6
EMILIA
3 weeks later
He was ignoring me.
After weeks of us fucking in secret, hidden from all the people in the office, he had the audacity to ignore me. It wasn’t fair, and it made me upset. I shouldn’t have cared so much. Should’ve known that this was nothing but a game to him. But my heart ached every time he walked past me. Every time he spoke to me with clipped indifference, like he hadn’t once pulled me apart with his mouth, his fingers, his voice saying my name like it meant something. He didn’t look at me anymore. Not the way he did when he was inside of me.
And it was killing me.
Because I should’ve known better. I should’ve known someone like him didn’t fall. Didn’t care. Dean was sharp suits and sharper eyes, ambition in human form. Cold, calculating. I’d heard the rumors before I started working for him. About the way he moved through people—through women—like they were stepping stones.
But I hadn’t wanted to believe I was one of them. I’d thought I was different.
Stupid, stupid girl.
An email appeared in my mailbox at 2:4 PM, and my stupid heart skipped a beat, unaware that his name shouldn’t have affected it so much anymore.
From: Dean Rockwell
Subject: no subject
Meeting. My office. Right now.
No subject. No greeting. No explanation.
I stared at the screen for a full minute before I stood up and walked to his office with my heart hammering in my chest. I didn’t want to see him, but I had to. I couldn’t deny him, especially when it was a work-related matter.
I knocked, then opened the door, but he didn’t even look up when I entered. Just sat at his desk, typing, the picture of calm authority. Like I wasn’t standing there, unraveling.
“You wanted to see me?”
I said, voice tight.
“Close the door,”
he said without looking at me.
I did.
He still didn’t look up. “Sit.”
I stayed standing. “What’s this about?”
Finally, he looked up. Those eyes, the same ones that used to burn through me, were blank now. Businesslike. Maybe even bored.
“I want to go over a few important dates you need to be aware of,”
he said. “And we’re also restructuring the client portfolios and I need you to—”
“No,”
I interrupted. My blood was pumping so fast, I started to feel dizzy. “Stop.”
He blinked. “Excuse me?”
“What did you say?”
“I said stop,”
I repeated. “I need you to look me in the eye and tell me what the hell is going on.”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “What are you talking about, Emilia?”
“Don’t do that,”
I snapped. “Don’t act like you don’t know. You’ve been ignoring me for weeks. Like we didn’t—like nothing happened between us.”
He tilted his head to the side, looking as unbothered as ever. “And you think I’m giving you the time to talk about your feelings?”
I flinched. “I just want to know what changed. Why are you treating me like I’m invisible? Like I was just some temporary distraction you could toss aside.”
His jaw flexed. “Because that’s exactly what you were.”
The words hit like a slap.
“You were a distraction,”
he said again, his voice sharper now, colder. “A good one, sure. But that’s all it ever was, Emilia. Sex. Temporary. You knew the rules. You walked into this with your eyes wide open.”
My stomach dropped, then twisted, then threatened to empty itself. “Don’t do that. You didn’t treat me like a one-night stand. I thought we were—”
“Because I didn’t have to treat you like a one-night stand,”
he cut in. “You were convenient. Smart. Quiet. And I thought you could handle it. I didn’t think you’d get emotional.” His expression turned dismissive. Disgusted.
Tears stung my eyes.
I shook my head, backing away from him, blinking hard. “You’re lying.”
“I’m being honest,”
he snapped. “You were a good fuck. You were fun. But deep down I knew you’d get like this. So…messy. And I don’t do messy, Emilia. Not in the office. Not in my life.”
“You bastard,”
I whispered, eyes burning. “You used me.”
And I betrayed myself for letting it go this far. For letting a man like Dean play the cruelest game. And I only now realized how far this game went.
He laughed, bitter and hollow. “I didn’t use you. You were willing. You knew exactly what you were getting into. Don’t stand there like some heartbroken victim.”
“I fell in love with you,”
I said, my voice breaking. “God, I’m in love with you!”
I was desperate, and it took everything in me not to fall to my knees and start begging him to admit his feelings for me. Because my intuition couldn’t have been that bad. There had to be something there. Something in his heart that was there just for me.
But his face didn’t change. Not even a flicker.
“That’s not my problem.”
I stared at him, unable to move, breath catching in my throat. I wanted to scream. To slap him. To cry. But instead, for once, I did what my head told me to do instead of my heart.
I turned and walked out of his office, closing the door quietly behind me.
And this time, I didn’t look back.
The hallway outside Dean’s office seemed narrower, and it felt suffocating. Luckily, it was only one step to reach my office door, and I walked inside before anyone could see me. My chest was tight with unshed sobs. My eyes stung, but I wouldn’t let them spill here. Not in this building, not where every whisper traveled and every sideways glance became gossip.
As soon as the door closed behind me, I let out a breath so shaky it felt like my lungs were collapsing. I leaned against the wood for a moment, gathering myself, urging my hands to stop trembling. Then, like I was on autopilot, I moved to my desk.
I didn’t think. I just started packing.
There was no plan, no true decision made, no words spoken. Only instinct. I pulled open drawers and reached for the familiar things: the navy cardigan I always wore when the AC was too high, the photo of my parents and me in Tokyo, the “World’s Okayest Assistant”
mug I had gotten myself as a joke after my first week of work.
Each item felt heavier than it should. Like every one of them was tethered to a version of myself that no longer existed. A woman who believed in things. Who trusted her instincts. Who thought she could handle whatever this was with Dean and keep her heart out of it.
The tote bag wasn’t big enough, but I didn’t care. I just needed to be gone.
A soft knock startled me, and for one sickening second I thought please let it be him. Please let this be the part where he comes after me, says it was all a test, a mistake, a stupid wall he didn’t know how to break down. That he did feel something. That I hadn’t imagined it all.
But it wasn’t his voice.
“Emilia?”
Leann.
I scrubbed my face quickly, hoping I hadn’t cried enough for it to show. “Come in.”
The door opened slowly and Leann peeked in, her face concerned. She stepped inside, then closed the door gently behind her.
“I saw you come out of Dean’s office,”
she said carefully. “You looked…not okay.”
I turned away, pretending to shuffle papers on my desk. “I’m fine.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
There was a long pause, the air thick with everything I couldn’t say.
“I’m just not feeling great,”
I finally said. “Headache. Migraine, maybe.”
Her eyes dropped to the tote bag, half full of my things. “You’re packing.”
I didn’t look up. “Just grabbing a few things to work from home.”
Leann stepped closer, her heels quieter than mine ever were. She didn’t say anything for a second. “Did he do something?”
My throat closed.
“Emilia,”
she said gently. “I’m not trying to push. But you’re shaking. And whatever happened in that office…it wasn’t just a work conversation.”
“I can’t talk about it,”
I whispered. I hoped she didn’t put the pieces together. Hoped she didn’t figure out that the issues I told her about were because of Dean.
She hesitated. “Okay. Then don’t. But I don’t want you to lie to me, either.”
I finally looked up at her, and she must’ve seen the break in me, the tiny fracture that was ready to crack wide open at the slightest touch. Her face softened, her brows pulling together.
“I just need to leave for today,”
I said, my voice barely steady. “I need air. Space. Something other than…this.”
Leann nodded slowly. “Okay. I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.”
“Thank you,”
I murmured. I lowered my eyes again. “I really don’t want to talk about…him.”
“You don’t have to. But I’m here, if or when you do.”
There was something about her voice in that moment that made my throat close up. I nodded quickly, because if I opened my mouth, I’d cry. She reached out and touched my arm, just for a second, then stepped back.
“You’re stronger than you think,”
she said with a tight smile before she left.
The door clicked shut behind her, and I stood there in the silence she left behind, her words echoing in my chest.
It was then when I knew that Dean wasn’t going to follow me.
He wouldn’t come down the hallway, wouldn’t knock on my door.
He was done.
And maybe I needed to be done too.
I grabbed the tote, slung it over my shoulder, and walked out without saying another word.
Not to Leann.
Not to Dean.
Not to anyone.
Just silence.
For once, that would have to be enough.