Chapter 6: Right Place, Wrong Time
812 Words
She barely slept.
And when she did—
It wasn't peaceful.
It was him.
Again.
His voice.
His touch.
That moment replaying in fragments that refused to fade.
By morning, she was exhausted.
Not from lack of sleep—
But from thinking.
Too much thinking.
"This ends today," she told herself quietly as she stood in front of the mirror.
Firm.
Certain.
She had a goal.
A job to secure.
A life to focus on.
Not... whatever that was.
Not him.
She grabbed her bag and walked out.
No hesitation this time.
No looking back.
—
The building stood tall in front of her.
Impressive.
Intimidating.
But she didn't let it get to her.
She had come too far to turn back now.
"Focus," she whispered.
And stepped inside.
Everything about the place screamed power.
Control.
Order.
The complete opposite of how she felt inside.
She approached the front desk, gave her name, and was directed upstairs.
Simple.
Normal.
Exactly how today was supposed to go.
Until it wasn't.
The elevator ride felt longer than it should.
Her reflection in the mirror stared back at her—
Calm on the outside.
Restless underneath.
When the doors opened, she stepped out.
Walked down the hallway.
Stopped in front of the office.
Her heart picked up slightly.
Just nerves.
Nothing else.
She knocked.
"Come in."
Her breath caught.
That voice—
No.
It couldn't be.
Slowly—
She pushed the door open.
And everything stopped.
Her heart.
Her breath.
Her thoughts.
Because there he was.
Standing exactly where she didn't expect him to be.
Like the universe had decided she hadn't struggled enough.
"You..." she breathed.
His eyes locked onto hers instantly.
Sharp.
Focused.
And then—
Something shifted.
Recognition.
Slow.
Dangerous.
"You're here."
Not a question.
A statement.
Her fingers tightened around her bag.
"I—I came for an interview."
Silence filled the room.
Heavy.
Pressing.
Her mind raced.
Trying to catch up.
Trying to understand.
Then it hit her.
Her eyes widened slightly.
"This is your company..."
He didn't deny it.
Didn't confirm it either.
But the way he stood—
The way the room seemed to revolve around him—
Said enough.
Her heart dropped.
Of course.
Of course it had to be him.
A quiet, disbelieving laugh escaped her.
"This has to be a joke."
"It's not."
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
And that made everything worse.
Because she wasn't.
Not even close.
Her first instinct was to leave.
Turn around.
Walk out.
End this before it got complicated.
Before it got worse.
But her feet—
Didn't move.
And that was the problem.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
He always did.
"You stayed."
Her breath hitched slightly.
"I shouldn't have."
But she was still there.
Still standing in front of him.
Still looking at him like she hadn't spent the entire night trying to forget.
His gaze softened—
Just slightly.
Almost unnoticeable.
But enough.
Enough to make her chest tighten again.
"This is a bad idea," she said quietly.
"Yes."
But neither of them moved.
The distance between them stayed the same.
Close enough to feel.
Far enough to pretend.
For now.
Her heart pounded louder.
Faster.
Because this—
This felt exactly like before.
Like something unfinished.
Like something pulling them back to the same place again.
"You can still leave," he said.
Her fingers tightened.
Her mind screamed yes.
But her body—
Her body didn't listen.
"And you can pretend this doesn't matter," she replied softly.
A challenge.
A quiet one.
But it landed.
Something changed in his expression.
Not control.
Not this time.
Something more real.
More dangerous.
He took a step closer.
Her breath caught instantly.
Not fear.
Never fear.
Something else.
Something worse.
Something she couldn't control.
"You're making this harder than it needs to be," he said quietly.
Her heart raced.
"Then stop coming closer."
But her voice betrayed her.
Soft.
Unsteady.
Not convincing.
He didn't stop.
Of course he didn't.
Now he was close enough—
Too close.
The air between them shifted again.
Heavy.
Charged.
Her pulse echoed in her ears.
"You didn't forget," he said.
Not a question.
She swallowed.
"No."
The honesty slipped out before she could stop it.
Silence followed.
But this time—
It felt different.
Not tense.
Not uncertain.
Certain.
Like they had both just admitted something without meaning to.
His hand lifted slowly.
Paused.
Giving her time.
One last chance to step back.
She didn't.
His fingers brushed lightly against her arm.
And just like that—
Everything came rushing back.
Her breath faltered.
Her eyes fluttered slightly.
"That's exactly what I was afraid of..." she whispered.
But she still didn't move.
Didn't pull away.
Didn't stop him.
Because deep down—
She already knew.
This wasn't over.
Not even close.
And maybe—
She didn't want it to be.
- Writer
