"Uh… Val—it's…"

The words barely made it out of my throat. My mind scrambled for something—anything—that didn't sound like a confession, an excuse, or a plea for divine intervention.

She stood in the doorway, still holding that food flask like it was some kind of evidence. For a moment, I thought she'd say something sharp or storm out or—God forbid—throw the flask. But she didn't.

Instead, she took a slow, steady breath. The kind she only took when she was trying not to explode.

Then she started walking toward us.

Her heels clicked against the tile, each step deliberate. My pulse thudded in time with them. Tasha straightened beside me, unsure of what to do, her hand still resting on the lid of the flask she'd brought.

Val reached the desk, set her flask down—right next to Tasha's—and then turned to her with the kind of calm smile that should've terrified anyone paying attention.

> "You must be the team leader."

Tasha blinked. It took her a second to respond, like she was still processing what was happening. "Uh—yeah. Tasha."

Val extended a hand, her smile unwavering. "Celestia."

The handshake lasted a little too long to be polite. Val's grip wasn't tight, but it didn't need to be. The confidence in her eyes did the rest.

When they finally let go, Tasha's gaze—almost involuntarily—dropped to Val's left hand.

The ring caught the light perfectly.

Val noticed. Of course she did. Her lips curved slightly, and she lifted her hand a little, tilting it so the ring shone more clearly.

"Oh, this little thing?" she said, tone feather-light, every syllable dipped in sweetness. "My husband got it for me. Cute, isn't it?"

The silence that followed was thick enough to chew on.

Tasha's jaw tightened, just barely, before she gave a polite nod. "It's… nice."

Her eyes flicked toward me for the briefest second—just enough to sting—before she said, "I'll, uh… leave you guys to talk."

I opened my mouth to say something, anything to smooth over the situation, but Val was still smiling.

The kind of smile that said don't interfere.

So, I didn't.

Tasha turned to leave, already clutching the strap of her bag, but before she made it to the door, Val's voice came again.

> "Ms. Team Leader?"

Tasha froze mid-step, shoulders stiffening before she slowly turned around.

Val gestured lazily toward the desk with one finger, her tone light and innocent. "You're forgetting something."

Tasha's eyes followed the gesture—to the food flask she'd left behind.

For a second, she just stood there, like she was debating pretending she didn't hear. But Val didn't blink. Her smile didn't falter.

If anything, it deepened, eyes narrowing just a touch—like a lion stretching before the pounce.

Tasha walked back slowly. She picked up the flask, her fingers gripping it tighter than necessary. When she straightened, her gaze met Val's.

Neither blinked.

Val's smirk widened ever so slightly, the kind of expression that didn't need words to say I could do worse than this. Much worse.

Tasha exhaled through her nose, looked down, and muttered, "Right." Then she turned and walked out the door.

The second it closed, silence crashed over the room.

I blinked. Once then twice. Trying to piece together what just happened.

Val had just… neutralized an entire emotional bomb in less than two minutes—without raising her voice, without a single insult, without even sounding remotely upset.

She'd just... handled it. Completely.

And now she was standing there, her back straight, shoulders squared, her expression unreadable.

Then—slowly—she turned her head toward me.

The smile was gone.

In its place was a look that could only be described as sharp. Not furious. Not explosive. Just sharp enough to slice straight through whatever weak excuse I might've been planning.

"Val…" I started, my voice careful.

She didn't say anything.

She just stared.

It wasn't the glare of someone about to scream—it was the look of someone thinking. Calculating. The kind that meant she wasn't going to react right away. And that was somehow a lot scarier.

I opened my mouth again, but the words stuck in my throat.

Because what could I say?

That it wasn't what it looked like? That would sound cliché. That I didn't expect Tasha to bring food? Also true, but weak.

I looked down at the food flask sitting on my desk, still sealed and perfect.

Val finally spoke, her voice calm, too calm. "You've had... quite a morning, haven't you?"

I swallowed. "Val it's not..."

Her eyes softened for barely a second.

"I'll let you enjoy your lunch," she said quietly. "Wouldn't want to interrupt… whatever this was."

She turned away and walked out the door.

I exhaled, running a hand down my face. My heart was still pounding, and I wasn't even sure which part had shaken me more—Tasha's unexpected move or Val's terrifyingly composed reaction.

But now she was gone.

And judging by the look she'd given me before she walked out, I had a feeling the real explosion was just waiting for me at home.

---

I sat there long after she'd walked out, the air in the office heavy enough to drown in. My appetite was gone, but the sight of the flask she'd brought, still sitting there on my desk made it worse. It wasn't just any flask — it was one of those set types, the kind that came in tiers, meant for full meals, not just quick bites. The kind you only used when you really put time and effort into it. And knowing Val… she definitely had.

I stared at it for a long time before finally reaching for the lid. Steam curled up immediately, carrying the familiar scent of sautéed garlic and butter — her scent.

She'd made stir-fried noodles with shrimp, perfectly arranged with slices of egg roll on the side. The smaller flask held soup — light miso, I guessed from the smell — and the last one had fruit she'd cut into neat cubes, each wrapped with care like it mattered.

It hit me then, how deliberate it all was. She'd already been up early this morning, already gone out of her way to make things feel normal between us. And after all that, she'd still taken the time to come all the way here — just to see me, just to be close. And somehow, I'd managed to make her look like the uninvited one in the middle of a misunderstanding she didn't even create.

The guilt came fast, then shame, then something heavier that made my chest feel tight. I hadn't even taken a bite yet, and somehow it already hurt.

Still, not eating would make things worse. So I picked up the chopsticks, twirled some noodles, and took a bite.

And that was it.

The taste, it was good. Too good. Perfect seasoning, balanced texture, a hint of lemon she only used when she was trying to make something "refreshing." It wasn't just food; it was Val.

I let out a low sigh, chewing slowly, hating how hungry I actually was. Somehow, that made me feel even worse than I already felt. Because it meant I could still enjoy this even when I'd just seen the disappointment in her eyes.

When I was done, I leaned back in my chair and stared at the flask. My thumb hovered over my phone screen — her name glowing at the top of my recent calls.

I wanted to call. I wanted to explain. But what could I even say? "Sorry you walked in on my team leader trying to feed me"? Yeah, that'd fix everything.

I checked the time instead. Lunch break would be over in five minutes. I sighed, locked the phone, and set it face down.

Tasha didn't say another word to me for the rest of the day. No instructions. No questions. Not even the occasional work-related chatter she usually threw in between tasks. It was silent. That made it both easier and harder.

Easier, because I didn't have to deal with her.

Harder, because the tension sat like smoke in the air — invisible, but impossible to ignore.

Even Derrick seemed to notice something was off but he didn't push.

By the time the clock hit closing, the office was mostly empty. I powered down my computer, staring at the dark screen a little too long, trying to figure out what I'd even say when I saw Val again.

"Hey," I said finally, glancing at Derrick. "Could you, uh… give me a ride to the nearest bus stop?"

He frowned. "What happened to your billionaire ride service?"

"Ha-ha. Very funny."

He chuckled. "I'm serious though, what happened to your ride? They bail on you already?"

I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck. "Something like that."

As I picked up my briefcase, I risked a glance toward Tasha's desk — only to find her looking right at me. She didn't even pretend to look away this time. Her expression was unreadable, somewhere between guilt and something else I couldn't name.

"Ready?" Derrick asked, clapping me on the shoulder.

"Yeah."

We walked out together. The parking lot was quieter than usual — the kind of quiet that made your thoughts louder.

Derrick unlocked his car with a beep, and I was just about to reach for the door when I heard the low hum of an engine.

A sleek Aston Martin eased into the lot, the headlights cutting through the twilight. My chest tightened the moment I saw it.

Val.

She parked neatly in front of us, engine purring low before shutting off.

Derrick whistled. "Damn. Guess your ride changed their mind."

I forced a smile. "Yeah. Guess so."

He grinned, slapping my back. "You're living the dream, man. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah… see you."

He drove off, leaving me there, standing in the fading light.

Val didn't get out of the car. She just sat there, hands on the wheel, staring straight ahead. Through the windshield, I could see her expression — calm, composed, unreadable.

And I froze.

Because for all the words I'd prepared — every apology, every explanation — none of them seemed enough.

I'd seen Val angry before. Seen her cry, seen her frustrated. But this?

This quiet stillness — this silence — was worse than all of it.

I stood there, watching her.

As the last few cars left the lot, I realized something I didn't want to admit —

I'd rather she yelled. I'd rather she slammed the door, or called me out, or did anything that broke the silence between us.

Because silence meant distance.

And for the first time in a long time, I couldn't tell how to bridge it.

So I just stood there.

Watching her.

And waiting.

---

To be continued...

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