CHAPTER 7-THE FEELINGS SHE COULDN'T EXPLAIN

Anna's POV

I walked out of his office with the words still burning in my head.

“It can’t be him”!.

The elevator doors closed. My reflection stared back at me in the mirrored walls, pale, tense, eyes too wide. I pressed my back against the cold metal and forced air into my lungs. The interview was over. I had answered every question. I had kept my voice steady. I had not fallen apart.

But my hands were still shaking.

Outside, the afternoon heat hit me like a wall. I walked to the nearest bus stop without looking back at the glass tower. Every step felt heavier than the last. The shape of his face kept replaying,...sharp jaw, dark eyes, the controlled way he watched me. The same eyes that had looked down at me in a hotel room five years ago while the world outside disappeared.

No!, it definitely can't be him, I continued in denial.

I boarded the bus and found a seat by the window. The city moved past in a blur of traffic and glass. I closed my eyes and tried to separate the two men in my mind. The stranger’s voice had been rough, thick with alcohol,deeper, hazier. It had rumbled against my skin when he spoke low into my ear. This man’s voice was clean, precise, and cold. Different, completely different. The stranger had been reckless, hungry, lost in the same way I was that night. The man behind the desk controlled power. Nothing alike.

I told myself that all the way home.

Amyra ran to the door the moment I opened it. She threw her arms around my waist, yellow dress slightly crooked, crayon still in one hand.

“Mommy! Did you win the job?”

I crouched and hugged her tightly, breathing in the soft scent of her hair. “Not yet, baby. But I tried my best.”

She pulled back and studied my face the way she always did, serious, too perceptive for five years old. “Your eyes look tired. Like when the squeeze comes.”

“I’m okay.” I brushed a curl from her forehead. “How was your day with Grandma?”

“I drew a new hospital. This one has a garden on the roof so the kids can see the sky.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me to the small table. The drawing was bright, full of rainbow windows and tiny smiling faces. I sat with her while she explained every detail, her voice light and hopeful. She pointed at a small room she had colored blue. “That’s the quiet room. For when the squeeze gets too strong. No one cries there.”

My throat tightened. I kissed the top of her head and listened until she finished. For a while the tight knot in my chest loosened.

We ate simple noodles at the kitchen table. Amyra talked about the scarf she had folded at the boutique and how one customer had smiled when she sang. Mama and Papa came by briefly after closing the shop. They asked about the interview with careful hope in their eyes. I told them it went fine. I did not tell them about the man behind the desk or the way my pulse had refused to slow.

Later, after a short bath, I tucked Amyra into bed. She fell asleep quickly, one hand resting over her chest out of habit. I stayed in the doorway longer than usual, watching the steady rise and fall of her breathing. The hospital letter still sat in the drawer of the kitchen counter. Three thousand dollars, the number had not changed.

I went to my own room and lay down in the dark.

Sleep did not come easily. When it finally did, the dream arrived in broken pieces.

A hotel suite, dim light. The weight of a stranger’s body above mine with his mouth on my neck. The rough sound of his breathing. My own voice, slurred and desperate, begging for more. Hands gripping my hips. The sharp pleasure that made me forget Daniel, forget the three years, forget everything except the way he filled me. The silver cufflink on the nightstand, catching the low light. Morning light cutting across empty sheets. The ache between my legs when I woke up alone.

I woke with a sharp breath, heart pounding. The room was dark. My skin felt too warm. I sat up and pressed my palms against my eyes until the images faded. Sweat cooled at the back of my neck.

It was only a dream, only a memory. It meant nothing.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

I reached for it, still half-asleep. A message from an unknown number glowed on the screen.

“Mo Ting Global Holdings – HR Department

Dear Ms. Anna Li,

Following the first round of interviews for the Eco-City Project lead position, you and one other candidate have been selected to advance. Both of you scored equally. You are invited to a final practical assessment this coming Monday at 10:00 a.m. at our Pudong headquarters.

Please confirm your attendance.”

I stared at the words.

A second chance.

A final test.

My thumb hovered over the screen. The same building. The same man behind the desk. The same eyes that had looked at me like he almost remembered something. The same pull I had felt when he first lifted his head.

I read the message again. Then again.

The air in the room felt thinner. I set the phone down carefully and sat in the dark, listening to the quiet of the apartment. Amyra’s soft breathing from the next room. The distant sound of a car passing outside.

Somehow, returning to Mo Ting Global felt strangely like walking back into that hotel room.