Until My Last Breath

Chapter 2 – The Stranger with Fire in His Eyes

The office was already buzzing when Amara arrived. Phones rang, keyboards clicked, and voices overlapped in the chaos of another weekday. She slipped into her cubicle with a sigh, placing her coffee down and pulling her hair into a loose bun.

Routine. That was her life lately—wake up, work, home, repeat. Even the city outside the tall glass windows seemed to move in predictable patterns: traffic lights changing, cars honking, people rushing, never looking back.

Until she looked up.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice said.

Standing by her desk was a man she had never seen before. He wasn’t dressed like most of the employees—there was something too casual, too confident about the way he wore his navy shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His eyes caught hers, sharp yet warm, the kind of gaze that made her forget, for a second, how to breathe.

“I think I’m lost,” he admitted with a faint smile, holding a folder. “New hire orientation?”

Amara blinked, pulling herself together. “You’re two doors down. You took the wrong turn.” She pointed, a little too quickly.

“Thanks,” he said, but instead of walking away immediately, he lingered just long enough for the silence to stretch. “I’m Lorenzo, by the way.”

“Amara,” she replied before she could stop herself.

His smile widened, as though he had been waiting for her to say her name. Then, with a casual nod, he left.

Amara exhaled, realizing only then that she’d been holding her breath. Her hands trembled slightly as she returned to her computer. It was nothing, she told herself. Just a stranger asking for directions.

But the way his eyes lingered burned into her thoughts longer than she cared to admit.

That evening, when she returned home, Jerome was already there, sitting quietly on the couch with a book unopened in his lap.

“You’re home early,” she said, slipping off her shoes.

“Just tired,” he murmured without looking up.

Amara nodded, setting her bag down. She wanted to tell him about the new face at work, about the strange spark of energy that had unsettled her routine. But when she saw Jerome’s pale complexion and distracted eyes, the words stayed trapped in her throat.

Instead, she sat beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. He kissed her hair absentmindedly, and for a moment, she closed her eyes, willing herself to forget the way another man’s gaze had made her feel alive.