Severa's POV
By the time the meetings and site inspections wrapped up for the day, exhaustion settled deep in my bones. The project was coming together well, but the pressure of ensuring everything went smoothly weighed heavily on me. And, of course, the fact that Eugene was here didn't help.
Most of the team had decided to have dinner together at a seafood restaurant near the hotel. It was a lively place, perfect for unwinding after a long day, but I wasn't in the mood to be around too many people. Celine had tried to convince me to join, but I declined, using the excuse of catching up on emails. That wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the main reason either.
The truth?
I just needed some space.
A few blocks away from the hotel, I found a quieter restaurant—small, warm, and dimly lit, with an intimate ambiance that immediately made me feel more at ease. The scent of grilled fish and simmering broth filled the air, making my stomach grumble in response.
I chose a table near the window, away from the handful of other diners scattered around. As soon as I settled into my seat, I let out a long sigh, allowing myself to relax for the first time all day.
A waiter came by, handing me a menu. I quickly ordered a simple meal—grilled shrimp, steamed rice, and a side of vegetables. Nothing extravagant, just something to fill my stomach before I retreated to my hotel room for the night.
For a few blissful moments, everything was peaceful.
Then, of course, it was ruined.
The chair across from me slid back, and someone sat down.
I didn't even need to look up to know who it was.
"Are you following me now?" I asked dryly, setting my menu aside.
Eugene smirked, unbothered. "No. But if it makes you feel special, go ahead and think that."
I exhaled sharply, crossing my arms. "There are plenty of empty tables."
"I know," he replied casually.
I waited for him to move, but he didn't. Instead, he waved over a waiter and ordered his meal like this was the most natural thing in the world.
"Unbelievable," I muttered under my breath.
"You're not the only one who wanted to avoid the team dinner," he said simply. "I needed a quiet place too."
I didn't respond. I didn't owe him an explanation for my choices, and I certainly wasn't about to let him think we were on the same page.
Minutes passed in silence. Our food arrived, and despite the tension lingering in the air, I focused on eating.
Halfway through my meal, Eugene spoke again.
"You still eat like this," he observed, watching as I carefully separated my side dishes before taking a bite.
I paused mid-chew, my grip tightening on my chopsticks. "Like what?"
"Like you have to organize your food before actually eating it," he said, amusement laced in his tone. "You used to say it made the meal taste better."
I swallowed, setting my chopsticks down. "You remember that?"
He met my gaze, something unreadable flickering in his expression. "I remember a lot of things."
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
Memories I had tried so hard to bury resurfaced—late-night talks, stolen glances, the way he used to look at me like I was the only person in the world. The way he left me without a word.
I gripped the edge of the table, grounding myself.
"Good for you," I said, my voice controlled.
Eugene sighed, leaning back in his chair. "You're still mad."
I let out a humorless laugh. "I don't have the energy to be mad, Eugene. I just don't care anymore."
A lie.
I cared too much.
He studied me for a long moment before nodding slowly. "If that's what you want to believe."
Silence fell between us again, heavier this time.
I focused on finishing my meal, determined not to let him affect me. But as I took another bite, I couldn't ignore the way my hands trembled slightly.
Ten years.
And he still had this effect on me.
After paying for my food, I stepped out of the restaurant, letting the cool evening air wrap around me. The restaurant was located near the beachfront, and the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore pulled me in.
Without thinking, my feet led me toward the sand.
The beach was mostly empty, save for a few scattered figures walking along the shore. I slipped off my shoes, letting my toes sink into the sand as I walked aimlessly, my mind tangled in thoughts I didn't want to entertain.
Ten years.
Ten years since that summer.
Ten years since I last saw him.
And yet, he was here—forcing me to relive things I had buried deep.
I let out a heavy breath, wrapping my arms around myself. The ocean stretched endlessly before me, its dark surface shimmering under the moonlight. The sight was beautiful, calming even.
Until I heard footsteps behind me.
I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"Are you going to follow me everywhere now?" I asked, my voice carrying over the sound of the waves.
Eugene didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped beside me, his hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks.
"You always loved the beach," he finally said.
I scoffed. "And you didn't."
"I still don't," he admitted. "But I wanted to see if you were okay."
I turned to him then, narrowing my eyes. "Why would you care?"
He exhaled slowly. "Because I do."
Something in his voice made my chest tighten. But I couldn't allow myself to fall into old habits—into the dangerous trap of believing him.
"You lost that right a long time ago," I said firmly.
Eugene held my gaze for a moment before nodding. "I know."
He didn't say anything else. Neither did I.
We simply stood there, side by side, as the waves continued to crash against the shore.
And for the first time in years, I realized—
Some wounds never truly heal.