Collin (a few days ago)
The past week had been an emotional rollercoaster. Seeing Cereus at the event, radiant and happy, had ripped through the carefully constructed walls I'd built around myself. The regret of letting her go, of not fighting for us, was a constant ache in my chest.
Then there was Matthew. The image of him leaning into the car window, a possessiveness in his posture that set my teeth on edge. Could that be the reason for her hesitation, for her guarded demeanour? Was she happy? Was I the fool for clinging to the remnants of a past love?
I couldn't take it anymore. The unanswered questions, the swirling vortex of emotions, were threatening to consume me. With a deep breath, I made my way to her office.
I scanned the room, my gaze lingering on her for a fraction of a second before settling on the documents sprawled across her desk.
"Working late?" I asked, my voice surprisingly devoid of warmth.
"Just finishing up some reports for the board meeting," Cereus replied, looking like, she is forcing herself to meet my gaze. "Anything I can help you with, Mr. Reeves?"
I hesitated, then pulled out a chair and sat down across from her. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words and memories.
"About the other night," I finally began, my voice rough than I intended. "I apologize for the unprofessional approach."
Her body tensed. "There's no need to apologize, Mr. Reeves. Unless you have something work-related to discuss, perhaps it's best to refrain from such…outbursts."
"It wasn't an outburst," I countered before I could control it, I could feel my eyes hardening. "I… I wanted to talk."
"And I declined," she reminded me, her voice steady. "Unless it's work-related, I don't see the point."
I stared at her for a long moment, I felt a storm brewing in my eyes. Then, with a sigh, I leaned back in my chair, the fight seemingly draining out of me.
"Fine," I said, running a hand through my hair. "Work then. The Hope Foundation Gala was a success. Thanks to you, of course."
"It was a team effort," she replied, but I could detect a touch of pride in her voice.
"Indeed," I agreed, then paused. "But your role was crucial. You did well, Cereus."
There was a hint of warmth in my voice that even I myself could detect.
"Thank you, Mr. Reeves," Cereus replied, seemingly unsure of how to respond.
The silence settled again, heavier this time. We sat there, two people bound by a past that felt like a lifetime ago, yet still raw and exposed.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen, a flicker of annoyance crossing my features. "Excuse me," I said, taking the call.
The conversation was brief, a series of terse affirmations and clipped replies. When I hung up, my expression was unreadable, my mind was a mess.
"That was my… extended family," I said, choosing my words carefully. "There seems to be an issue with one of the factories."
I stood up, a hint of urgency in my movements. "I need to deal with it quickly. But… Cereus," I hesitated, then met her gaze. "Can we talk… properly? When all this is over?"
I could feel her breath hitched. The question hung in the air, a fragile thread connecting us across the chasm of the past. Were we ready to delve back into that mess of unresolved feelings and unspoken truths?
"I…" she began, unsure how to respond.
"Please," I said, my voice low and urgent. "Just think about it."
Before she could reply, I turned and walked out, leaving her staring at my back, my words echoing in the empty silence of the office.
__ __ __
Collin
The dull ache in my stomach wasn't from the whiskey anymore. It was the gnawing anxiety that had taken root the moment I left Cereus' office. The late-night factory call was true, but there was time, it had been a pathetic excuse, a flimsy bridge to a conversation I desperately needed. Now, back in the cavernous solitude of my office, the silence pressed in on me, broken only by the mocking tick of the clock.
The image of Cereus, bathed in the soft lamplight, her brow furrowed in concentration, flickered on repeat behind my eyelids. Had there been a flicker of warmth in her eyes when I'd praised her work? Or was it just the wishful thinking of a lovesick fool?
The past week had been a whirlwind of emotions, a tempest I'd brewed for myself. Seeing Cereus at the event, radiating a happiness that felt like a personal affront, had shattered the carefully constructed walls around my heart. Regret, a bitter aftertaste, lingered in my throat – the regret of letting her go, of not fighting for what we had.
And then there was Matthew. The image of him leaning into the car window, a possessive glint in his eyes, sent a fresh wave of irritation crashing over me. Was that the reason for Cereus' guarded demeanour? Was she happy with him? Was I the only one clinging to the wreckage of a past love?
The doubt gnawed at me, a relentless parasite. I couldn't take it anymore. The unanswered questions, the swirling vortex of emotions, threatened to drown me.
With a deep breath that did little to steady my nerves, I made my way to the factory to try and settle the issue before it could become a problem in the upcoming board meeting.