Chapter 5

Cassey (P.O.V)

Days blurred into weeks. It was my fifth week as Andrea's assistant, and the surprising thing was, she never once mentioned our past. It was as if it had never happened. A strange mix of relief and disappointment settled within me. Relief that I didn't have to constantly navigate the minefield of our shared history, and disappointment that… well, I wasn't sure why. A part of me, a foolish, stubborn part, wanted Andrea to acknowledge it, to explain, to apologize. But she hadn't. We had fallen into a predictable boss-employee routine, a dance of polite interactions and unspoken tensions.

Mondays were for paperwork, endless stacks of it, answering her calls, and the ritual of bringing her lattes. Tuesdays meant visits to the apartments, showing them off to potential buyers, answering more calls, and, of course, more lattes. Wednesdays were contract days, pouring over drafts, highlighting mistakes and then back to answering more calls. Thursdays mirrored Tuesdays, taking buyers to see the apartments again and solidifying their purchases. Fridays were for general staff meetings, crafting marketing emails and trying to get new buyers. It was a cycle I was getting to enjoy and look forward to. My life had become a symphony of paperwork, property tours, and caffeine.

But today was different. I couldn't wait to clock out and enjoy my night. Tonight was my six-month anniversary with Tommy. Six months. It felt both like an eternity and a blink of an eye. My boyfriend was wonderful. Patient, kind, everything Andrea wasn't. He was also incredibly romantic, and I always looked forward to his thoughtful gestures. They made me feel cherished. I knew Tommy had something special planned for our anniversary and the thought of it made me smile.

I had a surprise for him too. I'd bought him a watch, a sleek, sophisticated one that I hoped he'd love. It was a small token of my appreciation, a symbol of my growing feelings for him.

I glanced over at Andrea. She looked distracted, staring at something in her hand as her brow furrowed in concentration. She looked so lost. A strange pang of something I couldn't quite define shot through me. Was it sympathy? No, I was simply curious? I quickly dismissed the thought. I had my own life to focus on, my own happiness to pursue.

"Everything alright, Ma'am Andrea?" I asked carefully.

She looked up, startled, as if I'd pulled her from a deep reverie. "Yes, fine," she replied with her voice a little too sharp. As if noticing my stare, she quickly tucked whatever she was holding into her desk drawer.

"Just checking," I said, turning back to my computer. I hesitated for a moment, then a mischievous impulse took over. Maybe it was spite, maybe my subconscious desire to show Andrea that I, too, had someone special in my life. Or maybe it was just me being petty.

"I have a date tonight," I said casually, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's my six-month anniversary with my boyfriend."

Andrea's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Oh," she said, her voice flat. "That's nice."

"Yeah," I replied with a small smile playing on my lips. "He's… amazing. Really romantic." I paused, then added, "He's planned something special for us."

Andrea just nodded, her gaze returning to her computer screen. "Well, have a good time," she said, her voice dismissive.

I bit back a retort. "I will," I said sweetly. "I'm really looking forward to it."

A strange tension filled the air between us. I could feel Andrea's eyes on me, even though she pretended to be focused on her work. I knew she was listening, that she was taking in every word. And a small part of me reveled in it. Maybe, just maybe, this would remind her that I was moving on, that I had a life beyond this office, beyond our shared past. That she would finally see that she had no hold over me.

~~~~~~

Andrea (P.O. V)

I stood at the kitchen island, gripping my wine glass a little too tightly. The warmth of the alcohol had already settled in my veins, dulling the sharp edges of my thoughts, but it wasn't enough. Tilting my head back, I gulped down the remainder of my drink before reaching for the bottle. The liquid sloshed against the glass as I poured too much, almost to the rim, but I didn't care. The Cabernet Sauvignon, usually a comfort, felt inadequate tonight.

With a deep sigh, I glanced to the side, my gaze landing on the blue box sitting near the edge of the marble counter. White butterfly prints covered its surface, a soft contrast against the cool, smooth stone. I had kept it. After all these years, I had still kept it. A treasure trove of stolen moments, whispered promises, and the ghost of a love that still haunted me.

I let out a slow breath and reached for the box, pulling it closer until my fingers rested on the lid. My forehead pressed against the smooth surface, and I closed my eyes for a brief moment. Cassey was back. After all this time, after all the unresolved emotions, she had walked right back into my life.

And I had no idea what to do.

Slowly pulling away, I lifted the lid, my heart tightening as the past rushed back in, a bittersweet ache. The first thing I saw was a photograph sitting on top of the pile, its edges slightly worn from the number of times I had traced my fingers over it. Cassey's face stared back at me, frozen in time, her smile wide and carefree. We had been happy then, so young, so reckless and so in love.

I picked up the picture, my thumb brushing over her face. God, how had I let her slip away? What had I been thinking? I was selfish, impulsive and I had walked away.

A lump formed in my throat as I hugged the photograph to my chest, closing my eyes. The memory was so clear, so painfully vivid. Our laughter echoing and the taste of stolen kisses under the beautiful starry sky. The whispered secrets still sung in my ear as well as our shared dreams of a future together.

Now, all that was lost. Cassey hated me. So much that she'd erased our past from her life.

The vibration of my phone shattered the moment, pulling me back to the harsh reality of the present.

I opened my eyes, blinking against the tears. I set the photo down and reached for my phone. The lit screen felt like a stab to my gut as I read Blake's message from Blake.

'Thinking of you, love. I miss you my love'

I exhaled sharply, rubbing my forehead. What was I doing? Blake didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to be with someone who couldn't even let go of the past. He was good to me, kind, supportive. But even as I thought the words, my gaze drifted back to the photograph, like it had this magnetic pull I couldn't resist.

Why couldn't I look away? Why was it still her? Why did Cassey still have such a hold on me?

I swallowed hard, shoving the picture back into the box and snapping the lid shut. My hands trembled as I pushed the box away, as if that simple action could erase the weight of everything I was feeling. But it didn't. I was loosing it. So much I had carried the photo to the office today.

When I had seen Cassey's name on the list of applicants, I had known it had to be her. And in a blink of an eye, I had made a decision.

We had to reconnect. The years away from her had felt like one to many. I missed her.

For closure, for understanding, for something I still couldn't name. A chance to right the wrongs of the past. A chance… for what? I wasn't sure. Reconciliation? Forgiveness? Maybe another chance at love?

No.

I pushed the thought away, a bitter taste rising in my throat. This kind of love was a dangerous game, one I wasn't sure I was willing to play again.

Knowing her, Cassey would never forgive me. Maybe she would never look at me the way she used to.

But having her near, even if she pretended to have forgotten everything we had been, was enough. Just seeing her daily, being in her presence, was enough.

I only hoped that, in time, the pain between us would soften. Time healed all wounds, didn't it? Especially the ones of the heart. I took another sip of wine, the liquid burning a path down my throat.

Anniversary date

The thought echoed in my mind, unbidden and unwelcome. She was with her boyfriend. The image of them together, laughing, holding hands, sent a sharp pang of jealousy through me, a burning sensation in my chest that I couldn't ignore. Why did it bother me so much? Why did the thought of her with someone else sting so sharply? Was it jealousy? The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I was jealous.

The wine suddenly tasted like ash in my mouth. I hated this feeling. I hated the way it made me feel, possessive, angry, and utterly helpless. What was I supposed to do with this? I didn't know. All I knew was that knowing Cassey was out there, with him, was tearing me apart.

I needed to focus. I needed to figure out what I wanted, what I was willing to risk. And most importantly, I needed to figure out how to navigate this treacherous new dynamic with Cassey. Why was I always lost and so untethered when it came to her.

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