Behind Closed Doors
1093 Words
Chapter 4:
The first time Elyna found herself alone in Aidan Villaraza’s office, she wasn’t sure where to sit.
The chairs were too expensive. The glass table too pristine. The man across the room too composed.
“Take a seat,” he said without looking up, eyes fixed on the tablet in his hand.
She chose the farthest chair—near the window, not directly across from him. Safe.
“This draft is clean,” he added, scrolling through her presentation outline. “But we’ll need to humanize the narrative further. More emotional weight. Less textbook.”
Elyna straightened. “Too technical?”
“No,” he replied, finally lifting his gaze. “Too safe.”
She nodded, already flipping open her notebook. “I can refine the tone.”
“I want your voice in it. Don’t edit yourself to fit what you think I expect.”
That caught her off guard.
“I wasn’t trying to,” she said softly.
He leaned back, fingers steepled. “Good.”
The room was quiet except for the hum of the air conditioner and the distant rhythm of footsteps in the hallway.
Elyna tried not to stare, but it was difficult not to. Up close, Aidan was a contradiction: sharp and calculated, yet oddly still. Not cold. Just… withheld. As though parts of him were kept locked away from the world.
“How do you write like this?” he asked suddenly.
She blinked. “Like what?”
“Clear. Precise. But there’s always something underneath it. Like you’re saying more than what’s written.”
Her heart stumbled in her chest.
“I write the way I think,” she answered. “And I think in layers.”
Aidan tilted his head slightly, a ghost of a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth.
“Interesting.”
He said it like a compliment. It landed like one.
Over the next week, their meetings became more frequent—short, pointed conversations in private rooms, shared notes over coffee-stained papers, revisions passed back and forth with silent nods and unreadable glances.
No one else in the team was invited to these sessions.
Carla noticed first. Her eyes would flick between Elyna and Aidan in meetings, lips pursed in curiosity. Marcus wasn’t subtle—he dropped comments laced with sarcasm about “favorites” and “underrated rising stars.”
Elyna ignored it. Or tried to.
But one afternoon, while reviewing design mockups in the break room, Carla leaned in and said casually, “It’s cute, the way he listens to you. Most of us get five-second summaries. You get full discussions.”
Elyna didn’t flinch. “Maybe he just appreciates clarity.”
“Maybe,” Carla said, sipping her drink. “Or maybe there’s something more interesting going on.”
Elyna didn’t answer.
Because she didn’t know.
That Friday, Aidan called her in for one last revision session before the first internal review. It was already past 6:30 p.m., and most of the building had emptied out.
Elyna entered his office holding a USB drive and a printout of the latest slides. Her heels clicked softly against the polished floor.
“You’re staying late for this?” she asked, setting the files on his desk.
He was seated, jacket off, sleeves rolled up again. His tie hung loose, collar unbuttoned.
“I stay late for things that matter.”
She sat, this time across from him, notebook on her lap. “Then I hope this project is living up to your expectations.”
“It’s exceeding them.”
She glanced up.
He met her eyes and didn’t look away.
“You’re not like the others,” he said.
Elyna blinked. “That’s... not necessarily a compliment.”
“It is in this building.”
Silence stretched between them—full of meaning neither dared to name.
“I wasn’t sure about you at first,” he continued. “You were too quiet. Too careful. But now... I see it.”
“See what?”
He leaned forward, voice lower. “You don’t just do your job. You think ten steps ahead. You listen when others talk over each other. You take notes everyone else forgets to read. You know when to speak—and more importantly, when not to.”
She felt heat rise in her chest.
“That’s just being efficient.”
“No,” he said. “That’s being extraordinary.”
Her breath caught.
There it was again. That word. The one she never dared to associate with herself.
He stood then, walking to the window. The city shimmered below, a map of ambition and sleeplessness.
“I’ve met people who chase titles,” he said, staring out. “And people who chase praise. You don’t chase anything. You just are.”
Elyna swallowed hard. “Maybe I’ve just learned to expect nothing.”
He turned slowly to face her. “You should expect more.”
The quiet between them shifted—warmer now. Not just professional. Not just admiration.
Something unspoken moved in the space between them, like a thread drawn tight.
Elyna stood, breaking the tension. “I should go.”
He nodded once, his voice returning to its usual calm. “Send me the final version by Sunday night.”
She walked to the door, hand on the handle.
Just before she opened it, he said quietly, “Elyna.”
She turned.
His eyes held hers—serious, unreadable, and yet... something more.
“You’re not just part of this project. You’re the reason it’s working.”
She opened her mouth to respond—but no words came.
So she nodded and left, her footsteps echoing down the quiet hallway.
That night, Elyna stood in front of her mirror, makeup smudged, blouse wrinkled, hair pulled into a messy bun. Nothing about her looked extraordinary.
But she could still hear his voice.
“You’re the reason it’s working.”
She touched her reflection as if trying to see what he saw.
And for the first time in a long while, she wondered if maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t as ordinary as she believed.
Meanwhile, Aidan sat in his office long after the lights dimmed.
He didn’t open his laptop. He didn’t check his emails.
He just stared at the closed door where she’d stood, and wondered how long he could keep pretending this was only about work.
Because somewhere between boardrooms and brainstorms, late nights and quiet moments—
He’d started falling.
And she had no idea.
- Writer
