Khloe's POV
Early the next morning, I got ready for work—but everything felt just a little… different.
Not in a dramatic, life-altering kind of way. More like something had quietly shifted overnight, settling into my chest without asking permission.
I woke up earlier than usual, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds before finally pushing the covers off. My mind was already awake—too awake—replaying moments I didn't want to revisit but couldn't quite let go of.
Last night.
The messages.
The pauses.
The things we said—and the things we didn't.
"Don't get me out then.
Not now. Not ever".
I exhaled slowly and forced myself out of bed.
A shower helped. The warm water hitting my skin, the quiet hum of routine—it grounded me, even if only a little. I brushed my teeth, got dressed, and stood in front of the mirror longer than necessary.
"You're fine," I muttered to my reflection.
But my mind betrayed me anyway—
"That's my new safe haven".
I blinked, forcing the thought away.
"I said you're fine," I repeated, firmer this time.
I didn't entirely believe it, but it was enough to get me moving.
By the time I made my way downstairs, something surprising hit me—I was actually in the mood for breakfast. That alone should've been a sign that today wasn't going to be entirely normal.
I found Mom in the kitchen, moving around like she always did in the mornings—calm, steady, like the world outside didn't exist.
"Good morning, Mom," I greeted, leaning against the doorway.
She turned almost immediately, her face softening into a smile. "Good morning, sweetie. How's it going?"
I hesitated.
It wasn't like me to hesitate with her. But there was something about saying things out loud that made them feel… real.
"I decided to take the apartment offer," I finally said.
Her reaction was instant. Her entire face lit up, pride shining in her eyes. "That's a good decision, Khloe. I'm proud of you."
I let out a small breath, some of the tension in my chest easing. "Yeah… after being so indecisive."
After overthinking every word he said.
She laughed softly, the sound warm and familiar. "Better late than never."
I smiled faintly, stepping forward to kiss her cheek. "I have to get going."
"Have a good day," she called after me.
"I'll try," I replied, half under my breath.
Outside, the air felt crisp, grounding in a way I needed.
Jayden—my driver—was already waiting by the car, as punctual as ever.
"Good morning," I said, offering him a small smile. "Nice seeing you."
"Good morning, Miss Khloe. The pleasure is mine," he replied smoothly. "Ready for today?"
I paused for a second before answering, "As ready as I'll ever be."
It wasn't exactly confidence, but it wasn't a lie either.
The drive to the office was quiet. Too quiet.
Normally, I'd scroll through my phone or review notes for the day, but today I just stared out the window, watching the city pass by in a blur.
And, despite my best efforts…
My thoughts drifted back to him.
To Xavier.
To the way the conversation unfolded.
How easily it could have stopped—
and how neither of us let it.
I don't want to get you out of my head…
I shut my eyes briefly.
"Don't start," I whispered to myself.
But it was already too late.
By the time we pulled up at the office, I had managed to build a fragile kind of composure—the kind that looked convincing on the outside but could crack at any second.
I stepped out of the car, smoothing down my outfit before heading inside.
"Good morning, Miss Khloe," Clara greeted from the front desk, her usual cheerful self.
"Morning, Clara," I replied, offering a polite smile.
I walked toward my office, heels clicking softly against the floor, each step steady and controlled.
Work.
That was what I needed.
Something structured. Predictable. Safe.
I sat down, opened my laptop, and dove into emails, reports, anything that would keep my mind occupied.
And for a while… it worked.
Until—
His name.
Xavier.
My fingers froze over the keyboard.
A sigh escaped me before I could stop it.
"This is ridiculous," I muttered, rubbing my temple.
But the tension from earlier hadn't gone away—it had only settled deeper, quieter, waiting.
And eventually…
I found myself standing outside his office door.
I didn't remember deciding to come here.
My hand hovered over the door for a second.
Then I knocked.
A pause.
Then—
"Come in."
His voice.
And just like that, everything from last night rushed back—not loud, not overwhelming… just present.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
And there he was.
Exactly where he always was. Behind his desk. Composed. Controlled.
But his eyes—
The moment they met mine, something shifted.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
We just stared.
And it wasn't casual. It wasn't friendly.
It was heavy.
Charged.
Like every message from last night was still sitting between us, unread but understood.
My breath hitched slightly, and I hated that he might've noticed.
He was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat as he straightened slightly.
"Morning."
"Morning," I replied, forcing my voice to match his calm tone.
We both knew we were pretending.
And somehow, that made it worse.
I stepped forward, clinging to the only thing that felt safe—work.
"I came to discuss the Johnson file," I said.
"Right," he nodded, but his gaze lingered on me a second too long.
I felt it.
That look.
Not just attention—
Recognition.
You'd be there… and I'll be right there too.
I moved closer, placing the file on his desk.
"We need to finalize the numbers before the end of the week."
"Mm," he responded.
But he wasn't looking at the file.
He was looking at me.
And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't ignore it.
We talked.
Or at least… we tried to.
The conversation kept drifting. Losing shape. Like neither of us could fully commit to pretending nothing had changed.
Because something had.
At some point, I looked up—and caught him already watching me.
Not casually.
Intensely.
"Is there something on my face?" I asked, attempting lightness.
His lips twitched slightly. "No."
Silence.
Then—
"About last night—"
My stomach dropped.
No.
Not here.
Not like this.
Before he could finish, I cut in quickly, flipping a page.
"So, the deadline for the proposal…"
A pause.
Then I heard it—
A quiet exhale.
He knew what I was doing.
Of course he did.
When I looked up again, his expression had shifted—not frustrated… just understanding.
And that made it harder.
"End of the week works," he said.
Just like that.
Back to the act.
Two professionals.
Pretending.
But the tension didn't disappear—it settled deeper, sharper.
And then—
"Dinner," he said.
I blinked. "What?"
"I was thinking… maybe we could have dinner tonight."
Not casual.
Not careless.
Intentional.
My mind raced.
Say no.
Keep it simple.
Keep it safe.
But—
Then don't get me out then.
I swallowed softly.
"Okay."
His expression shifted, just slightly.
A small, real smile.
"Good."
"I'll see you then."
I nodded. "Yeah… I'll see you."
I turned to leave—but paused at the door.
I didn't know why.
Maybe I just needed one more second.
I glanced back.
He was still watching me.
And this time—
Neither of us pretended.
"I'll see you," I repeated, softer.
"Yeah," he said quietly.
Then I walked out.
And as the door closed behind me, one thought settled clearly in my mind—
Last night wasn't just a conversation.
It changed something.
And tonight—
Dinner.
Was where we'd find out exactly how much.