The office lights had dimmed long ago, but Ava Collins remained at her desk, wrapping up the final quarterly reports. The only sounds were the soft hum of the city outside and the steady ticking of the clock on the wall.
She believed she was alone until a familiar voice shattered the silence.
"You're still here," Liam Kingsley said, stepping out of his office. His tie was loosened, sleeves rolled up; that sharp businessman appearance softened by fatigue.
Ava offered a faint smile without turning. "Trying to get ahead before tomorrow's meeting."
He leaned against the doorframe. "You shouldn't push yourself so hard. You've done more than enough."
"I could say the same to you," she replied quietly.
Their eyes locked across the room, and for a brief moment, neither moved. The atmosphere had changed—more subdued and heavier, charged with unexpressed feelings.
Liam took a deliberate step forward. "Ava," he began, his voice low and careful. "If I ask you something, will you promise to be honest?"
She nodded, unsure of what would follow.
"Do you regret it?" he asked simply. "The kiss."
Her breath caught in her throat. "I… I don't know. I should regret it. But I don't."
He sighed softly, his gaze flitting between her eyes and her lips. "Then maybe I'm not being foolish for thinking this isn't over."
Before she could respond, thunder rumbled outside—a storm sweeping through the city once again, just like that night. The memory enveloped them both.
He stepped closer. She should have stopped him, but she found herself frozen in place as his hand grazed her cheek.
This time, their kiss wasn't tentative; it was urgent and filled with every feeling they'd tried to suppress—longing, confusion, and something deeper neither dared to name.
When they finally pulled apart, her heart raced wildly. "Liam," she whispered shakily, "this can't keep happening."
"I know," he replied, resting his forehead against hers. "But I can't stay away from you."
The rain outside poured down harder, mirroring the turmoil in her chest. She didn't know if what they were doing was right or wrong—only that it felt unavoidable.
That night, neither of them would sleep. And neither could foresee how profoundly that moment would alter everything that followed.