~Katherine's POV
I finally forced myself to take a deep breath, to straighten my shoulders, and to settle the storm of emotions that had threatened to spill over the moment Aaron stepped through the door. I couldn't let him see me falter. And I certainly couldn't let Mathew, calm and composed as he always was, think I had lost control.
I turned slowly toward Aaron, forcing a professional smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. I could feel every gaze on me: Amanda's polished, calculating look; Mathew's calm, observant one; and, of course, Aaron's, sharp, searching, full of something I could not immediately read. Amanda and Mathew were waiting, silently questioning, asking without words if we knew each other, and if so, how.
I tilted my head slightly and asked, my voice smooth, even though my chest felt tight, "I don't… get you?"
Aaron's lips curved into the barest hint of a smile, and my heart caught at the familiarity of it. "It's been five years," he said softly, almost painfully. His voice carried the weight of hurt I had long buried, and for a second, I felt that old ache return, sharp and unrelenting. That was all he said, and the silence that followed was heavy, thick, and suffocating.
I shook my head, forcing the confusion into my expression. "I… I have no idea what you're saying," I replied carefully, keeping my tone light, almost dismissive, though every nerve in me screamed otherwise. "Would you excuse me?"
Without waiting for an answer, I turned on my heel and walked briskly toward my office. My heels clicked on the floor, each sound like a countdown in my chest. My hands trembled slightly as I opened the door and shut it behind me, locking myself into a bubble of temporary safety.
I sank into my chair and finally allowed myself a moment to breathe. My eyes fell on the laptop and the neatly arranged papers on my desk, but I couldn't focus. Everything blurred as the reality of what had just happened settled over me like ice water. I could not believe my eyes. Aaron Knight, standing outside the company not ten minutes ago, was real. And the thought that I could encounter him at any time, that he was in the same building, perhaps watching me even now, made my chest tighten.
My mind began to wander, unbidden, back to memories I had tried so hard to lock away. The office. Five years ago. I could see it all so clearly. The chaos of the interns' desks. The clatter of keyboards. The faint hum of the air conditioning. And there he was, Aaron, sitting across from me, smiling with that easy confidence that made the world feel smaller, warmer, like somehow we existed only for each other.
I remembered how we would share notes under the radar of our supervisors, how we'd laugh quietly over coffee breaks, our hands brushing against each other accidentally, or not so accidentally, sending sparks through every inch of my skin. The stolen glances, the whispered jokes, the silent support when deadlines threatened to crush us, it had all felt so real, so easy. And in that moment, the office had been our world, even if the outside world was indifferent to us.
Then the memory shifted, darker, heavier. The day I was sent out. The day everything fell apart. I remembered the sting of feeling out of place, the way Aaron's own aunt, Brenda, had looked at me with thinly veiled contempt, her every word slicing deeper than any blade. And then the crushing hurt of realizing Aaron had left too, not just gone, but disappeared entirely. He hadn't even tried to find me, to check on me, to see if the rumors were true or not.
I remembered sitting alone in my tiny apartment that night, heartbroken and exhausted, holding my stomach, feeling both the warmth of life growing inside me and the cold loneliness of a love abandoned. I had wondered endlessly if he had ever cared to look for me.
I couldn't hold it in any longer. My hands trembled, my chest felt heavy, and the tears slipped before I even realized. I tried to swallow them, tried to force the tight lump in my throat to go away, but it was no use.
I whispered, almost to myself, "Seeing him… seeing him married… It's like he didn't care at all. Like I never mattered…"
The sound of my own voice, broken and raw, made me shiver. I pressed my palms against my face, hoping to hide the shame, the pain, the years of heartbreak that had never fully healed. But the tears kept coming, spilling down my cheeks, hot and uncontrollable.
Then the door opened, and Mathew walked in. He stopped immediately when he saw me, taking in my red eyes, the tremor in my shoulders. "Katherine… are you crying?" he asked softly, his voice calm, steady, like he was trying to anchor me.
I quickly wiped my face, trying to force a professional composure. "No… no, I'm fine," I whispered, even though the truth was obvious.
But Mathew didn't look convinced. He moved closer and sat across from me, his presence gentle but firm. "I can tell you're not fine," he said softly, leaning forward. "I noticed the change in your attitude the moment you set your eyes on… Aaron. You know, you don't have to hide it. You can talk to me."
I stayed silent, my lips trembling.
He waited patiently, giving me space, and then he added gently, "It's okay. You can tell me. You can say what's on your mind. I'm listening."
The dam finally broke. I buried my face in my hands and let the sobs come, letting everything pour out. "That is… the man I told you about," I gasped between tears, "it's him… Aaron…!"
Mathew's eyes widened in shock, and he leaned back slightly. "Truly… Aaron?" he whispered.
I nodded, my body shaking as I tried to steady my breathing. "Yes… It's him. And… when I saw his wife… I wasn't surprised. He's moved on. He's married. He didn't even look for me. Not once. It's like I didn't exist."
The memories hit me again, sharper this time, the loneliness, the bullying, the whispered rumors, the nights I almost gave up entirely. I swallowed hard, the tears still streaming. "…I… I almost… almost killed myself," I admitted, my voice breaking.
Without hesitation, Mathew reached over and pulled me into a comforting hug. His arms were warm and steady, holding me as if he could shield me from the weight of the world.
"It's okay," he whispered, his voice soft. I clung to him, finally letting myself lean on someone, letting the grief flow freely. My tears soaked his shirt as I whispered brokenly,
"I thought I'd never see him again."
I pulled back slightly from Mathew's hug, my hands still trembling as I wiped the wet streaks from my cheeks. He gave me a long, steady look, his eyes soft but serious. "Katherine," he said carefully, "we can cancel the contracts if you….if you feel this is too much right now."
"What?" I asked.