From that moment on, Adrian kept his distance. He didn't linger near her desk. He didn't chat casually. He didn't ask unnecessary questions. He didn't look at her longer than polite necessity required.
He treated her exactly as he treated every other employee.
And with each passing day, the invisible space between them grew larger.
Elara should have been relieved. This was what she wanted, a clean, professional boundary. No closeness. No dangerous drift toward the truth. No more moments when her own heart betrayed her.
Yet something tightened inside her anyway, a slow, persistent ache she couldn't shake.
Maybe he was done playing this guessing game.
Maybe he no longer cared enough to look for answers.
And wasn't that what she wanted?
So why did it hurt?
Why did every morning feel a little colder when he walked past her without slowing?
Why did her chest constrict when she heard his voice but knew it wasn't meant for her?
Why did sleep slip further from her each night, her thoughts drifting toward him the moment she lay still?
She didn't know anymore. She only knew it ached.
*****
At lunch, Elara sat alone with her tray, poking at her food without appetite. Her thoughts had drifted again back to Adrian, to the way he had looked at her that night, to his voice breaking when he asked why she felt familiar.
"Elara?"
She looked up quickly. Eric stood beside her, smiling warmly.
"Can I join you?"
"Of course," she said, forcing a small smile.
He sat down and studied her face for a moment. "You seem tired today. Something is bothering you?"
"I'm fine," she said gently.
Eric didn't believe her. After a beat, he brightened and pulled out his phone. "Look at this. Funniest thing I've seen all week."
He played a ridiculous video: a kitten trying to jump onto a couch and missing spectacularly, landing on a pillow instead. Despite herself, Elara laughed—a soft, genuine laugh she hadn't managed in days.
"See?" Eric grinned. "That's better."
At the exact moment she laughed, Adrian passed by the cafeteria entrance.
He stopped mid-step.
His eyes shifted toward the table, toward her, toward Eric leaning in close, toward the smile she hadn't shown him in weeks.
His expression hardened. He then noticed that he had yet to see Elara laughing, not once.
Without a word, he turned and walked away.
A moment later, Eric cleared his throat. "Elara… how about dinner tonight? To repay me for making you laugh."
She blinked. "Dinner?"
"Yes. Nothing formal. Just two coworkers grabbing a meal. I promise I won't show you more cat videos."
She hesitated.
"…All right."
Eric brightened. "Great. I'll text you the details."
*****
After lunch, Elara returned to her work. Adrian remained in his office, door half-open, face unreadable as he reviewed documents.
But the moment she passed his doorway, he looked up.
"Elara."
She stopped. "Yes, Mr. Vale?"
"Come in."
His tone was clipped. Controlled. Too controlled.
She stepped inside slowly.
Adrian waited until she stood before his desk. His gaze was steady, distant, carefully arranged.
"I will speak plainly," he said.
Her breath tightened.
"From today onward, I will treat you solely as my secretary. Nothing more."
The words struck like cold water.
Elara couldn't speak.
Adrian didn't pause.
"You have made it clear you do not wish to share the truth," he continued. "Whatever that truth is, I will no longer search for it."
Her fingers tightened at her sides.
"You seem distressed," he added quietly. "Whenever the past is mentioned, you look… hurt. I don't intend to cause you pain. So I will stop asking."
Elara's lips parted, but nothing came out.
"You may move on," Adrian said. "You do not owe me explanations. Or guilt. Or anything else."
She felt something inside her crack.
"And do not worry," he said, voice cooling. "I will not bother you in private again."
It felt like a final door closing.
Elara forced herself to nod faintly. "Understood, Mr. Vale."
She turned before her voice could betray her.
The moment she left the office, her legs carried her straight to the nearest restroom. The door closed behind her, and her composure crumbled. She clutched the sink, breathing in sharp, uneven gasps before the tears finally fell.
She sobbed silently, shoulders trembling with the weight of everything she hadn't said. The guilt. The fear. The longing. And now, the fresh sting of losing him and she's truly losing him this time.
It was her fault.
Her cowardice.
Her silence.
She had chosen to protect him a year ago, and now she was destroying herself to keep the same lie alive.
"Elara," she whispered to her reflection, voice breaking, "this is what you chose. You deserve this."
But knowing she deserved it didn't make the pain any easier.
If anything, it only made her cry harder.
Elara washed her face until the redness around her eyes faded. She took a few steady breaths before returning to her desk, forcing her expression into something neutral.
For the rest of the day, Adrian did not speak to her.
Not a word.
Not a single instruction.
Not even a glance.
She sat at her desk pretending to work while her heart twisted itself into knots. She told herself this was for the best. He deserved clarity. She was the one who asked for distance. Yet knowing it and feeling it were two different things, and each minute felt heavier than the last.
When the workday ended, she packed her things slowly, hoping he might call for her, even for something simple. But the office behind her remained silent.
Just as she stood, Eric appeared at her desk.
"Elara. Ready for dinner?"
She hesitated. "Yes. Let me grab my things."
Eric smiled warmly as she put on her bag. They walked together toward the exit.
What she did not expect was for Adrian to step out of his office at the exact moment they reached the corridor.
He stopped.
His eyes shifted from Elara to Eric, then back to her. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
Eric brought her to a quiet restaurant. The moment they sat down, Elara sensed he was nervous. His hands fidgeted slightly, his eyes drifting toward her more than toward the menu.
"Elara… there's something I want to say."
She looked up.
Eric inhaled slowly. "I never forgot the time we watched a movie together last year. I thought it meant something. I was excited when you agreed to go out again. Then you canceled and left your job. I did not know why, but I kept thinking about it."
Elara's fingers tightened around her fork.
Eric continued, voice softening. "When I saw you again here at Vale's Corporation, I knew I could not waste the chance a second time."
He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers.
Elara's breath caught. She pulled her hand back immediately, her heart pounding.
Eric blinked, startled.
"Elara… I like you. A lot. I have never met anyone like you. I want to try again. Will you give me a chance?"
For a long moment, she stared at the napkin in her lap, unable to look at him.
"Eric," she said gently, "I am very grateful to you. Truly. You are a good man."
His shoulders lowered slightly.
"But…" She swallowed hard. "There is someone else in my heart. And I know I will not feel the same way toward anyone else."
Eric's face fell, but he kept his composure. "Someone at the same company?"
She hesitated, then shook her head. "It does not matter who. What matters is… I cannot return your feelings. I do not want to hurt you."
Eric exhaled slowly. "I understand. I am disappointed, but I understand."
He forced a small smile. "At least you were honest with me."
Elara nodded. "I am really sorry."
Dinner ended quietly. Eric paid the bill and insisted on walking her to the station. They parted with a polite farewell.
But her heart was already somewhere else.
*****
Miles away, Adrian sat alone in the darkness of his home.
No lights.
Only the quiet click of a bottle opening and the soft thud of it against the table.
He drank until the warmth blurred his thoughts. His head dropped back, eyes half-closed, breathing uneven. In that hazy state, memories he had long forgotten pushed through the cracks.
The softness of a woman's laughter stayed with him, slipping into his thoughts when he least expected it. The warmth of a hand guiding his lingered too, a memory he kept reaching for without meaning to. He could still hear the whisper of his name in the dark, faint enough to make him wonder if he imagined it. The feeling of lips brushing his cheek returned in quiet moments, gentle and unavoidable. Her scent surrounded him when he slept, pulling him back to memories he couldn't shake. And her voice stayed with him most of all, telling him she would stay.
"Elara…" he murmured to no one.
His phone slipped from his fingers before he grabbed it again, fumbling through the contacts.
He pressed her name.
Elara's phone buzzed as she was on the train home. She froze when she saw the screen.
Adrian's calling.
Her chest tightened painfully. She answered immediately.
"Mr. Vale…?"
There was silence, then a slurred breath.
"Elara," he whispered. His voice was unsteady.
Her stomach dropped. "Are you all right?"
He didn't answer the question. "Where are you…"
Her worry grew. "Did you drink?"
More silence. Then a faint sound, almost like a laugh, but broken. "I think I'm going crazy. I never felt that in my life. Just now my mind was filled with things I don't know but they are so familiar."
Elara's heart raced. She had never heard him like this. Not even in the darkest days when he was blind.
More silence, then a faint, slurred whisper. "I cannot see anything. It is all dark."
Elara's breath caught. "What do you mean dark? Adrian, are you hurt? Where are you right now?"
Another long pause. She could hear him shifting, hear the faint thump of his hand brushing against something.
"Dark," he repeated softly. "I can only see darkness now."
Her chest tightened painfully. Panic squeezed her ribs. Had something happened to his vision again? Was he injured? Was this a relapse from the accident?
"Please tell me where you are," she said urgently. "Adrian, I need to know where you are."
A faint rustling came through the line. Then another broken whisper. "Home…"
"You're at home?" she asked, breath catching.
A soft sound of agreement vibrated through the speaker. Relief hit her in a rush, but it did nothing to calm the fear twisting inside her.
"Did something happen to your eyes?" she asked quickly. "Adrian, listen to me. Are you hurt at all?"
No answer. Only the sound of him breathing unevenly, as if struggling to stay alert. His voice came again, softer than before.
"I do not know. Everything is dark."
Elara pressed a trembling hand to her mouth. He was drunk, confused, and now possibly afraid. She could hear it in the slight tremor of his voice.
She asked again, slower this time. "You are at home? In your living room?"
A soft exhale. "Yes."
"I understand," she whispered, trying to steady her voice even as her fingers shook around her phone. "Stay where you are. Do not move around."
Elara arrived at Adrian's house quickly. Her hands shook slightly as she entered the familiar passcode. The soft click of the lock made her chest tighten.
The moment she opened the door, darkness greeted her. Not a single light was on.
"Adrian?" Elara called, her voice trembling.
No response.
She quickly reached for the nearest switch. The lights flicked on, revealing the dining table cluttered with several bottles of hard liquor. Most of them were open, some nearly empty.
Her heart sank.
"Adrian?" she called again.
This time she heard a faint sound. She hurried forward and found him sitting on the floor in front of the sofa, head tilted against the cushion as if trying to steady himself.
When he heard her footsteps, his head turned. His unfocused eyes tried to search for her.
"Elara…" His voice cracked, full of confusion and something like fear.
She knelt beside him at once. "I am here. I am right here."
He reached for her and clung to her arm, pulling her close.
"I cannot see just now," he whispered. "Everything was dark."
Her chest tightened. "You are just drunk and exhausted. And you didn't turn on the lights."
He pressed his forehead to her shoulder, like a lost child who had finally found something solid to hold on to. His breath was warm against her skin, and she felt his body tremble.
"It is all right," she murmured. "Let me help you sober up."
She lifted him with effort and guided him to sit on the sofa. He leaned heavily against her, still holding her hand as if afraid she would vanish.
"Elara, do not go," he murmured.
"I am not going anywhere," she promised.
She poured him cold water and raised it to his lips. He drank slowly, his head leaning against her shoulder. She then got up to open the curtains and the window to let cool air in. She later walked to the kitchen to get a cold pad and pressed it gently against his forehead and neck to cool him down.
He murmured something under his breath, soft and messy, and she could not understand the words. His voice cracked with emotion, each sound tugging at her heart.
When his breathing steadied a little, she said, "You need a cold shower. It will help."
He nodded weakly. He let her pull him up.
As they climbed the stairs, he followed her like an obedient child, holding onto the railing with one hand and to her with the other. She glanced back at him and could not help a small smile. Seeing him like this, vulnerable and oddly sweet, brought back memories she wished she could forget and yet desperately wanted to hold.
When he tried to unbutton his shirt, his fingers fumbled clumsily. He huffed in frustration, and Elara's heart warmed at the sight of his helplessness.
"I will help you," she said softly.
His hands fell to his sides as she undid the buttons one by one. The sight of his familiar toned body made heat rush to her cheeks. She quickly looked away, hoping he was too drunk to notice her reaction.
She fetched his sleepwear and led him into the bathroom. When she heard the shower start, she went downstairs to clean up the bottles.
By the time she returned, Adrian was already in his room, damp from the shower, a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. Water glistened on his skin, and his hair was dripping.
"Elara…" His voice was soft.
She cleared her throat and pointed to the bathroom. "I prepared your sleepwear there. You should dry off and put something on before you catch a cold."
"I need your help," he said, sounding exactly like a helpless child.
Elara's lips twitched despite the worry weighting her chest. "All right. I will help."
She handed him his sleepwear and helped him slip into it, keeping her touch gentle and efficient. His eyes were half closed, his breathing slow and heavy. When she finished, she wrapped a towel around his head and dried his hair carefully.
He swayed slightly, already drifting to sleep.
She guided him to the bed, helped him lie down, and pulled the blanket over him. His hand caught hers weakly for a moment before relaxing.
Elara brushed a strand of damp hair from his forehead.
"Good night, Adrian," she whispered.
He murmured her name one last time, soft and faint, before sleep claimed him completely.
Elara stood beside Adrian's bed for a moment longer, watching the way his chest rose and fell with each slow breath. His face had softened in sleep, no trace of the coldness he carried in the daylight.
A part of her wanted to stay all night. To stay by his side the way she used to, watching over him until morning to make sure he's fine.
But then his words from earlier echoed sharply in her mind.
I will treat you only as my secretary.
I will not bother you again.
You can move on.
She wiped her tears, drew a steady breath, and finally walked out of the room.