Chapter 4~ Chained to the Past

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Just like Mira said—he was in a shitty mood.

Noah sat slouched on the sofa, ignoring the office secretary as she nervously read off his schedule.

He tapped his foot rapidly, like he was counting down to an explosion. His fingers drummed against his thigh—a habit he’d picked up after years of bottling shit up instead of just saying it out loud.

His jaw was clenched, brows drawn tight, and that signature scowl was glued to his face, the one he wore whenever the world refused to bend to his liking.

Nora walked in like nothing was wrong, not that she would no.

She didn’t spare him a glance as she crossed the room and took the seat farthest from him.

She’d long since learned not to fear Noah’s anger. His moods didn’t scare her anymore. If out all, they annoyed her—because she knew he could be more than this. He just chose not to be.

“You wanted to see me?” she asked coolly.

His eyes snapped up.

“Why’re you sitting so far away?” he asked, clearly irritated, like even her choice of seat offended him.

She bit the inside of her cheek, swallowing down the snark rising to her tongue. Instead, she offered a faint, polite smile. “I need fresh air,” she lied smoothly. “And this seat’s closest to the window.”

He didn’t buy it. She could tell.

Still frowning, he grabbed a thick stack of documents and dropped them on the coffee table—loudly.

“Fine. I need you to go through these.”

His tone was clipped. Rude.

She sighed—not out of exhaustion, but because of how familiar this whole dance had become.

“You wanna tell me what the hell’s wrong with you?” she asked, feigning mild curiosity. “You’ve been—”

“Enough!” he barked, cutting her off and slamming a palm against the stack. “Just go through the damn documents.”

Nora blinked, taken aback.

Seriously? He was this pissed because Mira kicked him out?

Mira was a married woman, for God sakes. What kind of man sulks over a married woman while the single one right in front of him loyal, patient—gets treated like disposable furniture?

In anger, Nora snatched the papers off the table.

“Do I look like your personal chew toy?” she asked, in a low voice.

Noah blinked—as if her words hit a nerve he hadn’t armored. “Huh?”

She jerked her chin toward the secretary still hovering awkwardly by the door. “That’s your office assistant. Not me.”

Then she stood, lifting her chin high, her stare unblinking. “But I’ll go through these papers, Sir. Not because you barked at me—because I’m doubling my salary this month.”

He sat up straighter, visibly thrown. “You’re joking, right?” he asked, “You can’t just demand—”

“I wasn’t hired to be your emotional punching bag, Mr. Bamford,” she cut in, harsher. “You might be the CEO, but I’m a boss in my own right too.”

He glanced at the door and gave the assistant a subtle nod. Once she slipped out, he turned back to Nora.

“You wanna tell me what the problem is?” he asked, quieter now. “Your voice is… unpleasantly harsh today.”

Harsh? She almost laughed. The nerve of this son of a bitch.

“Really?” she said, flashing a brittle smile. “Because I’m using the same tone you’ve been dishing out since I walked in.”

He slumped back into the couch, dragging a hand through his hair. “You got a call from Mira, didn’t you?”

Not a call per se.

Nora tilted her head, playing dumb.

“And why would I get a call from Mira?”

His expression changed, part frustration, part defeat.

“You don’t have to lie. I know you two still keep in touch.”

Nora stared at him.

She was confused, frustrated, and dangerously close to losing the last sliver of control she had left over whatever the hell this was between them.

How long was she supposed to stay quiet while he chased ghosts?

While she stood here unseen, unwanted but still hopelessly drawn to him?

“How long are you going to keep torturing yourself over Mira, Noah?” Her voice trembled. “She’s married. As if that’s not enough, she’s having a baby, for crying out loud.”

“So what?” he shot back, unapologetic. “She was mine first—before that asshole stole her. Just because she’s married doesn’t mean I love her any less.” He said shamelessly.

He thought he was being honest.

She thought he was being selfish.

Neither of them realized just how far apart their definitions of love had drifted.

“I thought someone who’s experienced loss would understand what I’m feeling,” he added bitterly.

Nora froze.

He didn’t just say that.

He didn’t just compare this—his pathetic obsession with Mira—to that… to her burying her entire family.

“I see,” she said at last, her voice flat, stripped of any emotion.

Noah’s eyes widened, ah, he made a mistake. “Nora, wait. That’s not what I meant—”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Bamford,” she cut in abruptly, tears brimming but refusing to fall. “But not everyone’s stuck in the past like you are.”

And with that, she turned and walked out, slamming the door with a loud thud.

Noah exhaled slowly, dragging a tired hand down his face.

“Seriously, Noah…” he muttered under his breath, moving toward the window. “Did you really have to go that far?”

He stood there, staring at the door long after she was gone.

Finally, he pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over her name.

“I’ll just apologize later,” he said softly, to no one at all.