9-Love After Heartbreak

“Anna,” he said, the name sounding different in his mouth, “don’t you wanna teach me how not to look down at you anymore?”

The folder pressed against her chest where she was still holding it between them.

She could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his palm through her blouse, and the fact that he hasn’t let go of her waist.

Outside the door, the bodyguards were still standing where she’d left them.

Inside, the office was quiet except for the low hum of the air and the sound of her own pulse in her ears.

He didn’t move. He just waited, close enough that she could feel the question hanging against her skin.

Anna’s fingers closed around his wrist and pushed his hand off her waist.

She stepped back so fast her heel caught the edge of the carpet. The folder stayed clutched to her chest like it could put space between them.

She bit the inside of her lip hard enough to feel it, eyes fixed somewhere past his shoulder and he turned and walked to the desk.

He snatched the shirt from the back of the chair, shook it once, and slid his arms through the sleeves. Button by button he closed it, slow enough that the fabric settled against the same chest she’d just been staring at.

His eyes never left her. She kept her own down, swallowing once, then again, trying to push the heat out of her throat.

The air in the office felt thicker.

She could hear the faint click of the air conditioner and nothing else.

He finished the last button, rolled his shoulders once, and sat down.

The chair creaked under him. His expression went blank the second he was settled, the earlier amusement wiped clean. Unreadable.

“Sir…I’m sorry about…”

“Drop the file.” The words cut clean across hers.

Anna moved before she finished the sentence in her head. The folder hit the desk with a soft slap.

He opened it, flipped two pages, then tore the first one straight down the middle. The sound was sharp.

He did the next the same way, then the one after, stacking the ruined halves without looking up at her again.

“You don’t know your job, do you?” His voice stayed low, almost conversational. The cold smile returned. “Do you think we play here or what? Huh?”

Anna’s eyes widened, to document this file and finished with it took two hours. And he just tore them, how can he be so cruel?

“Sorry, sir…” she managed to say.

“Get out and resubmit the file.” He muttered coldly. “Today before you leave.”

She stood there one second longer, mouth open, then shut it.

“Yes, sir.” She turned, walked to the door, and pressed a button, walked out without looking back.

The bodyguards didn’t glance at her as she passed.

Just as she got back to her desk, she dropped into the chair, elbows on the surface, and let out a long, tired sound that stayed mostly in her chest.

First day. First real interaction with the man who could end it, and she’d already insulted him, walked in on him half-dressed, and watched him destroy the only thing she’d finished.

She pressed her palms to her eyes for a moment, then sat up and started the document over.

The second trip upstairs was quieter.

His office door was closed but unlocked. The chair behind the desk was empty. She set the new folder dead center, aligned the edges, and left before anyone could appear.

Her bag was already packed when her phone lit up on the desk.

Georgia on the screen. Anna answered while she slung the bag over her shoulder and headed for the exit.

“Hey, latest secretary,” Georgia said, bright enough that Anna almost smiled.

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes and pushed through the glass doors.

A taxi was already slowing at the curb. She raised her hand to stop it.

“What happened? Did something happen again?”

Anna slid into the back seat and gave the driver the address.

“You won’t believe the man I insulted was my boss.” she said.

A short silence existed between them.

Then Georgia’s voice dropped. “Oh God. I hope he didn’t fire you? That man is cold. He doesn’t tolerate bullshit with his workers. I’ve heard stories about him.”

“He’s mad at me.” Anna leaned her head against the window. “Georgia, this job is shaking.”

“Relax, baby. You can do this.” Georgia paused. “I would have invited you to my house, but my husband doesn’t like it when…”

“Hey, don’t worry about my accommodation. I’ll handle it. Besides, Jacob hasn’t asked me to pack out of his house yet.”

“No.” Georgia’s tone sharpened. “I don’t support you staying with that cheat. My lawyer will send the divorce papers to me very soon. You’ll throw them at his face and pack your stuff. I’ll try my best to get you a place here in Singapore, close to the company.”

Anna closed her eyes, feeling emotional.

The taxi moved through evening traffic.

“And what have I done to deserve all this?” she asked.

“You were a good friend to me,” Georgia said simply. “So I’d do anything for you. I just wish you didn’t have to go through what you went through alone.”

“Thank you so much.” The call ended as the car stopped.

Anna paid the driver, stepped out, and walked inside the mansion with her bag still on her shoulder.

She just prays she doesn't have to see Jacob and his mistress to avoid adding to her problems.

The lights were on. She pushed the door open and stopped.

Jacob stood halfway down the stairs, one hand wrapped around the handle of her suitcase, dragging it bump by bump.