Emma
I didn't expect the hotel room to feel this quiet. The quietness of the place wasn't exactly a soothing one; it was the kind that reminds you that something is missing.
This business seminar was supposed to give me some space. Just two days away. A thousand kilometers between me and Ace Blacke. No awkward hallway run-ins. No silence in the kitchen. No strange tension when we passed each other like strangers. It's just me, my work, and my thoughts. But fate doesn't care about your plans. That morning, during the seminar, I spotted Rafael. He entered from the rear of the room, sunglasses removed, that same half-smile on his face, as if he still thought it was effective. My stomach twisted twice. Then sank.
He saw me. Of course he did. "Emma Ocean," he said, loud enough for people to look around. "What are the odds?"
I could have walked away. Pretended not to hear him. But that would feel like he won. So I stopped, turned around, and tried to keep my face calm.
"Rafael Nolan," I said. Like it was just a name. Nothing more.
He smiled. That same smile I remembered; half kind, half trouble.
"I didn't know you'd be here," I said.
"Neither did I. Booked a last-minute flight. Lucky me."
I didn't ask who told him. I already had a guess because he has eyes and ears everywhere.
"I'm heading to the next session," I said.
"I'll walk you in," he offered.
His eyes were too warm. I nodded without thinking. We walked silently next to each other, not too close, though being close to him was suffocating. Rafael was my past, and I didn't know the past had caught up this fast.
Later that afternoon, I was heading out of the hotel lobby to pack my luggage when I heard my name. Quiet, but clear. I stopped near the elevators and glanced around. It was a guy from the seminar, one of Ace's friends, Damien. He was on the phone, pacing slowly.
"…Yeah, I saw Emma and Rafael at the seminar today," he said, voice low but serious. "Looked pretty cozy." He told the person at the other end.
I froze. That was all I needed to hear. I turned away before he noticed me and kept walking. My stomach twisted. Somehow, the past was no longer behind me.
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By the second evening, I'd had enough of countless meetings, work, and hotel food. I packed fast and barely looked at Rafael during the farewell get-together.
I returned home that evening. It was a little after 9 p.m. when I got home; I was so tired that I just wanted to sleep. Maria, the housekeeper, greeted me at the door with a smile. But it faded when she noticed Ace standing by the window, holding an envelope with my name on it. And so was the Nolan Group logo.
My heart skipped.
"Welcome home, Madam," Maria said softly.
Ace just stares at me. He held out the envelope. "He sent this here."
"Who?" I asked.
"Who else? Just take a guess." He replied.
I took it from him. Our fingers brushed. Just for a second. Still too long. My throat felt dry. "Thank you."
"Can't you be a little more discreet with your affairs?" he asked. His voice wasn't raised, but it carried weight.
"It's none of your business," I said, sharper than I meant to be.
"Isn't it?" He asked calmly as ever.
His calmness made everything worse. It wasn't indifference; it was control. Like he was holding something back, he was folding his emotion neatly into silence so I wouldn't see the edges.
I pointed my finger at him. "You don't get to ask questions like that. Not after the clause you added."
He took a breath, slow and measured. "I added that clause for your freedom. Not for you to throw it in my face."
I looked at him for the first time, and I wondered if this thing between us had rules we never agreed on, boundaries we kept breaking just by standing in the same room.
"You don't get to care," I said again, softer this time.
"But I do," he said quietly. "That's the problem."
"You added a clause," I said. "No interfering in personal lives."
He nodded. "I did."
"And I've respected it." I managed to say.
He stayed quiet for a moment. "I just didn't expect your ex to be that bold," he said, turning away.
I stood there, envelope in hand, feeling like it weighed more than it should. I didn't open it that night.
The next day, it got worse. Patricia showed up. She popped up in the Blacke Tech parking lot, wearing a red dress that didn't belong in daylight. I didn't see her right away; I was on my way out for a meeting. But she made sure I saw her.
"I see the rumors are true," she said, stepping in front of me.
"Rumors?" I asked.
"That you're playing house with Ace." She replied.
I sighed. "Lady, if you're here for drama, I don't have the energy."
She tilted her head. "You'll need it soon. You and I both know this little setup won't last."
I didn't flinch. "You've had years. If he wanted you, he'd have chosen you."
She smiled, slow and smug. "I told his mother about you, you know. His grandmother is hosting brunch next weekend. They'll be expecting 'Mrs. Blacke."
My stomach turned.
"Better bring your A-game," she said, walking off. Her heels clicked like a warning.
I didn't tell Ace about this encounter, not even about the supposed upcoming brunch. Not yet, though. Because I didn't want to admit it mattered. Because I wasn't sure why it did.
That night, I heard soft jazz coming from the living room. He never played music. I stepped out in my robe, barefoot, just to look.
Ace stood by the bar, pouring himself a drink. Something dark and expensive.
"Want one?" he asked, not turning around.
I nodded, and he poured. We stood by the window in silence with two glasses and too many things left unsaid.
"Why didn't you tell me he'd be there?" he asked.
I didn't pretend to be confused. "Because I didn't know. And even if I did… It's not your place to know or care."
He looked at me. Hard. "You're right," he said. But then he picked up his drink and took a long sip. And that said more than his words ever could.