The city felt quieter that evening, though nothing about it had actually changed.
Maybe it was just Elina.
She stood outside a small café tucked into a calm corner of the street, her phone still in her hand as she reread Clara's message.
Dinner? Just us... It's been too long.
Just us.
The words lingered longer than they should have.
Inside, the café was warm and softly lit, the kind of place where conversations stayed low and time didn't rush. It reminded her of a life she used to have—simpler, lighter, untouched by the kind of thoughts that had been following her lately.
"Elina."
Clara's voice carried easily across the room.
She looked up and there she was, seated by the window, composed as always but relaxed in a way she never allowed at work. There was something effortlessly beautiful about her, something that didn't try too hard and didn't need to.
For a moment, it felt like nothing had changed.
"You look the same," Clara said with a small smile as Elina sat down.
"And you look like you've upgraded your entire life," Elina replied, a hint of teasing in her tone.
Clara laughed softly. "Maybe I have."
They ordered food. Talked. Slipped back into old rhythms.
They spoke about the kindergarten, the children, the chaos that used to fill their days. Clara reminded her of little things she had almost forgotten—the stubborn boy who refused to nap, the girl who cried unless Elina held her hand.
"You were always so patient," Clara said, watching her.
Elina shrugged lightly. "I had to be."
But slowly, almost without warning, the conversation shifted.
It always does.
"You've changed," Clara said after a while, her gaze lingering a little longer than before.
Elina glanced up. "Have I?"
Clara nodded, studying her in that quiet, observant way of hers. "You're… more guarded."
Elina looked down at her drink, tracing the rim of the glass with her finger. "Work does that, I guess."
Clara didn't look convinced.
"Or maybe it's not work."
The air between them changed, subtle but noticeable.
And then, like it had been waiting to be said all along—
"Belonia isn't easy to work with."
Elina let out a soft breath, almost a quiet laugh. "That's one way to put it."
Clara's lips curved slightly. "You don't like him?"
The question came too easily. Too directly.
Elina hesitated, just for a second too long.
"I think…" she paused, choosing her words carefully, "he's complicated."
Clara leaned back, her expression unreadable but intrigued. "Complicated can be interesting."
Something about the way she said it sat wrong with Elina, though she couldn't explain why.
Later that night, the office felt like a completely different place.
Quieter. Dimmer. Almost intimate in a way it never was during the day.
Elina hadn't planned to stay late, but she needed the distraction. Needed something to keep her mind from replaying things she didn't fully understand yet.
She was in the archive room, flipping through files, the soft rustle of paper the only sound around her.
Or so she thought.
"You're still here."
She froze for a second before turning.
Belonia stood at the doorway, sleeves slightly rolled up, tie loosened just enough to make him look less controlled than usual. Less distant.
It didn't help.
If anything, it made it worse.
"I could say the same," she replied, her voice steadier than she felt.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a quiet click that seemed louder than it should have.
The space instantly felt smaller.
"I don't like unfinished work," he said.
Elina nodded, turning back to the files. "Neither do I."
Silence followed, but it wasn't empty.
It pressed in.
She became aware of everything all at once—the sound of his steps behind her, the faint scent of his cologne, the way the air shifted when he moved closer.
Too close.
"Elina."
Her name sounded different from him. Lower. Slower. Like he was thinking about it as he said it.
She turned.
And suddenly he was right there.
Not touching her.
But close enough that it felt like he was.
"What?" she asked quietly.
For a moment, he didn't answer.
His gaze dropped, just slightly.
To her lips.
The silence stretched, thick with something neither of them said out loud.
Elina felt her heartbeat pick up, sharp and sudden, her breath catching in a way she couldn't control.
This wasn't right.
It shouldn't feel like this.
Not here.
Not with him.
Not when—
She stepped back instinctively, but her back met the shelf behind her.
No space left.
His hand came up, resting against the shelf beside her, not touching her but close enough that she felt it anyway.
Felt him.
"Elina…"
This time, her name wasn't just a call. It felt like a warning. Or maybe a question he didn't know how to ask.
"You should go," she said softly.
But the words didn't carry the weight they were supposed to.
His jaw tightened, his gaze flickering between her eyes and her lips again, like he was caught between decisions he didn't want to make.
And for a second—just one—
It felt like he might close the distance.
Like he might forget everything else.
But he didn't.
He stepped back.
And just like that, the moment broke.
The air shifted, cooling instantly, everything snapping back into place like it had never happened.
"Finish your work," he said, his voice sharp again, controlled.
Like before.
Then he turned and walked out without another word.
Elina stayed where she was, her chest rising and falling unevenly, her fingers gripping the edge of the shelf.
She pressed a hand lightly against her chest, trying to steady herself.
What was that?
Across the city, Clara stood by her window, her phone in her hand.
She stared at Belonia's name on the screen for a moment, her lips curving slowly into a knowing smile.
"Interesting…" she murmured.