Everything we never said

The city always felt loud in the morning. The car horns, the buses. A lot of people moving. Conversations floating from coffee shops and open windows. But as I stepped out of the cab and looked up at the towering glass building in front of me, everything just went quiet. Ross & Vale Technologies. Forty-two floors of glass and steel, a building so tall you'd end up looking at the sky. My new workplace. My new beginning. I adjusted the strap of my handbag and exhaled slowly. You worked for this. No. I had bled for this. Years of late nights. Endless certifications. Fighting to prove myself in rooms where people assumed I was all beauty and no substance. I smiled a little at the thought. If only they knew. If only they knew about the girl I used to be. The girl who always felt like less of herself. The girl who used to go whole days barely eating, telling herself it didn't matter. The girl who used to stare at my phone at two in the morning waiting for one boy to text back. The girl who loved silently. And lost silently. I shook my head. Not today. Today was about the woman I'd become. I glanced at my reflection in the revolving glass doors. And smiled. Because I looked ridiculous. Ridiculously beautiful. A vibrant fitted orange dress hugged my curves perfectly, stopping just below my knees. The fabric made my skin glow. I know how orange looks good on me. My waist looked snatched. My hips — OMG. Well. I had spent years fighting them. Now I dressed to celebrate them. My makeup was bold but precise. I will forever love my black eyeliner, winged out from almond eyes I'm glad I drew a perfect one today. And I also love the fact that my lash tech is in love with me, because this set is arghhhhhh. My lip combo, my pride and joy, was perfection. I tried something new today chestnut liner blended with my new nude palette, made glossy as hell. My curls lay down my back in glossy waves. Colorful rings decorated my fingers. Gold hoops swung gently against my neck. I looked like sunshine with a little bit of chaos. And people noticed. The security guard blinked twice as I approached. "Good morning." I grinned. "Morning." The poor man fumbled his ID scanner. "F-first day?" "Is it that obvious?" He laughed nervously. "No, it's just… nobody forgets their first day." I winked. "Hopefully they'll remember mine too." I took my visitor badge and headed toward the elevators. Heads turned. Not because I was trying. That was the funny thing. I had a presence. Always had. Some people entered a room. I arrived. The older I got, the more I embraced it. Still Beneath the confidence, my stomach fluttered. New city. New company. New people. What if I didn't fit in? What if I wasn't enough? The thoughts came automatically. Old ghosts. I pressed the elevator button. Not today, I reminded myself. Today wasn't about fear. Today was proof. Proof that I survived. Proof that I could always bounce back and do better. Proof that I had become someone I was proud of. The elevator doors slid open. I stepped inside. The ride up was quick, too quick. Anxiety made me feel that thing in my stomach. The doors opened onto the thirty-eighth floor. I stepped out. The office was breathtaking. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Minimalist design. Warm lighting. Expensive art. Employees moved quickly but quietly. Everything screamed money. My heels clicked confidently against the polished floors. Inside, my heart was sprinting. A receptionist looked up. And nearly choked on her coffee. "Oh." I smiled. "Good oh or bad oh?" The woman laughed. "Very good oh." "Excellent." "You must be Ivy Williams." "That's me." The receptionist handed me paperwork. "We've been expecting you." I signed quickly. As I wrote my name, I noticed whispers. Tiny ones. People glancing at me. Smiling. Looking again. I pretended not to notice. But secretly, I always did. I knew I was attractive. It had taken years to admit that without guilt. Years to stop apologizing for taking up space. In high school I'd hidden. Baggy clothes. Oversized hoodies. Shrinking myself. Starving myself. Nobody knew. Not really. I'd smile through dizziness. Laugh through loneliness. Because being seen was terrifying. It had taken years to unlearn that. Years to become the woman standing in this lobby right now, refusing to shrink for anyone. I used to give off that first impression of hatred. Everyone always said I looked mean. The receptionist interrupted my thoughts. "You okay?" I blinked. "Oh." I laughed softly. "Just first-day nerves." "Trust me, you'll be fine." "I hope so." The woman smiled mysteriously. "The CEO personally approved your hiring." My eyebrows rose. "The CEO?" "Mm-hmm." "Should I be scared?" "A little." I groaned. "Oh, no." "He's intense." "Wonderful." "But fair." I gathered my papers. "What's his name?" The receptionist looked down at her computer. "Oh, right. You probably haven't met him." "Nope." "Mr. Ross." I froze. The name hit me like a door slamming shut. Ross. My smile faltered. No. Ross was a common surname. Lots of Rosses existed. My heartbeat picked up anyway. "First name?" I asked casually. Too casually. The receptionist looked confused. "Adrian." Everything inside me stopped. The air. The noise. The room. My fingers tightened around the papers. No. No. There was no way. There had to be hundreds of Adrian Rosses in the world. Right? Right? The receptionist kept talking. "He's been in meetings all morning, but he'll want to welcome you personally." I stared. Not hearing anything else. A strange ringing filled my ears. My palms felt cold. It couldn't be him. It simply couldn't. Because if it was Then after all these years… After finally learning how to breathe without him… Why did I even feel this way, have these thoughts? After burying feelings I never even confessed… I would have to see him. Every day. The receptionist stood. "Come on." I followed automatically. The office floor blurred around me. Employees. Computers. Conversations. Nothing felt real. My heels suddenly sounded too loud. My heartbeat louder. It's not him. It can't be him. Not like I cared, but wait, I actually do. Well, what's the worst that could happen? At least I should see him first. We stopped outside a large office. Dark wood. Glass walls. The receptionist smiled. "He's inside." My stomach dropped. The door was slightly open. I could see broad shoulders. "And why does he still look so handsome," I muttered softly. A man standing by the window. Tall. In a charcoal suit. One hand in his pocket. The other holding a phone. Something about the way he stood. Calm. Controlled. Untouchable— made my chest ache before I even saw his face. The receptionist knocked. "Sir? Ivy Williams is here." The man turned. And time mercilessly folded in on itself. Dark hair. Sharper jaw. Older eyes. Still the same impossible face I'd carried in my heart for years. Adrian Ross. Looking directly at me. Recognition flashing across his expression. My chest tightened… but why? And Adrian— who had always seemed impossible to surprise— looked just as shocked. The world tilted. Because the boy I never confessed to… was standing in front of me. And he was my boss. Memory didn't wait for permission. It just arrived. Seventeen years old. Messy dark hair. Quiet eyes that somehow saw everything. He used to text me nonsense at midnight. "If zombies attacked our school, who survives?" "You because you're weird." "Excuse me?" "You're pretty but suspicious." "And you're rude." "You love me." My chest tightened. Because he had said it jokingly. And I had laughed. Because saying, Actually, I think I do, would have ruined everything. Or so I'd believed. There had been that night. The night everything changed. Eighteen years old. His parents' backyard. Music drifting from the house. Everyone else inside. Just us outside. Talking. Always talking. Adrian sitting close enough for our shoulders to touch. His voice quiet. His eyes softer than I'd ever seen them. Then— his hand reaching for mine. Slowly. Like he was asking permission. My heart had nearly exploded. He leaned in. So did I. His breath warm. My whole body trembling. And right before our lips touched— I pulled away. Terrified. Because what if this ruined us? What if he stopped caring? What if I loved him more? Adrian had gone still. The hurt on his face… I still remembered it. He smiled afterward. Pretended everything was okay. But something changed. A wall. And then graduation came. Life happened. He dated someone else. A beautiful girl. I congratulated him. Then cried in my bathroom afterward. For years. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just quietly. Like grief. And now here he was. Standing in front of me. Ten years later. My boss.