The rest of the day passed in a blur of quiet tension. Claire remained engrossed in her work, her focus unyielding, while I tried to push down the growing unease in my chest. Every time I glanced at her, she seemed farther away, her walls higher, her demeanour colder. It was as if the intimacy of the night before and the quiet vulnerability of the morning had never happened.
By the time the clock struck five, the office was empty except for the two of us. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional clatter of keys or the rustle of papers. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Claire,” I said, my voice cutting through the stillness. She didn’t look up, but I saw her fingers pause over the keyboard. “Can we talk?”
For a moment, she didn’t respond. Then, slowly, she leaned back in her chair, her eyes finally meeting mine. There was no warmth there, no trace of the woman who had whispered my name in the dark. Just the cool, composed executive I had always known.
“About what?” she asked, her tone neutral, almost detached.
I hesitated, my heart pounding. “About last night. About this morning. About… us.”
Her expression didn’t change, but I saw the faintest flicker of something in her eyes—uncertainty, maybe, or regret. She looked away, her gaze settling on the window behind me, where the city lights were beginning to flicker to life.
“There is no ‘us,’” she said finally, her voice quiet but firm. “Last night was… a mistake.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I had expected her to deflect, to avoid the conversation, but I hadn’t expected this. Not the bluntness, not the finality.
“A mistake?” I repeated, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “You said you didn’t regret it.”
“I don’t,” she said quickly, her eyes snapping back to mine. “But that doesn’t mean it was the right thing to do. I was drunk, and I let my emotions get the better of me. It won’t happen again.”
I stared at her, searching for any sign of the woman who had held me so tightly, who had whispered that she didn’t want to feel empty. But she was gone, replaced by this guarded, distant version of Claire.
“So that’s it?” I asked, my voice rising slightly. “You’re just going to pretend it never happened?”
“Yes,” she said simply, her tone leaving no room for argument. “It’s for the best.”
“For who?” I shot back, my frustration bubbling over. “For you? Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it’s for the best for me.”
Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought she might say something—anything—to explain, to soften the blow. But instead, she stood, gathering her things with practiced efficiency.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice clipped. “But this is how it has to be.”
And with that, she walked out of the office, leaving me standing there, my chest aching and my mind racing.
The sound of the door clicking shut echoed through the empty office, final and unyielding. I let out a shaky breath, my hands gripping the edge of my desk as I tried to steady myself. My heart pounded against my ribs, each beat a sharp reminder of the moment I had just lost.
I wanted to run after her, to demand answers she clearly wasn’t willing to give. But what would be the point? Claire had made her choice, drawn her line in the sand, and I was left standing on the other side, staring at the space she had vacated.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forced myself to gather my things. The office felt unbearably cold now, like all the warmth had left with her. My fingers trembled slightly as I slung my bag over my shoulder and shut down my computer. With each movement, the weight in my chest grew heavier, settling like an anchor in my ribs.
By the time I stepped outside, the sky had darkened, the city illuminated by the glow of streetlights and neon signs. The evening air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain on the horizon. I hesitated on the sidewalk, my mind still replaying the way Claire’s eyes had turned to steel, the way she had so effortlessly severed whatever fragile thing had existed between us.
A part of me wanted to believe she was lying, that this wasn’t just another closed chapter but a pause, a hesitation in something unfinished. But the rational part of me—the part that had spent years learning how to guard my heart—knew better.
I pulled my phone from my pocket, my fingers hovering over Irene’s name. I needed someone to talk to, someone who wouldn’t tell me to move on but would let me sit in this feeling, if only for a while. With a deep breath, I pressed the call button.
“Mae?” Irene’s voice came through almost immediately, warm and familiar. “Hey, what’s up?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but for a moment, no words came out. Then, finally, I exhaled and said, “Do you have time for a drink? Something fresh, not coffee.”
She hesitated, but only for a second. “Of course. Usual spot?”
“Yeah,” I murmured, already turning in the direction of the café we always went to. “See you soon.”
As I walked through the bustling streets, I tried not to think about Claire. I tried not to think about the way her lips had felt against mine, the way she had looked at me that morning, like I meant something more than a fleeting moment.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had just lost something important, something I wasn’t ready to let go of.
.
.
.
The café was warm, the scent of fresh pastries and coffee lingering in the air. Irene was already at our usual table, stirring her drink absentmindedly as she glanced out the window. When she saw me approaching, her eyes lit up for a second before narrowing in concern.
“You look like you haven’t slept in days,” she said as I sat down.
“Feels like it.” I sighed, wrapping my hands around the cool glass she pushed toward me. “Thanks for coming.”
“You’re starting to worry me,” she admitted. “What’s going on, Mae?”
I hesitated, my fingers tightening around my drink. My heart thudded against my ribs, loud enough that I was sure she could hear it. I hadn’t planned on saying anything—at least not yet. But the weight of keeping it all in was suffocating.
I took a deep breath. “Irene… there’s something I haven’t told you.”
Her brows furrowed, but she nodded. “Okay. I’m listening.”
I swallowed, feeling my throat go dry. “I’m gay.” The words felt heavy and light at the same time, like I’d finally exhaled after holding my breath for too long. “I mean, I’ve known for a while, but I never told you.”
For a moment, Irene just stared at me. Then, to my surprise, she let out a soft laugh. “Mae, I kind of figured.”
I blinked. “Wait… what?”
She grinned, sipping her drink. “I mean, the way you looked at Kaia in university wasn’t exactly subtle.”
My stomach twisted at the mention of her name. I lowered my gaze to my drink, running a finger along the rim. “It wasn’t just looking.”
Irene’s expression shifted, more serious now. “Oh.”
“We… we had something,” I admitted. “For a while, I thought it was real. But then—” My voice caught for a second. “She got married.”
Irene inhaled sharply. “Mae…”
“The night before her wedding,” I added quietly, almost to myself. “That’s when it happened.”
She didn’t say anything at first. Just sat there, absorbing my words. Finally, she sighed, rubbing her temple. “That’s… a lot.”
“Yeah.” I forced a small laugh. “Tell me about it.”
She shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Maybe because saying it out loud makes it feel even more messed up than it already is.”
Irene frowned. “You were in love with her, weren’t you?”
I swallowed hard but didn’t answer.
She sighed again and reached across the table, squeezing my hand. “You don’t have to go through this alone, okay?”
I nodded, the tightness in my chest easing just a little. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe.
Irene squeezed my hand again, her brows knitting together. “So… that’s what you were worried about? That’s why you wanted to meet up?”
I shook my head. “No.” I exhaled slowly, staring at the condensation on my glass. “Kaia and I… that relationship was long gone. I moved on. Starting from the day I started working at Summit River Corp.” I looked up at her. “That’s when I met Finn again.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh my God. What the hell? Is everything okay?”
“No.” The word came out flat, drained. “He tried to get me again, Irene.” I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to keep going. “Actually… I don’t even want to remember. But he played me when I was drunk, and we had… ‘things.’” My stomach twisted. “Not my consent.”
Irene’s face fell, her grip on my hand tightening. She looked like she wanted to say something, but before she could, I continued.
“Then Claire…”
She stiffened, her shock clear, but she kept herself calm. “What about Claire?”
I swallowed, my voice barely above a whisper. “Claire helped me. With everything. She got me out of that mess. And now… now I’m stuck with her.”
Irene’s expression darkened. “Mae, what do you mean by ‘stuck’?”
I let out a bitter laugh. “We had sex last night.”
Irene sucked in a breath, her fingers tightening around her glass.
“She was drunk,” I added quickly. “And I… I don’t know how to explain it, Irene. So many things have happened within a year, I can’t even keep up.” I let out a shaky exhale. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”
For a moment, Irene just stared at me, processing everything. Then she ran a hand through her hair and exhaled sharply. “Jesus, Mae.”
I shrugged, exhaustion weighing down my shoulders. “Yeah.”
She leaned forward. “Okay. First, Finn—what he did to you—wasn’t okay. You know that, right?”
I nodded, gripping my glass harder. “I know.”
“And Claire…” She hesitated. “Do you think she cares about you?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Did she? Or was I just convenient?
Irene sighed. “Mae, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but I do know one thing—you need to stop running on autopilot and figure out what you actually want.”
Irene let out a slow breath, her grip tightening around her glass. “Mae… you know that’s crossing the line, right?”
I nodded, staring down at the table. “She’s the Co-CEO, Irene. And she’s married.” My voice wavered. “I’m so fucking stupid for doing that.”
She stayed quiet, waiting.
“But she was begging me,” I admitted, my hands clenching into fists. “I tried to stop, I really did, but she wouldn’t let go. And I—” My throat tightened. “I wanted her.”
Irene ran a hand through her hair. “God, Mae.”
“I know.” My laugh was dry, hollow. “And now, this morning, I tried to talk to her. Tried to make sense of what happened.” I looked up at her, my chest twisting painfully. “She said she doesn’t regret it.”
Irene blinked. “Wait. Then—”
“But she also said it was a mistake.” My voice cracked, frustration boiling over. “What the hell does that even mean?”
Irene’s expression darkened. “It means she’s trying to have it both ways.”
I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “Yeah, well, congratulations to her. She succeeded.”
For a moment, we just sat there, the silence stretching between us.
Finally, Irene spoke, her voice softer this time. “Mae, you need to be careful with this. Claire’s not just anyone. If things go wrong—”
“They’re already wrong,” I muttered.
She exhaled. “Then what are you going to do?”
I stared at my untouched drink, my mind a mess.
“I don’t know.”
Irene leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temple. “Mae, you can’t just let this spiral. You need to figure out what you want.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s the problem. I don’t know what I want.” I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. “I mean, I know what I should do. I should set boundaries. I should remind myself that she’s married, that she’s my boss, that this—” I gestured vaguely. “—this shouldn’t be happening.”
“But?” Irene prompted, watching me carefully.
“But when I’m with her, none of that seems to matter,” I admitted, my voice raw. “It’s like she pulls me into her world, and I lose track of everything else.”
Irene sighed. “And now she’s sending you mixed signals.”
I scoffed. “Understatement of the year.”
She studied me for a moment before speaking. “Mae… do you love her?”
The question hit me harder than I expected. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Did I? I knew I wanted her. I knew that when she touched me, I felt alive in a way I hadn’t in a long time. But love?
Irene must’ve seen the conflict in my expression because she leaned forward. “You don’t have to answer that now. But if you keep going like this without knowing, you’re going to get hurt.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Too late for that.”
She gave me a sad smile. “Then maybe it’s time to decide how much more hurt you’re willing to take.”
I looked away, out the window, watching the rain slide down the glass in uneven patterns. Irene was right.
Suddenly Irene’s eyes widened, flicking to something—or rather, someone—behind me.
A familiar voice, low and even, broke the tense air.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
I turned my head slowly, my stomach twisting into knots. Claire stood there, arms crossed, her expression unreadable—but there was something sharp in her gaze.
“Did you just leave the office without switching off the lights and air conditioning?” she asked, like she hadn’t just caught me mid-confession about her.
Irene looked between us, completely blindsided. I, on the other hand, felt like my soul had just left my body.
Claire’s eyes flicked to Irene. “And you are?”
Irene blinked, still catching up. “Uh—Irene.” She straightened in her seat. “Mae’s best friend.”
Claire nodded slightly before shifting her attention back to me. “Well?”
I forced myself to swallow past the sudden dryness in my throat. “I… I guess I forgot.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You guess?”
Irene cleared her throat. “I’m sorry—who are you again?”
Claire glanced at her but didn’t answer right away. Instead, she pulled out the chair next to me and sat down like she belonged there. Like this wasn’t the most awkward moment of my life.
“Claire,” she finally said. “Mae’s boss.”
Irene’s eyebrows shot up. Oh.
I could practically see the gears turning in her head, connecting the dots in real time.
Claire’s eyes were still locked on me, expectant.
Irene, to her credit, recovered quickly. She leaned back, crossing her arms. “So… you’re the one she’s been talking about.”
Claire’s expression didn’t change, but I caught the subtle tension in her shoulders.
“What exactly has Mae been saying?”
Irene smirked. “Oh, you know. Things.”
I shot her a please shut up look, but she ignored me completely.
Claire tilted her head slightly, assessing Irene, then turned back to me. “We should go.”
I blinked. “Wait—what?”
“You left in a rush.” Her voice was even, but I could tell she was not pleased. “And now I know why.”
Irene raised an eyebrow, looking between us like she was watching a drama unfold in real time. “You know, I am very curious why my best friend left work in such a rush.”
Claire ignored her and stood up, straightening her blazer. “Let’s go, Mae.”
I should’ve said no. I should’ve stayed. But the way she looked at me—firm, unreadable, expecting—made my body move before my brain could catch up.
I stood, casting Irene a helpless look.
Irene gave me one right back.
“This isn’t over,” she mouthed.
I sighed, grabbing my drink before following Claire out of the café.
As soon as we stepped outside, she turned to me, arms still crossed. “We need to talk.”