Chapter 15
871 Words
Things changed after that night.
Not suddenly.
Not dramatically.
But enough for everyone to notice.
Especially Emma.
He became calmer around her now.
The sharpness that once followed every conversation had faded into something quieter.
Softer.
He no longer corrected her coldly during meetings.
No longer dismissed her with clipped responses whenever she entered his office.
Even his silences felt different.
Less hostile.
More… comfortable.
And strangely enough—
That alone brought Emma peace.
Work no longer felt like a battlefield every morning.
Instead, she found herself relaxing around him in ways she hadn’t expected.
Which honestly frightened her a little.
Because getting comfortable around a man like him felt dangerous.
Especially when she kept catching herself noticing things she shouldn’t.
The way his voice lowered slightly when speaking only to her.
The way his eyes searched for her first during meetings.
The way he unconsciously moved closer whenever they stood together.
Small things.
Tiny things.
But impossible to ignore.
Unfortunately—
The office noticed too.
Every single day brought fresh gossip.
By Wednesday, Emma was convinced the entire building had collectively abandoned professionalism.
“He looked at you for like six whole seconds,” Mia whispered dramatically during lunch break.
Emma nearly choked on her drink.
“That is not a real observation.”
“It absolutely is.”
“Mia—”
“And yesterday he asked if you’d eaten.”
Emma blinked.
“…because I skipped lunch.”
“He has never cared whether humans consume food before.”
Emma closed her eyes briefly.
“This conversation is exhausting.”
Mia leaned closer across the table.
“You rode to work together twice.”
“We work together.”
“You smiled at him in the elevator.”
“I was being polite.”
“You’re doomed.”
Emma immediately stood up and left before the conversation became even worse.
But deep down—
She knew Mia wasn’t entirely wrong.
Because things between them were changing.
Slowly.
Quietly.
And neither of them seemed to know how to stop it anymore.
—
Thursday afternoon arrived unusually calm.
Emma had just finished reviewing documents when her office phone rang.
His extension.
Her stomach betrayed her immediately.
Ridiculous.
She answered anyway.
“Yes?”
“Come have lunch with me.”
Direct.
Simple.
Like he hadn’t just completely disrupted her concentration with one sentence.
Emma blinked slowly.
“…in your office?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
“Unless you’re busy.”
She glanced at the untouched files in front of her.
“I’m not.”
“Good.”
The line disconnected immediately afterward.
Of course.
Emma stared at the phone for several seconds before sighing softly and standing.
When she entered his office fifteen minutes later, lunch was already arranged neatly on the small meeting table near the windows.
He looked up briefly from his laptop.
“You’re late.”
Emma narrowed her eyes slightly.
“It’s been two minutes.”
“Still late.”
But there was no real criticism in his voice.
And that alone made her suspicious.
Lunch itself felt strangely normal.
Easy.
They talked about work at first.
Then random things.
Lia’s newest obsession with animated princess movies.
Emma’s inability to keep plants alive.
The ridiculous weather.
Small conversations that shouldn’t have mattered.
Yet somehow did.
At one point Emma caught herself laughing softly at something he said.
Actually laughing.
The realization startled both of them slightly.
Because moments like this still felt unfamiliar.
Fragile.
Dangerously real.
Then eventually—
His expression shifted slightly more serious.
“My mother’s birthday is this weekend.”
Emma nodded once.
“That’s nice.”
A brief silence followed.
Then—
“I want you to come with me.”
Emma blinked.
The words landed harder than they should have.
“…what?”
He remained calm.
“There’s a small gathering Saturday evening.”
“And you want me there?”
“Yes.”
Emma stared at him carefully.
Why?
The question sat heavily between them.
Even he seemed to realize it.
Because for the first time in a long while—
He hesitated.
Actual hesitation.
His fingers tapped lightly once against the table before stopping.
Finally—
“Lia wants you there.”
Emma watched him closely.
That answer came too quickly.
Too carefully.
And somehow she knew there was more he wasn’t saying.
Still—
She didn’t push.
Because part of her wasn’t sure she wanted the real answer yet.
“When are you leaving?” she asked quietly.
“Saturday morning.”
Another pause.
“I’ll pick you up at eight.”
Straightforward again.
Controlled.
Like he was trying to regain composure after asking her in the first place.
Emma exhaled softly before nodding.
“…okay.”
Something unreadable flickered briefly across his expression.
Relief perhaps.
Though he hid it almost instantly.
“It’s just a small party,” he added calmly.
Emma smiled faintly.
“I think I can survive one evening.”
If only she knew.
If only she knew that this trip would change far more than a single evening.
Because somewhere ahead—
Waiting quietly beneath polite smiles, family expectations, and carefully hidden truths—
Was a storm neither of them saw coming
- Writer
