CHAPTER 9 — TOO CLOSE TO IGNORE
1489 Words
AMARA’S POV
The next morning felt strange.
Not because anything had changed.
Because everything felt like it had.
I stood in front of the mirror longer than usual, brushing my hair slower, replaying last night in my head even when I told myself not to.
Nothing happened.
That was the problem.
Because somehow, nothing had still managed to change everything.
The way he stood too close.
The way he said my name.
The way he stepped back like he was protecting something.
Or avoiding it.
I hated that I was thinking about it.
I hated it even more because I knew he probably wasn’t.
Alexander Knight did not stay awake replaying hallway moments.
He probably woke up, wore one of his perfectly pressed suits, and returned to controlling the universe.
I sighed and left my room.
---
Breakfast was already prepared.
Of course.
And he was already there.
Also of course.
He sat at the table reading something on his tablet like last night had never happened.
Calm. Unbothered. Annoyingly composed.
I sat down across from him.
He looked up once.
“Good morning.”
I blinked.
That was new.
I narrowed my eyes slightly.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
He paused.
“No.”
“Interesting. You used actual politeness.”
He went back to his tablet.
“I am capable of basic social behavior.”
“Debatable.”
A pause.
Then—
“I disagree.”
That almost made me smile.
Almost.
---
ALEXANDER’S POV
She is watching me more carefully today.
Expected.
Last night created awareness.
Awareness changes behavior.
She sat across from me, quieter than usual.
But not distant.
Just observant.
That is worse.
Because observant people notice inconsistencies.
And last night contained one.
I allowed proximity I normally would not.
That was inefficient.
It will not repeat.
Probably.
---
“You have another event tonight,” I said.
She looked up immediately.
“Please say you’re joking.”
“I am not.”
She sighed dramatically.
“I liked you better when you spoke less.”
“That is unfortunate.”
She pointed her fork at me.
“That sounded almost like humor.”
“It wasn’t.”
Liar.
I noticed it.
And apparently—
so did she.
Because she smiled.
Small.
Brief.
But real.
And I noticed that too.
More than I should have.
---
AMARA’S POV
The office was easier now.
Still intimidating.
Still too polished.
But easier.
Mostly because I knew where things were.
And because people had started recognizing me.
That was somehow worse.
They looked at me differently now.
Not just as someone near Alexander.
But as someone attached to him.
A woman from another department smiled politely.
“Mrs. Knight.”
I nearly walked into a wall.
Mrs. Knight.
Absolutely not.
I turned slowly.
“Please don’t call me that.”
She looked embarrassed.
“Oh—I’m sorry, I just assumed—”
“No, you assumed correctly,” I said quickly. “I just… need time.”
She smiled politely and walked away.
I stood there in silence.
Mrs. Knight.
That sounded like someone else.
Someone colder.
Someone taller.
Someone who definitely knew how wine worked.
Not me.
---
ALEXANDER’S POV
She walked into my office looking mildly offended by existence.
That usually means someone said something unnecessary.
“What happened?” I asked.
She blinked.
“You ask questions now?”
“Yes.”
She stared for a second.
Then—
“Someone called me Mrs. Knight.”
I paused.
That explains it.
“And?”
She looked offended.
“And? That’s your response?”
“It is accurate.”
She dropped into the chair across from me.
“It sounds strange.”
“It is your name publicly.”
“That sounds even worse.”
I almost corrected her.
Almost.
Instead, I said—
“You’ll adjust.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“Your solution to everything is adjustment.”
“Yes.”
“That must be exhausting.”
“No. Efficient.”
She sighed.
“Sometimes I think you were built in a laboratory.”
That one almost got a reaction.
Almost.
---
AMARA’S POV
Later that afternoon, I found myself in the break area with coffee I didn’t want and thoughts I definitely didn’t want.
That was when she arrived.
Tall. Elegant. Beautiful in the kind of effortless way that made people hate mirrors.
She looked like someone who belonged in Alexander’s world.
Immediately.
She smiled when she saw me.
Polite.
Too polite.
“You must be Amara.”
Something about her voice made my stomach tighten.
“Yes.”
She stepped closer.
“I’m Zara.”
The name hit instantly.
Zara.
His ex.
The Zara.
The one people whispered about.
The one from before.
I kept my expression neutral.
“Nice to meet you.”
She smiled again.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been back.”
Canada.
I remembered.
I hated that I remembered.
Her eyes moved slightly, studying me.
“You’re younger than I expected.”
There it was.
Assessment.
Comparison.
Again.
I smiled politely.
“And you’re exactly what I expected.”
Her smile shifted slightly.
Interesting.
---
ALEXANDER’S POV
I saw Zara before she entered my office.
That alone was enough to create a problem.
Timing is rarely accidental.
She knocked once and entered without waiting.
Predictable.
“You look surprised,” she said.
“I’m not.”
She smiled faintly.
“That’s still your problem, Alexander. You never admit what you feel.”
I looked at her calmly.
“You assume I feel something.”
She leaned against the desk.
“I assume your wife does.”
That made me pause.
Small.
But enough.
She noticed.
Of course she did.
“She’s observant,” Zara said. “I like her.”
“That is irrelevant.”
“Maybe.”
She smiled again.
“But it bothers you that I met her.”
No.
Yes.
I dislike unpredictability.
And Zara is always unpredictable.
---
AMARA’S POV
I told myself I didn’t care.
I absolutely cared.
Not because she was beautiful.
Which she was.
Not because she clearly knew him deeply.
Which she did.
But because she walked through his world like she had once owned part of it.
And maybe she had.
That thought irritated me more than it should have.
I was standing by the balcony again later that evening when he found me.
Apparently balconies were becoming my thing.
“You met Zara,” he said.
Straight to the point.
Of course.
“Yes.”
A pause.
“She’s beautiful.”
Why did I say that?
Why?
He looked at me carefully.
“Yes.”
Rude.
Honest.
But rude.
I crossed my arms.
“She knows you well.”
“Yes.”
Even ruder.
I stared at him.
“Are you trying to make this conversation worse on purpose?”
“No.”
“I don’t believe you.”
That almost made him smile.
Almost.
---
ALEXANDER’S POV
She is irritated.
Not angry.
Something quieter.
Something sharper.
Jealousy?
No.
Unlikely.
But possible.
I should not analyze that possibility.
I do anyway.
“She is from my past,” I said.
That made her pause.
“She clearly still visits it.”
Accurate.
I looked at her.
“And you are my present.”
The silence after that was immediate.
Sharp.
She looked at me like I had said too much.
Maybe I had.
Unnecessary sentence.
Not retractable.
Noted.
---
AMARA’S POV
And you are my present.
That sentence stayed in the air between us like it had weight.
I forgot how to respond.
Actually forgot.
Because he said it so simply.
Like fact.
Like truth.
And somehow that made it worse.
I looked away first.
Because if I didn’t, I might say something reckless.
“That sounds dangerously close to emotion,” I said quietly.
His voice came calm.
“Observation.”
Of course.
I laughed softly.
“There’s your favorite word again.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
But softer now.
Different.
He stepped closer.
Not too much.
Just enough.
And suddenly I was aware of everything again.
The quiet.
The night air.
The distance between us.
Too little.
Too much.
“Amara,” he said.
Just my name.
Nothing else.
But it sounded like more.
My breath caught slightly.
And for one reckless second—
I thought maybe he would close the distance.
Maybe I wanted him to.
But instead—
his phone rang.
Of course it did.
The moment shattered.
He looked at the screen.
Back at me.
Then stepped away.
“I have to take this.”
Naturally.
I nodded once.
Because what else was I supposed to do?
He answered the call and walked inside.
Leaving me alone with my own thoughts.
Which, honestly, was the worst place to be.
Because now I had to admit it.
Something was happening.
And pretending otherwise was getting harder every day.
- Writer
