Chapter 1
Lily
My organization and routine are everything to me.
To be happy, I need to control every step I take.
I don’t like surprises, and I definitely don’t believe in leaving things to chance.
Every decision I make, big or small, is carefully selected after much thought.
I always check all my options, consider all the possible outcomes, and plan for contingencies.
Every aspect of my life, from my job to my apartment setup, is exactly how I want it because I’ve made it that way.
All this, if external factors do not interrupt my perfectly orderly routine. Something I try to avoid as much as possible, but life can't be that perfect.
"Did you see the hottie human resources hired for the systems engineer position?
" Marlin's voice cut through my concentration, her perfectly manicured nails tapping excitedly against the corner of my desk.
I glanced up from my laptop, momentarily annoyed at the interruption, and saw Marlin and Claudette looking at me like they had discovered a new treasure.
Despite working in a shared area, my desk is a little farther away from everyone else's, something I explicitly requested when I arrived to avoid unnecessary conversations between colleagues in moments when I need maximum concentration.
Still, my friends always found an excuse to stand before my desk and make me lose my time.
"Not really," I responded honestly. "I was too focused on next month's budget document the whole week to even stand up from this desk. You know how I get in the final days of the month."
It wasn't entirely a lie.
The end of the month is the most tedious and stressful part of my job.
Working in the accounting department means coordinating all the money spent that month and all the money that will be spent the following month.
My job requires intense concentration, and I'm the best at what I do because I always focus hard enough to make it happen, even if it makes the outside world disappear completely.
But of course, I didn't care much about who the new tech employee would be.
"You can go back to your spreadsheets in a second," Claudette said, leaning closer so she could whisper her next thought. "But seriously, he looks like the hot guy from that firefighter calendar I gave you last year."
I arched a brow. "That calendar was a joke."
"Maybe. But your face wasn’t when you saw July."
I sighed. "I haven’t even stood up from my chair to get some water today, let alone scoped out new hires."
Claudette rolled her eyes dramatically, tucking a strand of her curly hair behind her ear. "I've always told you to take breaks between your tasks, or you'll go crazy. You already look like a robot."
I forced a small smile, the kind that didn't quite reach my eyes but was enough to keep the conversation friendly.
Marlin and Claudette were the only people who could handle my controlling personality.
They knew when to push me out of my comfort zone and when to leave me alone.
In the four years since we'd met, they'd somehow learned to navigate my rigid boundaries and still managed to stay in my life.
I didn't have many friends by choice. The people who were in my life could be counted on one hand.
Relationships were messy, unpredictable variables in an otherwise orderly life.
I preferred one-night stands or brief entanglements with people I knew wouldn't stick around.
The moment I sensed someone developing real feelings, I'd vanish like morning fog.
It was easier that way, cleaner, with fewer loose ends to tie up.
And it would probably be like that until I could get out of this city for good and never turn back.
But because those girls were the only people who truly understood me and had stuck with me through my worst moments of control freakiness, I decided to pay attention to the gossip, just this once. I tucked my budget documents aside and leaned forward, pretending to care about our newest colleague.
"Fine," I leaned my seat back to get a better look at them. "Describe Mr. July."
Marlin's eyes lit up like she wasn't expecting my sudden interest. "I have something better for you. Why don't we stalk his social media?" She pulled out her phone, swiping quickly to reveal a profile that she'd clearly already visited multiple times.
"You already found him? How?" I raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed by her efficiency in things that didn't involve her work. Sometimes, I seemed to be the only person interested in making things work at this company.
She flashed me a grin that was equal parts mischievous and proud. "Never underestimate a girl on a mission to meet a hot man."
The phone slid across the table toward me, and my eyes fell on a profile picture of a man I knew so well, or at least I used to. For a brief moment, something flickered in my chest. I could feel my lungs stop taking in air, and my hands started sweating instantly.
I was seeing his face. His beautiful and perfect face. A face I haven't seen in person in over a decade, but one I'd recognize even among thousands of people.
"Motherfucker," I said, too loud for my taste. Claudette and Marlin looked at each other and then at me, unable to believe I had lost my composure.
"Do you know him?" Marlin asked, eager to know what was happening in my mind.
After a long pause in which I tried to catch my breath, I finally answered. "He is my ex."
The words hung in the air like a bomb that had just been dropped. My perfectly controlled world suddenly felt like it was spinning off its axis.
Kyle Bennett. Here. In my office. In my safe space.
"Wait, what?" Claudette's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "The systems engineer hottie is your ex?"
No one I knew as an adult knew about my past. I'd buried it so well that sometimes it seemed nonexistent. But there it was, reminding me that no matter how hard I tried, what had happened couldn't be erased.
I nodded, unable to speak as memories flooded back. Memories I had filed away in the darkest corners of my mind, categorized under "Never Open Again."
"I thought he moved to Sydney," I finally managed, my voice sounding distant even to my own ears.
Marlin snatched her phone back, scrolling through his profile. "Apparently not anymore. His profile says he just moved back to town last month." She looked up at me, her excitement now mixed with concern. "How long ago did you two...?"
"Ten years," I answered mechanically. "I haven't seen him since I was eighteen. I was with him in school."
Claudette reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
In a way, I had. Kyle was a remnant of a life I'd carefully excised, a life where I'd let someone see beyond my walls, where I'd foolishly believed that love could fit into my meticulously planned existence.
"I'm fine," I lied, pulling my hand away and straightening my posture. Control. I needed to regain control. "It was a long time ago. Ancient history."
"Ancient history is about to be your new coworker," Marlin pointed out unhelpfully.
My mind raced, calculating the probability of our paths crossing in a company of over two hundred employees. The accounting department rarely interacted with the systems engineering team. They were even on a different floor than ours. I could avoid him. I would avoid him.
"It doesn't matter," I said, more to myself than to them. "This changes nothing about my routine or my plans."
Both of my friends exchanged a look I knew too well.
The "Lily's going into lockdown mode" look.
I knew they wouldn't believe I was fine.
Especially given the way I reacted when I saw my ex's photo on her phone.
We spent enough time together for them to know every little change in me.
But I had to find a way to make it clear to the world that his return didn't affect me.
"Of course it doesn't," Claudette said soothingly. "But maybe we should do an emergency girls' night tonight instead of waiting for Saturday? You know, to process?"
"There's nothing to process," I insisted, turning my gaze to the laptop. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to my budget reports."
The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of my typing, deliberately loud and fast, to signal that the conversation was over.
But inside, a storm was brewing. The careful structure of my days, the peace I'd built around myself, all of it felt threatened by his mere presence in the building.
Kyle Bennett. The one variable I'd never been able to control. And now he was back.
The rest of my day was ruined. I couldn't focus on my work anymore, and I couldn't make any progress on any of the things I'd planned to finish that afternoon.
Luckily, it was Friday, so as soon as 5:00 PM struck, I practically ran home. Unlike any other Friday, this one, I didn't feel like going anywhere. I just wanted to be locked in my room and think about how I could change my situation.
Quitting wasn't an option. I'd worked really hard to get where I was, and I felt completely comfortable with the company. Talking badly about him in the human resources department or to the bosses didn't seem like a good idea, either. I had no proof that he was a bad person.
So there were only two options left: face him or ignore him.
I poured myself a glass of red wine and settled onto my pristine white couch. The living room of my apartment was like everything else in my life: minimalist, organized, and carefully curated. There was no chaos, no unnecessary decorations, just clean and neutral colors that calmed my mind.
Tonight, though, nothing could calm the storm in my head.
Just ignore him.
That was the sensible choice. Large companies meant you could go years without meaningfully interacting with people from different departments.
I could request that any accounting system issues be handled by someone else.
I could eat lunch at different times, use different elevators, and take alternate routes through the building.
But how long would it take until we accidentally crashed into each other?
My phone buzzed on the coffee table.
Claudette: Are you sure you don't want company tonight? We're worried about you.
Another buzz.
Marlin: I just did some more digging. He's single.
Janice from Human Resources told me he was the one who contacted them directly.
This wasn't some random application. For some reason, he wanted to work at Waldos.
His LinkedIn profile says he's very good at what he does, which is why our company accepted all his requests without hesitation.
Great. So he wasn't just passing through. This wasn't temporary. He decided to be employed explicitly by our firm. So there was a chance I couldn't ignore him at all.
But why? Did he know I worked there? Was this a calculated move to be close to me?
I tried to push that thought out of my head immediately. It's been ten years. He couldn't be so crazy as to change his entire life from one moment to the next for a person he hadn't seen in so long. But the possibility was there. And if that were the case, I would have to face him.
I typed back to my friends: I'm fine. Just need some time to think. We'll talk tomorrow.
I set my phone to Do Not Disturb and took another sip of wine.
Face him.
The thought made my stomach clench. What would I even say?
"Hello, fancy seeing you here after you helped my family fall apart completely.
" Or maybe the casual approach: "Oh, hi, how have you been since everything that happened in high school?
I still have post-traumatic stress disorder that no psychologist has been able to fix.
I haven't had a single moment of peace."
Neither option felt right. Neither option gave me back the control I desperately needed.
I got up and started pacing, something else I rarely did. My routine was falling apart at the seams, and it had only been a few hours since I'd seen his face on that screen.
Why did he have to come back? Why work in my company, of all places?
I stopped in front of the small shelf in my living room, the one place in my apartment that didn't follow my strict organizational system. A few souvenirs sat there, things I couldn't bring myself to throw away despite their disorderly presence in my life.
My fingers hovered over a small seashell we'd found on a beach years ago before everything fell apart. I'd kept it despite everything. Despite promising myself that I'd purge all remnants of that life forever.
Why had I kept this?
I grabbed the shell and dropped it into the trash can. Then I walked to my desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper.
At the top, I wrote: PLAN FOR DEALING WITH KYLE BENNETT.
Because that's what I did, I made plans. I created systems. I controlled what I could control.
And on Monday morning, I would walk into that office with my head held high, my emotions safely locked away, and a strategy to ensure that he remained exactly what he should be: part of my past, not my present.
I just hoped it would be enough.