CHAPTER 32
Elena
Two weeks after I returned from Florida, Harley was no longer working at our office. And apparently, that was when Jessica finally had her delayed realization.
We were at our usual café—me, Jessica, and Sloane, the new hire who had taken over Harley’s position. Sloane sat across from us, still in that polite, slightly cautious phase of being new, watching the two of us with quiet curiosity.
Jessica had just finished scrolling through her phone when she suddenly dropped it onto the table with a sharp sigh.
“I still can’t believe it,” she said.
I looked up from my drink. “Believe what?”
She stared at me like I was personally responsible. “Harley.”
Sloane glanced between us. “Is this... about the guy who was here before me?”
“Yes,” Jessica said immediately. “And no offense, but you replaced a menace.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That’s dramatic.”
“No,” she insisted. “Do you know how many lunches I paid for him?”
Sloane blinked. “Uh...”
Jessica leaned forward, counting on her fingers. “Years. Years of me generously saying, ‘It’s on me, don’t worry,’ like I was some kind of philanthropist.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “You’re the one who always insisted.”
“Exactly!” she snapped. “That’s the problem!”
She turned to Sloane. “I thought he was just... normal. Like the rest of us.”
Sloane nodded slowly, clearly confused. “Okay...?”
Jessica shot me a look. “And then—after he resigns—I find out who he actually is?”
I took a sip of my drink, unfazed. “From his last name alone, you really should’ve known.”
Jessica groaned, dropping her head onto the table. “I thought it was just a coincidence!” She lifted her head again, eyes wide with outrage. “Do you know how stupid I feel knowing I was treating him?”
Sloane hesitated. “So… he’s rich?”
Jessica let out a sharp, almost offended laugh. “Rich? Babe, he’s not just rich—he’s ridiculous. He could buy this entire restaurant without blinking.” She scoffed under her breath. “If I had known, I would’ve made him pay for every single thing.”
I smirked. “And yet… you didn’t.”
“Exactly!” she pointed at me. “That man could’ve been funding our lunches for years, Elena.”
“Oh, really?” I smirked.
Jessica slumped back in her chair. “This is betrayal. Financial betrayal.”
Sloane smiled awkwardly. “I feel like I joined at the wrong time.”
“You really did,” Jessica said, sighing. “You missed free lunches, funded by my ignorance.”
I laughed again, shaking my head.
Jessica looked at me, narrowing her eyes. “You knew from the beginning, didn’t you?”
I shrugged. “Of course.”
“You’re evil.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But at least now you know.”
Jessica shook her head, muttering “Unbelievable,” before grabbing her wallet. “Fine. I’m still paying. But I want it on record that I resent it.”
Sloane smiled, clearly entertained.
I leaned back in my chair, watching the empty seats around our table—spaces once filled by strangers and regulars alike. People coming and going. Some just passing through. Others there for the first time. Just like life.
Two weeks earlier
Coming back to the office after a long leave still felt strange.
Part of me was relieved—finally returning to a routine I had known as instinctively as breathing. But there was also a quiet sense of loss I couldn’t quite name—the loss of mornings without demands, without schedules, without roles I had to perform perfectly.
That morning, I sat at my desk with a cup of coffee that had already gone cold, opening an inbox that had piled up while I was gone. Emails. One after another. Task updates. Follow-ups I had postponed. Reminders that arrived far too quickly.
I let out a slow breath.
I had just been on leave. And yet, it already felt like month-end closing was creeping up again. I wasn’t even halfway through my inbox when I noticed Harley standing in front of my desk, a thin folder in his hand. He waited until I looked up.
“Morning,” he said.
“Morning,” I replied. “Have a seat.”
He pulled out a chair and sat down nearby.
“We need to start handing over some of your tasks,” I said, getting straight to the point. “HR’s confirmed the recruitment. But before the new hire comes in, I’ll temporarily take over a few of these reports.”
I shifted my laptop slightly, showing him the list.
“This one,” I continued, pointing, “and this one. You’ll keep handling the rest until the end of the week.”
Harley nodded. “Okay.”
“Any concerns?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. That makes sense.”
I nodded back.
“Then please prepare a brief status summary for each,” I said. “So the handover doesn’t get messy.”
“Got it,” he replied.
He stood to leave, and just before walking away, added, “Welcome back, by the way.”
I gave a small smile. “Thanks.”
Only after he returned to his desk did a thought surface—something that felt... strange.
How quickly it happened.
People could leave, and the system would move on immediately, replacing them without pause. As if someone’s presence could always be reduced to a list of tasks.
Not long after, Jessica appeared, her smile bright as ever. “Lunch later, yeah?” she said to Harley and me.
I raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
She glanced at Harley. “Because someone’s leaving.”
Harley scoffed softly. “You’re being dramatic.”
“So?” she said, looking at me.
I nodded. “Okay.”
— ? —
Before lunch, I reviewed one of Harley’s reports. There was a small section that needed revising, not major, but enough to flag.
“Can you recheck this part?” I said, pointing at his screen. “The numbers are shifted by one row.”
He glanced at it, then nodded. “Got it.”
Afterward, we went to lunch at a small café near the office, a place we’d been to so often the staff didn’t even need to ask for our order.
Midway through the meal, Jessica finally asked, “So, where are you headed?” She glanced at Harley. “Why quit so suddenly?”
Harley smiled faintly and shrugged. “I’ve got something lined up.”
“Come on,” Jessica pressed. “Give us something.”
“Nah,” he said with a grin. “If I tell you now, you might quit too.”
Jessica huffed but laughed.
I smiled quietly, watching them over the rim of my glass.
Then Harley turned to me. “How was Florida?”
“Fun,” I answered.
“Fun how?” he asked.
I laughed softly. “You’re just being nosy.”
He laughed too. “Obviously.”
I paused for a moment before answering. “It was fun. It felt like… going back in time.”
I didn’t say anything more, but I could feel Harley’s gaze linger on me a little longer than before. Not intrusive. Just… observant.
Jessica noticed too.
“I don’t know,” she said, squinting at me. “But somehow you feel different. Lighter.”
I shrugged. “I’ve always been like this.”
Jessica glanced at Harley, then back at me. “Yeah... sure.”
Before I could respond, her phone buzzed against the table. She checked the screen and sighed as she answered, “Yeah? Okay, got it. No problem. We’re almost done anyway. I’ll head back now.”
She hung up and looked at us. “Boss,” she said. “Calling me back in. I’ll head out first.”
She stood, grabbed her wallet. “Don’t talk about me behind my back,” she joked before leaving.
That left just Harley and me, and we finished our meal in silence, the quiet stretching between us. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “The new hire who’ll be under you,” he said, almost too casually, “go easy on them, will you?”
I smiled. “They’ll survive.”
“Barely,” he muttered.
“I just want someone whose reports don’t need ten revisions,” I said.
He chuckled. “Good luck with that.”
I rolled my eyes, then checked my watch. “Let’s head back,” I said.
He nodded and called the waiter, and a moment later, the bill was brought over. I reached for it instinctively. “I’ll get it,” I said.
But Harley took it from my hand. “I’ve got this one.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll pay. You’re the one leaving, remember?” I replied.
“Exactly,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “So this one’s on me. You can get the next one.”
I paused, then met his eyes. “There won’t be a next time, Harley.”
The smile on his face stilled, just for a moment. His gaze lingered on me a second longer, as if weighing something he chose not to say, before he looked away and handed his black card to the waiter.
“Right,” he said quietly.
A few moments later, we stepped out of the café, Harley holding the door open and letting me go first.
We walked along the sidewalk at an even pace—not too fast, not too slow—until I noticed the change, the way his steps began to slow, the way his breath caught for just a second.
“Elena—” he began, then stopped.
I turned to look at him. For a moment, we held each other’s gaze briefly before he looked ahead again, as if weighing something too heavy to say out loud.
I knew what he wanted to say. And maybe he knew that I knew.
I took a quiet breath. “Let’s head back to the office,” I said gently, as if nothing had happened. “There’s still a lot of work to do.”
He looked at me, something unreadable flickering in his eyes, before his mouth curved into a thin, practiced smile.
“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go.”
We walked on side by side, without touching, without looking at each other.
And I was grateful for what we chose not to say.