A Year After Us

Episode 8

Cate's POV

It was noisy in the office, but my mind was focused on coding.

One of the deadlines was fast approaching, so while I had extra time, I started fixing the UI logic for the feature the client needed. I was in front of my monitor, headphones on, lost in work.

Suddenly, I thought maybe I needed a visual reference from a past prototype, so I opened my photo gallery on my phone — a habit I’ve developed when I want to revisit old layouts.

Swipe. Swipe. Folder. Screenshot. Then—*

My finger stopped.

There was one picture I didn’t expect to see.

Not a layout. Not a design.

A selfie.

Of a woman.

Familiar.

She was wearing colorful clothes and a hard hat. Background? A mining site.

I gripped my chair. Wait—why is she here?

I opened the details. October 2, two years ago.

The week after… our fight.

I clutched my chest. My fingers turned cold even though our area wasn’t air-conditioned.

It was her.

The woman.

The reason I nearly lost myself.

FLASHBACK (2 Years Ago)

“Please, Karl, I just need space. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

“Okay…” he whispered. “If that’s what you need.”

And I thought that space would help.

But just a few days later, Britt mentioned something — she saw Karl with someone at a restaurant, laughing. Casual. Just friendly, she said.

But when I saw who it was — that’s when I broke.

Engineer. Smart. Beautiful. Funny.

Even I liked her.

At first.

Which made it worse.

I went to Karl’s place. I needed clarity.

And during that conversation...

“Yes. I like her.”

That’s the only line I remember.

The only thing that echoed.

And me? It felt like someone ripped my heart out.

PRESENT

“Hey, Cate, lunch?” Ali suddenly approached.

“Uh… I’ll follow. Just fixing something.”

Ali nodded and walked off.

I couldn’t stop myself — I locked the screen immediately. Closed everything.

But the image stayed in my head.

She was an engineer, too.

One of them.

And now… with all these joint tasks, site visits, and his world bleeding into mine again, I wondered:

What if I’m not the only ghost from the past?

What if she is, too?

I left the office late. I caught up to Karl in the hallway heading to the elevator.

I froze for a second. I could’ve taken the stairs. I could’ve waited for the next one.

But I was tired.

Tired of running.

I walked in. Quiet. No words. No glances.

We both faced the door.

Ding.

The doors closed. Just the two of us. Silence. Deafening.

I could hear the aircon. My breathing. My heartbeat.

Three floors. Then four. Fifth.

But it felt like forever.

Until I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Where did you meet?”

I didn’t look at him. I didn’t say who I was referring to. But he knew.

I heard his breath catch — surprised.

A few seconds passed before he answered.

“Project site. She was a client at one of the branches. Before you asked for space…”

Silence again.

“Cate…”

His voice was strained. Like he wanted to explain, but knew it wasn’t the right time.

Ding.

The doors opened.

I stepped out immediately. I didn’t look back.

I didn’t know if I was hurt by his answer…

Or by the fact that I knew it was the truth.

Back in my room, I dropped onto the bed. Exhausted. No energy left.

Even though I just wanted to sleep, I couldn’t help but replay the elevator moment in my head.

His answer. His voice.

“Project site. She was a client at one of the branches…”

I could tell he avoided looking at me.

And avoided telling the whole story.

I sighed. Opened my laptop to check our pending tasks on the system.

Just in time — a new email.

From: Karl Cavin Tan

Subject: For Review – System Architecture Notes

Time: 10:44 PM

Professional.

Neat.

No unnecessary words.

I scrolled to the bottom… and saw a postscript.

P.S. I don't expect a reply. But thanks for still working with me, even when it's hard.

I swallowed.

I didn’t know if that was a professional compliment…

Or regret he couldn’t hide.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to type “Noted, will review,”

But I didn’t finish.

Instead of typing, I closed the laptop.

I shut my eyes.

No matter how hard I try to keep this “just work”…

He always manages to sneak something in.

12:27 AM.

I thought I’d be asleep by now. But there it was again — that feeling of being completely tired, but your mind won’t stop running.

Then suddenly, Ali messaged.

Ali:

“Still awake? I need a gossip break. Coffee and story time on call?”

I smiled a little. Ali’s always on cue.

Cate:

“Sure. But I’ll just listen, okay? My brain’s fried.”

In minutes, we were on a video call. Both in bonnets, lying down — but she was still holding coffee. Classic.

“Hey,” Ali said first. “You look… drained. That’s not just regular Cate-tired, huh?”

“Just work,” I said, looking away. “You know, revisions. System. Presentation.”

“Hmm. System or… ex-stem?”

I frowned. “What?”

“Ex-stem. Like, because of Karl. Get it?”

Ali. Always turning pain into punchlines.

I laughed, even though I didn’t want to. “Stop it.”

“But seriously,” she said, lowering her voice, “are you really okay?”

I went quiet for a moment. Finally, I gave in.

“I’m okay… but sometimes, there are moments where I’m not,” I whispered. “It’s like I’m not hurting anymore, but I’m not whole either.”

“You know, Cate,” Ali said, “healing isn’t always quiet. Sometimes you think you’re fine, then a trigger comes… and it all comes back.”

I just nodded.

“But I’m proud of you,” she added. “Even with Karl around, you’re not backing down.”

I closed my eyes.

“Thanks, Ali…”

We’re now inside the main conference room of Solterra & Resource Mining Group.

The aircon was cold. Too cold. Or maybe it was just me?

I adjusted the collar of my blouse as the projector lit up the screen. Our entire team was present. Board members. Tech leads. And of course, Karl — silent at the far end of the table.

All eyes were on me.

“Cate, you may begin,” said the COO.

I nodded and took a deep breath. You got this, Cate. You’ve done this many times. This isn’t about him.

“Good morning. I'm Catielyn Kaye Mante, lead systems engineer for this project. Today we'll walk you through the mining operation system design—from extraction tracking to logistics and safety compliance.”

Click. Next slide. Demo begins.

The modules we worked so hard to build appeared one by one. With each explanation, I walked to the whiteboard. I heard note-takers typing. Someone asked a question. I answered right away.

Professional. Calm. Efficient.

But from the corner of my eye — Karl. Silent. Staring. I couldn’t tell if he was curious, impressed, or… something else.

Sometimes, I wanted to look back. But I resisted.

“And this is the predictive analytics dashboard,” I continued. “It helps anticipate possible equipment issues before they occur based on historical data.”

Click. Slide transition.

But on the next screen — what’s that old debug note doing there?

Shit.

“I—uh, sorry, wrong screen.”

I quickly corrected it. “Apologies. That was from an earlier test.”

The whole room went quiet.

Then a voice cut in.

“That’s okay. At least we know you test thoroughly.”

Karl.

A few short laughs followed. I was forced to nod.

“Thanks,” I said, not looking at him.

But I felt his gaze.

You don’t need to look to feel someone — especially someone you once loved completely.

I finished the presentation.

“That concludes the system walk-through. We’re open for questions.”

People asked. Gave feedback. Gave thanks. But not a single question from Karl.

Until the very end.

He stood up.

“No questions,” he said. “But… good work.”

I didn’t know if it was a compliment or closure. But I didn’t say anything more.

After the presentation, I excused myself.

“Just heading to the restroom, guys. Or maybe get some air. My chest feels heavy.”

I didn’t wait for a response.

I ended up at the building’s outdoor terrace — quiet, overlooking the city. Only a few people passed by. Enough to breathe.

I held onto the railing.

“Good work,” Karl’s words echoed in my head.

I couldn’t tell if it was sarcastic, sincere, or just business etiquette. It’s frustrating that it still matters. That no matter how much professionalism I wrapped myself in, I still shook.

I looked up. The sky was already dark. It was evening.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

A voice. Close. Familiar.

I turned.

Karl.

Still in his formal shirt, collar unbuttoned. Holding water. He looked tired. But steady.

I sighed. “Do you need something?”

He shook his head. “No. I just wanted to thank you. For the presentation. It was solid.”

Silence again. Only the sound of wind and rustling leaves in the planters nearby.

“It’s been years, Cate…” he said slowly. “But you still work the same way. Organized. Detailed. Quiet at first — but killer at the end.”

“Was that a compliment or an insult?” I said, half-laughing.

He smiled. “Compliment. Always.”

A brief pause.

“I didn’t expect… that you’d be the one leading our system,” he added.

“Neither did I,” I replied. “If I had known… maybe I would've turned it down.”

“Would you really?” he asked.

I looked at him. “I don’t know.”

And in that moment, I didn’t know whether I wanted to walk away or stay.

Because even though my body wanted to distance itself, all the questions I never answered back then started resurfacing.

He looked at me, serious.

“Cate,” he said softly. “There are things I’ve wanted to tell you. For a long time.”

I gripped the railing tighter.

But before I could answer…

“Karl?”

A voice from inside. Female. Small but clear. “There you are, they’re looking for you.”

The girl. The one I recognized. The girl from before.

He looked back. “Yeah, coming.”

He turned to me again.

“Next time… Cate.”

I just nodded. No words. No promises.

As he walked away, I finally exhaled the breath I’d been holding.

Next time.

I’m not sure if I want it to happen…

Or if I’m just scared it will.