There were too many eyes in the office.
Too many looks. Some familiar, most not — all curious.
I'd been gone too long, and now every hallway felt like a question I couldn't answer. Every lunch invitation came with a side of gossip I didn't want to feed. So, when break time came, I quietly slipped into the fire exit. Third floor. Where the sun hit the chipped cement wall just enough to feel warm, and no one ever bothered me.
This is where it all began — the moment I felt I was falling.
Deeply.
Then I drowned.
Not all at once.
Just a slow, quiet sinking into something I didn't have words for yet.
And maybe that's why I kept coming back to this spot — not for the silence, but for the memory of who I was before the fall.
I pressed my back to the cold railing, sipping from my tumbler, willing my heart to slow. Willing myself to stop remembering how he looked last night under the KTV lights.
And how I sounded — how it felt — to sing that song with him watching me like I was someone he'd never quite forgotten.
I took a deep breath.
Then the door opened.
I didn't have to look.
I felt him. Before he even spoke.
Elián.
Of course.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, but it came out breathless.
He shut the door softly behind him. "I could ask you the same."
I turned away, staring out through the narrow gap in the concrete. Cars moved like miniatures below. Life went on. It always did.
"I come here when I want to be invisible," I murmured.
"You were never invisible," he said.
Silence fell like dust between us.
Then he stepped forward, voice lower. "Mara, I— I keep thinking about that night. About you. And how much I ruined."
I stayed quiet. Still. But my throat was tight.
"I don't know if I deserve to say this," he continued, "but… if there's any chance — even the smallest one — can I try again?"
I closed my eyes.
My heart started that familiar ache — the one that never really left. The one I kept covering with errands and playlists and Jace's easy kindness.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
He stepped closer.
"I dream about you," he whispered. "Still. All the time."
And something in me broke.
I turned around just as he pulled me in, and I let him. My hands pressed against his chest weakly, like I wanted to push him away but forgot how.
And then I was sobbing.
"I don't know how to do this again," I cried into his shirt. "I don't know if I can survive you again."
His arms tightened around me. "I won't hurt you."
But I didn't believe him. Not yet.
Because I'd heard those words before.
And still, I stayed in his arms.
Still, I broke all over again.
After work, the sky was bruised orange and violet, and I just wanted to go home. But as I stepped outside, I saw a familiar figure waiting by the steps.
Jace.
Leaning against the post, hands in his jacket pockets, that soft half-smile ready for me.
"Hey," he said. "Figured you'd need a ride. Or at least a walk."
My heart caught.
But before I could answer, I heard the glass door behind me.
Elián.
He paused at the sight of Jace, eyes darkening. Not surprised — but definitely stirred.
He looked between us.
Jace gave him a polite nod. "Hey, man."
"Didn't know you were back in town," Elián said, voice clipped.
"Just for a bit. Helping out Isla," Jace replied casually, then turned to me. "You ready?"
Elián looked at me then — really looked — and I saw it in his face. The storm behind his eyes. Not just jealousy. Something deeper. Possessive. Wild.
"Mara," he said, "can we talk again later? Tonight?"
I didn't answer.
But he didn't wait.
"I'm not letting you slip away this time," he said quietly. "I'm taking you back."
He walked away before I could respond — as if saying it made it true.
And maybe it did.
Because my legs were shaking.
And my heart was already tangled again.