The cold air from the hallway hit me like clarity".
I walked aimlessly down the quiet corridor, phone in hand, thoughts tangled in a thousand directions.
I stopped near the balcony on the top floor, pushed open the glass door, and let the breeze hit my face.
Along with the stars above and the city lights below, I finally let myself feel everything.
Joe. Michael.
Two men.
Two very different versions of what could be.
Joe, familiar, passionate, messy. A history. A heartbreak. A love that once felt like home, but left me stranded.
Michael, steady, enigmatic, intense.
A man who made my heart race in ways I didn't expect.
Who saw something in me and treated it like it mattered.
I unlocked my phone and stared at Joe's message again.
I saw a picture of you online. You looked amazing today. I meant what I said, I miss you, Ella. We need to talk.
I took a breath.
My reply:
Hey Joe. I'm currently away on a business trip. When I return, we'll talk.
Please understand, I need space right now. Take care.
I hit send.
My fingers hovered for a moment before locking the phone again.
I couldn't deal with him right now.
Not while my emotions were still raw. Not when every time I closed my eyes, I felt Michael's lips lingering on mine.
Back in the Hotel Room
The light was dim.
Michael had cleaned the dishes, folded the napkins, and was now quietly typing something on his laptop from the couch.
I stepped inside, hesitated.
He looked up, his eyes searching mine for answers I wasn't ready to give.
"I texted Joe," I said finally, stepping into the room.
"Told him we'd talk when I return.
I need space to think."
Michael nodded once, slowly, setting his laptop aside. "That's fair. I respect that."
The silence was gentle. Not suffocating. Just full.
I sat down at the edge of the bed, playing with the hem of my dress.
"Michael," I said quietly, "this trip… It's more than just work, isn't it?"
He didn't pretend.
"No, it's not just work. I wanted time with you. Outside the office. Away from the rules."
I looked up at him.
"And what happens when we go back? What are we then?"
Michael stood and crossed to me.
He knelt slightly in front of me, not touching, just close.
"I won't rush you. I don't want to corner you.
But I won't pretend I don't want more."
He stood. "Take your time, Ella. I'll be here, whether as your boss, your friend, or… something else.
Just be honest with yourself."
I watched him walk to the balcony, giving me space.
And inside, my heart whispered the one thing I hadn't dared admit out loud:
What if both men want me… but only one knows how to truly love me right?
Morning Stillness, Afternoon Fire
The light filtered softly through the cream-colored curtains, casting gentle stripes on the hotel floor.
I blinked against the warm glow, rolling slightly onto my side, only to find the bed beside me empty.
The pillow still bore the faint dip of Michael's head, but he was gone.
A subtle scent of cedar and mint lingered in the room.
I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes, when I heard a knock at the door.
"Room service," came Michael's familiar voice.
He walked in a second later with a tray of croissants, fruit, eggs, and two mugs of coffee.
He wore a navy shirt, the top two buttons undone, sleeves casually rolled.
There was a calmness to him, a careful ease, like he knew today mattered but wanted to pretend it didn't.
"I figured we'd need the energy," he said, placing the tray on the small table by the window.
Presentation's not until 2 PM. Thought we could breathe a little."
I smiled.
"You've always been this composed before big moments?"
Michael chuckled. "Not. But I've learned pretending helps."
We sat across from each other, the soft clinking of cutlery the only sound for a moment.
The tension from last night had softened, replaced by something more reflective.
Maybe even peaceful.
I sipped my coffee, watching him.
"You're good at this," I said quietly.
He looked up.
"At what?"
"Making things feel normal. Even when they're anything but."
His lips curved slightly. "Maybe I just want to make you feel safe."
My heart fluttered, but I looked down quickly at my plate.
There was something about how he said it, not demanding, not rushed. Just honest.
Later That Morning
After breakfast, we sat on the couch, going over the slides and notes for the presentation.
He leaned over my shoulder, pointing out transitions, timing our sections.
His arm occasionally brushed mine, but neither of us said anything.
"Slide ten, your part," he said, handing me the clicker. "That's where you shine."
I narrowed my eyes at him.
"You sure you're not trying to set me up to carry the entire thing?"
He raised his hands. "Guilty.
But in my defense, you're better at winning people over."
I laughed, and he tilted his head to watch me with that quiet intensity again, the kind that made me feel seen, even when I was pretending to hide.
As the Clock Ticked Toward Afternoon
We changed into our presentation attire.
I wore a sleek emerald-green blazer and black trousers.
Professional, confident, clean.
He wore charcoal gray, subtle but sharp, the kind of look that said he meant business without needing to shout.
Before we left the room, he paused by the door.
"Ella," he said.
I turned.
He held my gaze.
"Whatever happens in there, you've already impressed me. Just be yourself."
My breath caught.
That was the thing about Michael, he didn't flatter for show. He said things with weight.
"I'll try," I whispered, voice softer than I meant.
He stepped closer but didn't touch me. "You don't need to try.
You just need to be."
Grace Under Fire
The hum of the boardroom lights felt louder than usual. The energy in the room was razor-sharp: a dozen executives, sharp suits, expectant gazes, and one long mahogany table between us and their verdicts.
My heels echoed as I walked to the front.
The projector clicked softly as Michael loaded the slides behind me.
He looked calm, as always.
Me? My heart thudded in my chest like a drum, but I refused to show it.
Michael leaned in and whispered, "You've got this, Ella."
Just that. Simple. Confident. Enough to steady the trembling storm inside me.
I looked out at the room full of eyes and smiled not wide, just enough to own the space.
"Good afternoon," I began, voice crisp, steady. "Today, we're not just presenting a strategy. We're offering a solution."
I walked them through the data, the projections, the branding, weaving in narrative and numbers.
Michael stood beside me, occasionally stepping in to expand on a point, but never once speaking over me.
It was like a practiced duet, unspoken chemistry, unshaken balance.
The Room Watching
As I spoke, I noticed a few things about how Michael's gaze often lingered on me, how he smiled slightly every time I nailed a point.
But more than that, I noticed how others noticed.
There was a moment, mid-sentence, when I looked up and caught one of the older board members raising an eyebrow.
Another leaned into the one beside him and whispered something with a smirk.
Were they speculating?
I brushed it off with practiced ease.
I wasn't here as anyone's "maybe." I was here on merit.
And I was crushing it.
Holding My Ground
During the Q&A, one executive challenged our numbers hard.
He tried to corner me, pointing out a potential gap.
Before Michael could jump in, I raised a hand slightly.
"I see your concern," I said calmly, "but let me redirect that question."
I flipped to an alternate slide I'd prepared just in case.
"This scenario assumes stagnant growth, but if we factor in market adaptation trends from the last two quarters…" I continued, walking them through with precision.
A pause. Then, a thoughtful nod from the board member.
"Well done," he said. "You came prepared."
I smiled, not at him, but at myself.
The Subtle Shift
When it ended, there was polite applause.
Some board members even offered direct compliments. Michael turned to me, eyes full of something warm and proud.
"You were exceptional," he said, quietly but intensely.
"Thank you," I replied, cheeks warming.
It wasn't just professional praise, it was personal recognition.
And that didn't go unnoticed by others either.
As we stepped out into the hallway, I could still feel the eyes, the whispers, the unsaid questions.
But I held my head high.
Because, regardless of what they thought was going on between Michael and me… I knew what I'd brought to that room.
Power. Poise. And presence.