didn't react.
Didn't let it show.
"And I know," she continued, her tone colder now, "you were the one in that 'construction' room."
The air shifted.
Heavier.
More dangerous.
"I was holding a small box," I said calmly. "He asked me to."
Her eyes flicked to it, narrowing slightly.
"A box?" she repeated.
I nodded once.
"So," she said slowly, "what was inside?"
I held her gaze.
Steady.
Unmoved.
"That," I said quietly, "you'll have to ask your husband."
Silence fell between us again.
But this time—
it felt like the beginning of something.
Not the end.