Nia
The next morning, the office felt different. Heavier. Like something invisible had shifted overnight.
I avoided Alexander as much as I could, keeping my focus on my work, answering emails, reviewing reports, doing everything in my power to remain unnoticed. It was easier than facing the confusion swirling inside me.
Still, his presence found me.
"Nia."
I looked up slowly. He stood at my desk, expression controlled, eyes unreadable.
"Come with me," he said.
I followed him into his office, closing the door behind us. He did not speak immediately. He stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back, staring at the city below.
"Did Vanessa speak to you?" he asked finally.
"Yes," I replied honestly.
His jaw tightened. "I told her to stay away from you."
"It is fine," I said, even though it was not. "She made her position clear."
"And what is that position?" he asked.
"That I do not belong," I said softly.
He turned then, his gaze sharp. "Do not let anyone decide that for you."
The words surprised me. "Including you?"
Silence fell.
"You are not like the others," he said quietly. "You work hard. You stay in your lane. You do not ask for favors."
"I did not come here for favors," I said.
"I know."
Something fragile hung between us. A truth neither of us wanted to touch.
"I need you to assist me on a trip," he said suddenly. "Two days. London."
My breath caught. "London?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"Tomorrow."
That night, I barely slept. My mind raced with questions I had no answers to.
The plane ride was quiet. Alexander worked. I stared out the window, pretending the space between us did not feel charged.
In London, the hotel was elegant and imposing.
"There was an error with the booking," the receptionist said apologetically. "We only have one suite available."
Alexander looked at me. I felt my pulse spike.
"That will be fine," he said calmly.
Inside the suite, the tension was thick. Separate rooms. Separate lives. Or so I told myself.
Later that evening, a storm rolled in. Thunder rattled the windows. I sat on the edge of the bed, hugging my arms around myself.
A knock came at my door.
"Yes?"
"It is me," Alexander said.
I opened the door slowly.
"You are shaking," he observed.
"There is a storm," I replied.
He hesitated, then stepped inside. "You are safe."
The words undid something in me.
"I should go," he said.
"Alexander," I whispered before I could stop myself.
He turned.
For a moment, neither of us moved. The air felt heavy with unsaid things.
"I will not touch you," he said hoarsely. "But I cannot pretend you do not affect me."
My heart pounded.
"I am trying to protect you," he continued. "From me."
I nodded, tears stinging my eyes. "Then please succeed."
He left before either of us crossed a line.
And as the door closed, I realized the walls we built were already cracking.