Chapter 25

The meeting ended with a final slide click and a few murmured exchanges among the team. As the room gradually emptied, chairs scraping softly against the floor and murmurs fading into the hallway, I remained frozen in my seat. My fingers gripped the edge of my notepad as if letting go would cause me to crumble right there.

The adrenaline that had been pulsing through my veins ever since Drew began addressing the team was finally beginning to fade out, leaving my limbs weak and my mind spinning.

Miriam passed by, lightly tapping my shoulder with a smile that held more warmth than words could offer. It was the kind of reassurance that anchored me for a brief moment.

I gave a slight nod, grateful, even if my voice failed me in that instant.

I waited until everyone had filed out and until the room was now very quiet before gathering the courage to approach Drew’s desk. He was still seated, reviewing some notes, the lines of his jaw sharp in the overhead lighting. His expression was unreadable as usual, not angry, not welcoming either. Just… Drew.

“Um, thank you for addressing the disrespect and clearing my name in front of everyone,” I began hesitantly. My voice felt too soft, like it didn’t belong in the same space that had echoed with confrontation only hours earlier. “And I’m sorry. For earlier… for the way I spoke to you.”

I swallowed hard and straightened my spine. “I understand if you feel I crossed a line and need to penalize me for that. It was unprofessional and I know that has consequences.”

He looked up then, his eyes locking onto me with that piercing steadiness I had grown to dread and crave all at once.

“You don’t owe me thanks,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I didn’t do it for your approval. I did it because it was the right thing to do.”

I nodded quickly, cheeks flushed with something I couldn’t quite name; Shame? Confusion? Relief? With Drew it was always a whirlwind of confusing emotions.

“But,” he continued, “I’ll only pardon the way you spoke to me because it’s your first time crossing that line. It won’t happen again. I don’t tolerate insubordination, no matter the circumstances.”

His words, though calmly delivered, landed with the weight of a verdict. I nodded again, more slowly this time, the apology dying on my lips. “Yes sir, it won't happen again” I finally said.

Then came the part that tightened my chest before he even said a word.

“As for what happened between us,” he said, folding his arms across his chest, “I’m a man with strict boundaries, Lila. I don’t mix business with pleasure.

That night was a mistake, one that shouldn’t have happened. If we’re going to continue working together, we need to put it behind us completely.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

I stood there, still as stone, the words slicing through the veil of whatever hope I didn't realize I was still holding onto.

“I’ll treat you with the respect you deserve as a professional. But nothing more,” he said.

It felt final. Like a door being shut and locked with no intention of ever being opened again.

I forced a small smile, though my heart crumbled inward. “Understood,” I said softly. “I won’t bring it up again.”

“I’m giving you a chance to show yourself and your value Lila. Don't jeopardize that with flimsy feelings.”

I couldn’t tell if I wanted to scream or cry.

“I’ve said I understand, Drew.”

He frowned and continued his speech. “I also don't throw pity parties, so whatever you have going on with you personally fix it up and let's see your A game on this project.”

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “I have concluded that whatever I think about us… or whatever happened between us shouldn’t get in the way of your ability to do your job, that's why you are still handling this project.”

Us.

The word echoed in the air between us.

“There’s no ‘us,’” I said quietly.

His jaw flexed. “Exactly. I'm glad you are finally catching on. You can now leave.” He concluded

I turned before he could see the pain clouding my eyes, the carefully built mask slipped the moment my back was to him.

Each step away from his desk felt like I was walking out of a dream I had no business chasing. And yet my heart was beating with stubborn longing; irrational, fragile, aching.

By the time I reached my seat, my mind was made up.

Drew had been clear. Brutally so. There was no space in his life for complications. And my child, our child was just that: a complication.

He would never know. I couldn't risk his rejection again, not for myself, and certainly not for the tiny life growing inside me. He had already erased that night from his memory; I had to do the same.

At that moment only one name came to my mind. Max

My mind conjured his face, the softness in his eyes, the steadiness in his voice, the way he had shown up for me time and time again. He wasn’t intense or unpredictable. He was… safe.

And maybe, just maybe, safety was what I needed.

My hand trembled slightly as I reached for my phone. After staring at the screen for a long moment with heart pounding I finally dialed his number.

“Lila?” Max answered almost instantly, his voice laced with concern and that gentle warmth that now felt so needed.

“Hi,” I said, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “How are you doing?”

I'm fine, thank you. How are you and how's the baby? Hope everything is fine?” His voice was filled with so much concern and it just reassured me that I was making the right decision.

“Calm down Max” I said with a light chuckle. “I'm fine and everything is fine” I answered purposely leaving out the baby question. “I wanted to ask, Are you free this evening?”

“Of course. What’s up?”

“Can we meet? At the park… the one we went to last time.”

There was a pause not hesitation, just surprise. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll be there.”

“Okay. See you then.”

I ended the call and slowly lowered my phone onto the desk. My gaze drifted to the floor to ceiling window across the office, the sky outside was bright and beautiful.

This was it. The turning point.

I was choosing the future I could control. One without Drew.

I was choosing Max.

Or at least, that’s what I told myself as I stared out the window, while my heart echoed with a name I refuse to say aloud.