All Chapters of One True Love : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

‎‎The house felt too warm.‎‎Maybe it was the lights above the dining table. Maybe it was the way the air felt heavier after the elders stepped out to the porch, their laughter floating back through the half-closed sliding doors. Or maybe it was just the three people left sitting inside—each one pretending there wasn’t a storm brewing in the quiet room.‎‎Roxanne stayed frozen in her chair, fingers lightly pressing the edge of her plate as if steadying herself. She could hear Nana’s loud laugh outside, followed by Arch’s mom teasing his dad about mispronouncing an Italian dish,and the laughter continue as Nana's friend shared their stories as well. The clatter of utensils, the scrape of rocking chairs—comforting sounds that belonged to a peaceful evening.‎‎But peace didn’t exist at their table.‎‎Not with Ella sitting across them, her spine straight, her eyes sharper than the silverware. Not with Arch beside her, his hand resting lightly on Roxanne’s knee under the table like he

‎‎‎‎‎The city lights flickered past the car window, blurred by the late-night rain streaking down the glass. Roxanne sat quietly in the passenger seat, her hands folded on her lap, eyes fixed on the passing streets. Every streetlight, every neon sign, felt like a reminder of the chaos she’d left behind,and the chaos she still carried inside.‎‎Arch drove steadily, his jaw tight, hands gripping the steering wheel just enough to remind himself that he was holding onto control. He hadn’t said a word since they left Nana’s house, not out loud. But every glance Roxanne stole at him, every subtle shift of her shoulders, spoke volumes.‎‎The silence was heavy, but not uncomfortable. It wasn’t filled with anger or argument-it was something quieter, something fragile. Something that could shatter at any moment if either of them said the wrong word.‎‎Roxanne swallowed hard and finally broke the silence, her voice small and hesitant. “I… I didn’t mean to… cause… all of that tonight.”‎‎

‎The condo was quiet again, the lights warm and low, shadows stretching softly across the walls. Roxanne stood there with her heart pounding against her ribs, watching Arch breathe, watching the slight sway of his body as he leaned back on the bar stool. He wasn’t drunk enough to lose himself completely, but he wasn’t sober either. He was in that dangerous space in between — where people say the things they’ve been desperately trying to swallow. ‎ ‎And Arch… he wasn’t swallowing anything tonight. ‎ ‎Roxanne could see it in the way he stared at her. His pupils dark, his breathing uneven, his emotions sitting right beneath the surface like a storm ready to burst. ‎ ‎She should have walked away. She should have escaped before something irreversible happened. Before the fragile line between them snapped. ‎ ‎But she didn’t. ‎ ‎Instead, she whispered, “Arch… you should rest.” ‎ ‎He lifted his head slowly, eyes dragging up her figure like he didn’t want to miss a single inch. “R

‎‎‎‎‎The elevator ride to the top floor felt longer than usual.‎‎Roxanne’s fingers tightened around the rolled-up blueprint tubes in her arms as the digital numbers climbed. She kept her eyes forward, pretending her pulse wasn’t betraying her — pretending she didn’t remember everything that happened days ago.‎‎The silence.‎The closeness.‎The mistake neither of them has dared to name.‎‎When the elevator doors slid open, the familiar cool scent of Arch’s office floor greeted her — clean, sharp, laced with something earthy and expensive. His scent. His world.‎‎She swallowed hard.‎‎“Professional,” she whispered to herself. “You’re here to work. Nothing more.”‎‎Her heels clicked softly against marble as she approached the double glass doors of the CEO’s office.‎The frosted nameplate read: ARCHIMEDES LAURENZ MONTENEGRO.‎CEO.‎Her boss.‎Her almost.‎‎She knocked once.‎‎“Come in,” his voice called.‎‎Deep. Controlled. Too calm.‎‎She pushed the door open.‎‎Arch was

‎‎‎‎‎CHAPTER — Closer Than Business‎‎Roxanne arrived at the Montenegro Inc. headquarters earlier than usual, a mixture of nerves and anticipation twisting her stomach. The office smelled faintly of coffee and polished wood;comforting and familiar, yet charged with something else today. Something she couldn’t name.‎‎She straightened her blazer and smoothed her skirt, telling herself again and again: it’s just business. Nothing else matters.‎‎She passed the glass-walled boardroom and paused. Inside, the table was already set for the day’s meeting. Laptops hummed quietly. Notepads were open. Coffee cups lined the edge like sentries waiting for orders.‎‎And at the head of the table, naturally, was Arch.‎‎He didn’t look up immediately, too engrossed in the papers in front of him. But the moment he sensed her presence, his head lifted, and their eyes met.‎‎That familiar pull hit her chest. The same pull from the site visit. The almost-kiss. The brush of his thumb on her wris