I barely had time to breathe before it happened.

I was still at my desk, fingers trembling lightly on the keyboard, staring at an email I couldn’t seem to finish. The letters blurred together into an indecipherable knot. My pulse had been too fast all morning, too loud inside my ears, but I was managing to fake it until I heard it.

A voice I hadn’t heard in weeks.

“Elena?”

My head snapped up, the world narrowing to a single point.

Daniel stood just beyond the executive reception desk.

He was dressed in one of those tailored navy suits he loved, holding a coffee in one hand and a thick file in the other. His tie was loose, the top button of his shirt undone, like he wanted people to think he was the kind of man too busy for polish. The coffee and the folder both slipped from his hands when he caught sight of me.

The file hit the marble floor with a muted slap. The coffee splashed across it, bleeding the crisp white pages into a muddy disaster.

He didn’t notice.

His entire focus was locked on me.

“What the hell?” he said, stepping forward, voice too loud for the polished hush of the floor. “You work here?”

I didn’t answer.

I felt the burn of a thousand eyes from every corner, assistants peeking around cubicles, junior partners half-paused mid-conversation, the slow unfurling of gossip in real time.

Daniel’s gaze raked over me. The black blouse tucked neatly into my high-waisted skirt.
The thin silver badge clipped to my waistband with W&S glinting in the light.
My hair pinned back cleanly, no longer the messy knot he used to pretend he didn’t notice.

“You work for him?” he said again, voice sharper now, laced with disbelief.

Before I could open my mouth I heard the soft, certain sound of approaching footsteps behind me.

I didn’t have to turn. I kept my eyes on Daniel, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.

Nicholas came to a stop beside me like he belonged there.

Daniel’s eyes darted up, confusion flickering into something darker.

“He’s your boss?” Daniel said, laughing without humor. “Seriously? You—”

Nicholas didn’t let him finish.

“She works for me,” he said, his voice low, smooth, louder than it needed to be, made for an audience.

Just a simple, final statement dropped into the space between us like a law passing into effect.

Daniel blinked as the full weight of the words hit him.

“I didn’t realize—” Daniel began, words fumbling.

“You didn’t realize a lot of things,” Nicholas said evenly, voice as sharp as a scalpel and twice as cold.

More people had stopped moving now but no one dared to speak.

Nicholas turned slightly toward me–not touching, not crowding, just turning as if to offer a choice. A way out if I wanted it.

“Elena,” he said, that calm, certain voice that sounded like the only safe place in the building. “Walk with me.”

I nodded, the motion small but steady. I stood up, smoothing my skirt with hands that didn’t shake anymore.

As I passed Daniel, I didn’t look at him.

But I heard the soft snap of his ego splintering, the way a brittle old bone does when it’s been cracked too many times to heal properly.

For the first time in years, I felt taller than him.

Taller than the girl who once choked on apologies for taking up too much space.

Taller than the woman who’d starved on the crumbs of a love he dangled just out of reach.

Taller than every version of myself he tried to shrink.