The morning felt colder than usual.
Not because of the air-conditioning humming throughout the building, but because Amara still felt rattled from the embarrassing scene earlier. Even though she was starting to calm down, her mind kept replaying the moment she fell on top of Damian.
Her cheeks still warmed at the memory.
She tried to distract herself with work, typing diligently, reviewing documents, writing notes. Anything. Anything to force her heart back into its usual rhythm.
But the elevator dinged.
And she froze mid-sentence.
Someone stepped out.
Heavy footsteps. Purposeful. Familiar.
Kael.
He was walking straight toward her department.
Amara looked down quickly, pretending to be busy. She did not want another confrontation—not after this morning.
Her fingers trembled slightly, but she kept typing.
Her co-workers noticed nothing unusual. They kept talking, flipping through documents, answering calls. Normal office activity filled the hallway.
But the closer Kael came, the more the air shifted—like electricity crawling along the walls.
He wasn't hiding his emotions today.
Not even trying.
Kael's POV (brief)
Kael had always been composed. Always unreadable. Always controlled.
But now?
His glare could've sliced steel.
His breath came short.
His pulse thundered.
He had tried to work.
He couldn't.
He had tried to drink water.
He couldn't swallow.
Every time he blinked, he saw it—
Amara on top of Damian.
Damian holding her waist.
Damian saying her name softly.
And the sight of Amara's flushed face — the way she hid it shyly, when Damian invited her to eat lunch with him — poured gasoline on a fire he didn't even know he had been keeping alive.
It clawed at him from inside his chest.
He had tried to forget it.
He failed.
He had tried to ignore it.
His heart refused.
So now—
He was here.
Walking back to the only person he wanted answers from.
His emotions were a wildfire, and for once, he didn't even care who noticed the flames.
Back to Amara
She sensed him before she saw him.
She forced herself to keep typing, but her heart was pounding so hard that the letters blurred on-screen.
H--He won't cause a scene… right? Not here. Not in the office.
But when he reached her desk—
He didn't speak.
He just stared at her.
A stare that was too intense, too raw, too unguarded.
"Amara," he finally said—low, contained, but trembling at the edges.
She swallowed.
"Yes, sir?" Her voice came out steadier than she expected.
Kael hated the way she addressed him formally.
But he wasn't here to argue about titles.
"Follow me," he said quietly.
Amara blinked. "I--I'm working."
"This won't take long."
His voice was tight. Controlling itself. Barely.
She hesitated. "Sir, if it's about work—"
"It's not about work."
Her heart dropped.
And that was the exact moment her desk mate glanced over curiously.
Kael noticed.
He stepped back a half-step and forced a different expression—still angry, but restrained enough not to draw the whole department's attention.
But Amara knew:
He wasn't going to leave without speaking to her.
So she stood from her seat, slow and cautious.
Kael turned immediately, walking toward the end of the hallway where fewer people passed. She followed a few steps behind, leaving enough distance to breathe properly.
But she didn't expect him to suddenly stop and turn around.
She almost collided into him.
And that was when it happened—
He grabbed her wrist.
Not tightly.
Not painfully.
Just enough to stop her from stepping back.
Enough for her to understand:
Kael was not letting this conversation slip away.
"Let go," Amara whispered.
Her voice wasn't shaky—it was firm.
Kael loosened his hold instantly, but he didn't step away. Their distance remained too close, too tense.
Her wrist tingled from where his hand had been.
He took a breath, chest rising with swallowed anger.
"Amara…" His voice cracked—not loudly, but sharply. "What was that?"
She blinked. "…What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean," he snapped quietly. "That—earlier. The way he—" He swallowed hard. "The way Damian was holding you."
Amara's jaw tightened. "It wasn't what you think."
"Oh really?" Kael's laugh was bitter. "So you just… fall on top of him? In the hallway? Where anyone can see?"
Her eyes flashed.
This time, her anger bubbled up.
"What happened was an accident," she said firmly. "It wasn't—"
"It wasn't what?" Kael leaned in, eyes sharp with jealousy. "It didn't mean anything?"
"It didn't!" she said, meeting his gaze head-on. "And even if it did—why do you care, Kael?"
That hit him.
Hard.
His lips parted, but no words came out.
Amara took a slow breath.
"You made it clear, remember?" she whispered. "You said you didn't love me. You said I meant nothing."
Kael flinched visibly.
His pride.
His stupidity.
His arrogance.
The words he once said came back like knives aimed at his own chest.
He opened his mouth but Amara raised her hand slightly—not touching him, but signalling for him to stop.
"You were with Clariss," she said softly.
Kael stiffened.
Kael looked away, jaw clenched.
Amara continued, voice trembling not from weakness, but from exhaustion.
"I get it, Kael. Clariss suited you more than me. So I don't understand why you are mad at me right now. However,… whatever it is you feel…" Her eyes lowered. "…you have no right to demand anything from me anymore."
Kael turned back immediately, eyes burning.
"Don't say I have no right," he said, voice strained. "Don't you dare say that."
"But it's the truth," she whispered.
"Amara—"
"No."
Her voice rose for the first time.
"No, Kael. The moment you turned me away from your life was the moment you lost the right to mine."
Kael froze, stunned by her sudden strength.
Amara looked straight into his eyes.
"For the first time… I'm choosing myself," she said quietly. "Not you. Not your temper. Not your pride."
Her words struck him like cold water.
Because she never talked back before.
Never defended herself like this.
Never walked away from him.
But today—
She was doing all of it.
And Kael realized instantly:
He was losing her.
Kael's voice broke.
"Amara…" he whispered—barely audible. "Please."
Her eyes widened at the word he rarely ever used.
But she shook her head gently—not in anger, but in a heart-breaking acceptance.
"I'm tired, Kael."
He swallowed.
"I'm not," he said fiercely. "I'm not tired. I'm not finished. I'm not—" He stopped himself, breath shuddering. "I don't want this to be the end."
Amara closed her eyes.
"It already ended," she said softly. "And you ended it."
The silence between them was heavy.
Painful.
Then, footsteps echoed from behind them.
Someone was approaching.
Kael stepped back a little, not wanting an audience, not wanting the whole company to see how desperate he had become.
Amara bowed her head slightly. "Please let me go. I need to return to work."
Kael stared at her—tormented, furious, confused, and shattered all at once.
But he didn't stop her this time.
Her wrist remained free.
Her path remained open.
And her heart… no longer belonged to him.
She walked away.
Kael didn't move.
Not at all.
Not until she was completely out of sight.
Only then did he let the truth crash into him—
Damian wasn't the enemy.
Amara wasn't the problem.
His pride was.
And the moment he finally understood that…
He felt the first true, gut-deep fear of losing her forever.