The day melted into night, a soft golden glow on the horizon. The air grew cooler, and the world held its breath in a hush. Stars shimmered, answering the quiet ache in my heart, as a magic of stillness whispered of love and care, lingering even in silence.
In that moment, everything felt tender, as if the world cradled us in its warm embrace. No words were needed, only the soft rhythm of the night and the comforting presence of what we'd shared.
The next day, I return to work, the weight of the week pressing on me with the weekend ahead. Solin is absent, granted time off, and her departure feels ominous. If she stands by her decision, she may not return. I also wait for any sign that Hak Seng will resolve the case looming over them.
As the hours pass, a message from my manager appears on my phone. He's been out of the office for a few days now, preoccupied with preparations to transition to another brand. His message is brief, but its implications are clear.
"Hi, RED. Please attend the meeting with the CFO this evening at my place. You're to lead the team while I'm away. Best of luck."
The weight of his words settles in, a quiet challenge, but a challenge nonetheless.
I could scarcely believe that I was about to work directly with him, Song Has Seng. The very thought sent a jolt of disbelief through me. Working with people we couldn't stand was a task that demanded an almost absurd level of motivation—otherwise, what was left but to wear a mask of feigned civility?
I pushed aside the thought of Solinka's quiet pain, a reminder of the kind of betrayal that was often left unspoken, as she too had to endure working alongside those who had shattered her heart.
As I stepped off the elevator onto the 11th floor, I nearly collided with Nita, Solinka's close friend. She was carrying a stack of documents and heading toward the office of the Chief Financial Officer.
I knew she and Davy didn't work in this subsidiary's operations—both were part of a different firm, one linked to the larger holding company, as I had heard. Yet, Nita had only transferred here a month before Hak Seng's return. The timing struck me as curious, almost too coincidental to ignore.
Nita now worked in the Human Resources Department, a floor shared by only three departments: Finance, HR, and the CEO's office. The CEO himself seldom made an appearance, with most of the company operations now managed by the new CFO.
"Hello, sister!" I greeted warmly.
"Hi, RED! Came to see bro Hak?" she replied with a friendly smile.
"Yes!" I answered.
"Please, I'll just hand him some documents, then I'll be off," she said, her voice light as she led the way.
As we entered, I found Hak Seng seated behind his desk, his posture tense as he typed furiously on his phone. He didn't look up until there was a knock at the door. He smiled, stood up, and walked over to the meeting table, motioning for me and Nita to join him.
Nita stepped into the room first, and I followed closely behind, the door clicking shut softly behind us. We settled into the chairs, and Nita handed him the stack of documents.
"All the documents haven't reached Solin yet, so I forward them to you instead," she explained, her tone steady.
He nodded, setting the papers aside, his gaze shifting toward me.
"Please, wait a moment. You're RED from the IT team, right?"
I met his look and replied,
"Yes, that's me."
He gave a brief nod before turning his attention back to Nita.
"By the way, did she reach out to you?"
Nita hesitated, her fingers nervously tapping on the desk. She seemed reluctant, maybe worried that I might learn too much. Her expression faltered as she forced a look of concern before speaking.
"She… called me earlier about resigning," she said quietly.
"Resign?" His voice raised slightly, disbelief seeping into his words.
"How careless!"
The sharpness in his tone grated on me. I clenched my jaw, an unspoken frustration rising. The way he dismissed her decision—so flippant, so harsh—infuriated me.
Nita's voice was barely a whisper as she murmured,
"She must be angry at me too."
Hak, ever the calming presence, gave a soft sigh.
"Don't stress. I'll talk to her," he reassured, though the words lacked conviction.
Nita's gaze tightened with concern.
"She won't come again."
Hak hesitated for a moment, his smile wavering before he spoke.
"Hmm, no worries," he said, though his voice was strained. His attempt to sound casual fell flat as the stress of the situation lingered in his eyes.
"That's alright," he continued, trying to regain his composure.
"You can go now. I need to talk to him." He gestured toward me with a slight nod, his tone firm yet tired.
Nita, without another word, slipped out of the room, leaving me alone with Hak.
"Hi," Hak greeted, his voice steady but edged with a hint of uncertainty.
"Hi," I replied, the silence stretching between us before either of us could speak further.
"Has your manager passed on any work to you yet?" Hak asked, his words purposeful but still carrying a trace of professionalism.
"Yes, he did," I answered, keeping my tone neutral.
"Alright," he said, his voice hurried, almost frantic.
"I come from an IT background too, so I believe you're more than capable of leading our team. But if you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to reach out to me. Anytime, okay?"
He was rushing, his words stumbling over one another. It was obvious he wasn't comfortable—his unease practically bled through the phone. "Reach you anytime, what?" I muttered under my breath, irritation simmering beneath the surface. Damn. The last thing I wanted was to see your face, you cheater. You can't even manage your own emotions, let alone anything else.
I didn't dislike him because he was the CFO or had an IT background—no, it went deeper than that. It was because he was Solinka's ex. And right now, the only thing I could think of was how I could stop him from ever seeing her face again.
He glanced at me, his eyes searching, as if trying to decipher the thoughts I was hiding.
"Okay?" he asked, his voice tentative.
I nodded, my response soft but respectful.
"Yes, sir."
He leaned forward slightly, his tone shifting into something more businesslike.
"Can you have a report ready for me? I need to review it, see if there are any concerns or issues that have come up."
"We do have reports," I replied, "but I'll need to go over them again to ensure everything's in order."
"Of course," he said with a brief nod. "Just send it to me tomorrow."
"Understood. I'll have it ready."
He paused, then asked,
"Anything else?"
I hesitated for a moment, then said,
"Shall we go over the report first?"
"Yes," he replied, his tone decisive.
"That's the priority."
"Noted," I said, mentally marking it down.
I found myself at a loss, uncertain of what to do next—work seemed like an afterthought. The tension between the three of us was not just about circumstances; it was about something deeper, something intrinsic to our personalities. I had inserted myself into the mix, knowing I couldn't live without Solinka. No matter where I stood in the vast expanse of her life, from this moment on and as time passed, I knew I would remain a part of it.
If she were jobless, she could return to her home in Siem Reap province, and it might bring her a sense of peace, a joy she'd long for. But even that simple option seemed out of reach. She couldn't go back home, not without the weight of uncertainty bearing down on her. She was trapped in that cruel limbo—no place to go, no place to retire to. It felt almost inhumane for me to leave her to face it all on her own. The harshness of reality stung with every passing moment.
I stood frozen, my gaze fixed on the edge of the balcony, distant and unmoving. It took me back to the first day I saw her, standing there in that navy blue gown—an image I could never quite shake. Now, as I watched the world unfold before me, I couldn't help but wonder how she had endured those long, silent two months after the truth had come crashing down. How had she survived, knowing Hak had betrayed her, with no place to return to, no refuge to escape to? The weight of it all pressed down on my chest as I struggled to comprehend her quiet strength.
I continued my walk, the steady rhythm of my steps guiding me toward my doorstep. As I neared, something caught my eye—a small red sticky note stuck by a paper clip resting on the wooden shoe cabinet next to my door. I pick it up to read the message scrawled in familiar handwriting:
"Hi RED, I am not at home. Don't try to reach me. I'll be back soon.
Solinka,"
A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. There was something about this—the simplicity, the personal touch—that made my heart swell. Instead of a quick text or a fleeting call, she had chosen this: a tangible note, something
I could hold, something that would linger far beyond the moment. It was priceless. Beautiful. And as I folded the paper gently in my hand, I knew it would be forever etched in my heart.
Continued...