CHANCES

Book 5

Justin walked past two couples and froze. The fluorescent lights threw a harsh glare over the polished table, but his eyes locked on the scene at the far end: Amelia stood by the window, her shoulders hunched, while a tall man in an impeccably tailored suit leaned against the glass, his arm draped casually over her shoulder. The man’s watch caught the light—an unmistakable sign of wealth—and his smile was easy, confident, the kind that belonged to someone who never had to worry about a deadline.

For a heartbeat Justin’s anger seemed to sputter, then it roared back louder than before. He stepped inside, the soft click of the door echoing like a gunshot in the empty room.

“Amelia,” he said, voice flat but edged with something sharper than disappointment.

She turned, startled. The smile that had been on her face slipped away the moment she saw him. The man beside her—Denise—straightened, his eyes flicking between Amelia and the stranger at the door. He didn’t recognize Justin; he was, after all, a stranger to the office and to the man who had just stormed in.

“Justin—” Amelia began, her voice trembling, but he cut her off.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, each word clipped. “You’re here with him? After everything you said? After you made a fool of me in front of the whole floor?”

Denise’s brow furrowed. He was used to being the one in control, the one who walked into rooms and commanded attention, but this was a different kind of confrontation—one that had nothing to do with business and everything to do with a past Amelia had tried to keep hidden.

“Who are you?” Denise asked, his tone polite but wary, the slight accent of someone who had spent years moving between continents.

“Someone who just got called a liar,” Justin snapped, turning his glare back to Amelia. “You’ve been playing both sides all along, haven’t you? One minute you’re tearing me apart, the next you’re cozy with some—”

He gestured at Denise, the motion sharp, “—some rich guy who doesn’t even work here. Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think I’d just walk away and let you have your little reunion?”

Amelia’s eyes filled with tears, the same tears that had already stained her cheeks earlier. She tried to speak, to explain, but the words tangled in her throat.

“I didn’t—” she whispered, the sound barely audible over the hum of the air‑conditioner.”

Justin was too jealous to mind the fact a man was there or to know who the man was he(Justin) was also a wealthy guy then, his father had told him she only wanted money nothing else now he believed it,she was just some gold digger he helplessly fell for."one minute you act all weak and delicate towards me then another you're........"he eyed Denise.

He jabbed a finger toward Denise, “—with a guy who could buy this whole building and still have change left over? You’re a coward, Amelia. You hide behind spreadsheets and your ‘I’m fine’ routine, but you’re just a liar.”

Denise took a tentative step forward, his expression softening. “Justin, I don’t know what’s going on here, but—”

“Stay out of this,” Justin snarled, the words sharp enough to make Denise flinch. “This isn’t about you. It’s about her—about the way she pretends to be something she’s not.”

Amelia’s shoulders shook as a sob escaped her, raw and unfiltered. She pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle the sound, but the tears streamed down her face, glinging on the edge of the conference table.

Justin stared at her for a long, heavy moment, the anger in his eyes flickering with something else—pain, disbelief, maybe a flicker of regret—but it was quickly masked by the cold resolve that had carried him to the door.

“Fine,” he said, voice flat. “If you want to keep pretending this is just a misunderstanding, go ahead. I’m done trying to fix something that was broken the moment you decided to break it.”

He turned on his heel, his coat swinging, and walked toward the elevator. The doors opened, swallowing him whole. As they closed, the soft chime sounded like a final punctuation to a conversation that had never truly begun.

The room fell silent except for the soft whir of the ventilation system. Denise moved to Amelia’s side, placing a tentative hand on her arm.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle, the wealth that usually insulated him from the world now feeling oddly irrelevant.

Amelia shook her head, the tears still falling. “I… I don’t know,” she whispered, the words broken. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”

Denise squeezed her arm, offering the only comfort he could. “We’ll figure it out,” he said, though the words felt fragile in the empty space.

Alone again, Amelia sank into a chair, the weight of Justin’s accusations pressing down on her chest. She stared at the empty doorway, the echo of his footsteps fading, and let the tears flow, each one a reminder that some wounds, once opened, cannot be closed with a simple apology. The clock on the wall ticked on, marking the passage of time that felt both endless and fleeting. In the stillness, she realized that the hardest part of a breakup isn’t the words spoken in anger, but the quiet that follows—when the only thing left to do is sit with the pain and let it run its course.he kept saying 'If you want to keep pretending this is just a misunderstanding, go ahead. I’m done trying to fix something that was broken the moment you decided to break it.'she didn't understand what he meant by it