Chapter 3: His Cold Gaze, My Burning Heart

Chapter 3: His Cold Gaze, My Burning Heart

Thank God I brought my bag along—because inside was my umbrella. I quickly grabbed it and hurried to catch up with Justin’s long strides. I raised my hand to shield him from the brutal sun. He glanced at me briefly, his gaze cold and unreadable, but I smiled awkwardly anyway. A small gesture, hoping to soften his icy demeanor.

But no. He ignored my smile, turning his eyes back to the dusty, unfinished path ahead.

My shoulders slumped from the weight of his indifference. What had I done to deserve this cold treatment? It was like we were strangers — no, worse — like he wanted me to forget our past. And yet, wasn’t he the one who walked away?

Just as my mind spun in frustration, Justin spoke suddenly, his voice low and calm as he stared ahead, seemingly talking to himself.

“It’s not really that hot. I guess you can keep your umbrella.”

Wait — did he just talk to me? I was the only one holding the umbrella between us. I blinked, unsure if I had imagined it.

Focused on his words, I didn’t notice the uneven ground littered with construction debris — bits of metal and stones hidden among the dirt. I took a step forward in my heels and suddenly stumbled. My knees buckled beneath me, and before I could react, I fell hard on the rough ground.

“Ahhh! It hurts!” I cried out, clutching my scraped knee.

“Joanna!” Justin shouted, his voice sharp with concern.

I looked down — small pebbles had stuck to the wound, and a thin line of blood trickled from the scrape. The pain was sharp and stinging, but what shocked me more was the sight of Justin already bending down beside me. For the first time since yesterday, his eyes showed something beyond that cold mask — genuine worry.

“You’re really clumsy, huh?” he teased, but I caught the soft edge beneath the words. Still, how could he be so mean when I was the one hurt?

Frustrated, I gave him a sharp glare and returned my attention to my bleeding knee.

Suddenly, he surprised me—before I could react, Justin swept me into his arms bridal-style.

“W-what are you doing? Put me down!” I gasped, flustered and startled by how close he suddenly was.

His masculine scent enveloped me — the same intoxicating cologne I remembered from college, the one I used to love burying my face in when I kissed his neck late at night.

I bit my lower lip, scolding myself for the flood of memories rushing back. It was the past. It was over. I had to stop feeling this way. My face burned red, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“Reminiscing?” Justin teased, his voice soft but teasing as he walked forward without telling me where.

If only I could disappear. I buried my face in his chest, trying to hide the redness.

His chest was still as firm and strong as I remembered — those abs I had admired back then making my heart flutter despite myself. I couldn’t help but smile faintly as he laughed at my embarrassed reaction.

He carried me into the half-finished building, walking until we reached the engineers’ office. Along the way, workers stopped to ask about my fall.

“Sir, what happened to her?” a few men called out, curious.

Justin ignored them all, his glare sharp and dismissive. I thought I saw irritation flicker across his face, and his jaw clenched tightly. The ever-snob Justin, I thought bitterly.

He gently set me down on a black leather sofa, and without a word, disappeared through a nearby door.

I let out a sigh of relief. Alone for a moment, I touched my scraped knee again. It still stung, but I tried not to let the pain distract me from the whirlwind of thoughts about Justin — about us.

Why was he so distant now? Why did he suddenly speak so much English — so formal — when before, he was comfortable switching to Tagalog with me? What happened to him in the past seven years?

Before I could lose myself in memories, Justin returned, carrying a first aid kit. He sat on a plastic chair across from me and gave me a quick glance before focusing on my knee.

He sighed deeply and gently reached for my leg to prop it on his lap.

“Ow! That hurts!” I protested, pulling my leg away.

He frowned but didn’t argue. I sat up, tending to the wound myself while he watched silently.

After a moment, he reached for a cotton ball, dipped it in betadine, and began carefully dabbing at the scrape. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and as he blew softly on the wound, I couldn’t help but watch him intently.

Despite the years, Justin was still as handsome as ever. How did he manage to stay this perfect? My heart ached with questions: Did he miss me? Did he think about me like I thought about him? Did he hurt too, when we parted?

So many what ifs crowded my mind, but I didn’t have the courage to ask. I just sat quietly, letting the silence stretch between us.

“Done. You can stop staring now, Joanna,” Justin said, his tone cold again, snapping me back to reality.

I pressed my palm to my forehead, embarrassed. “Uh... thanks.”

Before I could say more, a voice interrupted.

“Justin! They told me you’re here! I came straight to see you—I missed you so much!”

I turned toward the voice and froze.

It was her.

Lenita — my husband’s best friend.

She strode over confidently, oblivious to my presence, and without warning, kissed Justin deeply on the lips.

I could only watch, heart shattering, as they embraced like no one else was there.

“Hey! What exactly are you crying about? You’ve been at it for a while now. Good thing your tears aren’t running out yet!” Katastrophe teased me, raising an eyebrow as I sat at my desk.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I just cried harder.

She blinked, clearly stunned by my reaction, then shook her head and marched straight to the bathroom. I sniffled, clutching the handkerchief on my desk, but my nose was already flooding with tears.

A few minutes later, Katastrophe popped out from the bathroom, holding something in her hand.

“Oh shoot, I forgot my towel.” She glanced at me, eyes wide in surprise as she noticed me still clutching the handkerchief.

“Joanna! That’s for wiping the desk, not your face,” she said, sounding half amused, half exasperated.

I rolled my eyes and snapped, “Well, no wonder it smells funny!” She just laughed and whispered something I couldn’t quite catch, then disappeared back into the bathroom.

Finally alone, I let myself fall back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as the memories came crashing down.

The kissing scene.

Justin and Lenita.

I’m not stupid—I know they have something. No best friends kiss like that, right? The sting in my chest flared again. My tears came faster, ignoring my desperate attempts to stop.

My eyes burned, swollen already from crying.

Suddenly, a soft voice broke through my misery.

“Are you okay, Miss Cruz?”

I looked up to see Justin standing by the door, that familiar half-smirk playing on his lips. There was a hint of sarcasm in the way he said my name, like he knew exactly what I was feeling.

I nodded stiffly, forcing myself to speak.

“Do you need something, Sir?”

Silence.

I kept my eyes down, not daring to meet his gaze. After what felt like an eternity, I glanced up—and our eyes locked. My heart pounded wildly, pounding like it wanted to break free from my rib cage.

Last night’s heartbreak mixed with today’s turmoil, and my pulse raced as if it could explode.

Thankfully, Katastrophe was fully armed with makeup, so my swollen eyes were well camouflaged with layers of eyeshadow and concealer.

Justin didn’t look away from me; his eyes searched mine like he was trying to find something I was hiding. I hated the way it made me feel—vulnerable and exposed—so I broke eye contact and pretended to busy myself typing on the computer.

I heard a deep sigh before he turned and walked away. Relief flooded me as he left the room.

Lunch came, and following Mrs. Thompson’s advice, I ordered Justin’s food. The delivery guy was kind enough to bring it directly to his office, and surprisingly, Justin agreed.

I decided to grab my own lunch from the canteen, needing a break from the tension.

“Hi! Mind if I sit here?” a deep voice interrupted my thoughts.

I looked up, startled.

In front of me stood a man in a suit and tie, holding a plate of food. And wow—he was good-looking. I nearly choked on my drink.

His smile was contagious, lighting up his whole face.

“I’m Dustin, but you can call me Dusty,” he introduced himself with a charming grin.

I nodded shyly, biting my lower lip.

To be continued...