Chapter 22

Elena’s POV

I told myself I’d done the right thing. Setting boundaries with him was the best thing to do. The only thing to do, really. Jonathan and I had gotten too close, and much too tangled up in each other’s lives, and it was clouding everything… including my judgment, and purpose, the reason I’d come to Hart Global in the first place.

This was much, much better.

I repeated this to myself as I got ready for work the next morning, staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My eyes looked tired, I had large eye bags that even makeup couldn’t quite hide.

I’d barely slept, my mind replaying that conversation outside my suite door over and over again.

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to wash away the guilt that had been heavy in my chest since that night.

Eventually, I almost believed I’d done the right thing.

“These calculations are off by at least three percent,” I said, pointing to the spreadsheet on Jonathan’s laptop.

My hand was steady, I tried my hardest to keep my voice professional, but my heart was beating just a little too fast from being this close to him. We were in one of the site offices, reviewing the final budget allocations before submitting them to the investors.

The air conditioning was broken, making the small room feel stuffy, breathing here was really hard, and I could feel a bead of sweat trailing down my spine.

Or maybe that was just from him being this close to me. The tension didn’t even feel nice hmm. Focus Elera.

Jonathan leaned over to look at where I was pointing, and I caught the scent of his cologne…that same woodsy smell that had clung to his shirt when I’d worn it. The memory made my stomach clench, and I shifted slightly away, putting a few more inches of space between us.

His shoulder had been so close to mine.

“Where?” he asked, his tone was also purely professional, like we were strangers who’d just met.

The word stung more than it should have.

“Here.” I forced myself to focus on the screen, ignoring the way my pulse was racing. “The material costs for the server room don’t account for the updated specifications Lisa’s team submitted last week.”

He scrolled through the document, his expression was focused and unreadable. I watched his face from the corner of my eye, trying to gauge what he was thinking, but he gave nothing away.

When had he gotten so good at hiding from me?

“You’re right,” he said finally. “I’ll have accounting revise it.”

“I can do it now if you want,” I offered, hating the slight eagerness in my voice. Like I was desperate for any excuse to stay in this room with him. “It’ll only take twenty minutes.”

“That works. Send it to me when you’re done.”

“Will do.”

The conversation was so painfully polite, but it was what I’d asked for, wasn’t it?

We worked in silence for another few minutes, and the quiet was suffocating. I kept stealing glances at him, wondering if he was as affected by this distance as I was, but his expression remained frustratingly blank.

The only sounds were the clicking of keyboard keys and the distant hum of construction equipment outside, and I’d never felt more alone despite sitting two feet away from him.

Then the door opened, and Lisa walked in.

She was wearing a crisp white blouse and tailored pants, her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail.

My stomach twisted with anger at her presence and I had to physically struggle not to roll my eyes at her.

“Jonathan,” she said warmly, her voice bright and familiar in a way that made my teeth clench. She completely ignored my presence, her eyes locked on him like I wasn’t even in the room. “Do you have a minute? I need to discuss the timeline for phase two.”

Jonathan glanced at me, and for just a second, I thought I saw something…hesitation, maybe, or regret…flash across his face.

But then it was gone.

“Sure,” he said. He looked back at me. “Elena, can you excuse us?”

My face burnt like I got slapped by his words

My throat tightened, and I had to swallow hard against the sudden burn of tears I refused to let fall.

“Of course,” I said, proud that my voice came out steady even though my hands were trembling slightly as I closed my laptop. “I’ll work on those revisions.”

I walked out without looking back, my jaw so tight it was starting to ache. My heels clicked against the floor in a rhythm that matched my racing heartbeat.

It’s for the best, I told myself as I headed back to my temporary desk in the main office trailer, my vision blurring slightly at the edges. Whatever they do is none of your business.

But the thought didn’t make the knot in my stomach loosen. If anything, it pulled tighter, making it hard to breathe.

“Ahhh” I groaned as I stretched my back checking the watch on my wrist.

An hour later, I was still staring at the same spreadsheet, my cursor blinking in the cell I was supposed to be editing.

The numbers blurred together on the screen, meaningless strings of digits that I couldn’t make sense of no matter how hard I tried to focus.

My chest felt hollow and tight at the same time, like something had carved out a space inside me and then filled it with lead.

“Jonathan, can you look at this section…” I started to say turning in my chair to give him the laptop.

But he wasn’t there.

The space where he usually sat was empty. The entire office was empty.

I was alone.

The realization hit me harder than it should have, and I turned back to my laptop, blinking rapidly against the sting in my eyes.

Focus, Elena.

But I couldn’t. My mind kept drifting back to him, to the way things used to be before I’d ruined everything.

The way he’d shown up every time I needed someone, even when I didn’t want to admit I needed anyone. The thunderstorm, when he’d carried me through the rain.

The cramps, when he’d driven through a storm just to get me supplies without being asked. The stranger at the bar, when he’d tracked me down and saved me even though I’d been horrible to him earlier.

He’d been there. Every single time.

My protector. The only constant in my weird uncertain life.

And now…

Now he wasn’t.

My throat was so tight it hurt to swallow. I pressed my fingers against my temples, trying to push away the headache building behind my eyes.

I picked up my phone, checking for messages out of habit even though I already knew there wouldn’t be any.

Nothing.

No texts. No calls. Not even a brief “How are you feeling?” or “Did you get back to the suite okay?”

The screen was empty except for a few work emails and a missed call from my mother that I’d been avoiding.

He’d given me exactly what I asked for…distance.

Complete and total distance.

And I hated it.

I hated that I’d pushed him away and hated even more that it had worked. That he’d actually listened and stepped back and stopped checking on me like I mattered to him.

My hands were shaking as I set the phone down.

This is what you wanted, I reminded myself, my vision blurring with unshed tears I was too stubborn to let fall.