That I left you back then

Severa's POV

Two months.

That was how long it took for everything to stabilize.

After transferring the funds to Eugene, the construction site finally ran on schedule. The steel beams arrived within days, followed by the other missing materials. The foundation was reinforced, and the structure began taking shape. It wasn't perfect—some minor delays and on-site issues still popped up—but we were moving forward.

Meanwhile, Eugene was nowhere to be found.

Not literally, of course—I knew exactly where he was.

He had gone back to the city, diving headfirst into fixing the catastrophe that nearly destroyed ED Corp. He spent weeks dealing with the fallout of his best friend's betrayal, unraveling the mess that had been left behind. I heard about the lawsuit, the freezing of assets, and how his company's reputation was dragged through hell.

I heard about how he personally reported his best friend to the police.

And I heard about how, despite it all, he was fighting to keep ED Corp alive.

Not that I reached out.

Not even once.

I stayed at the construction site, focusing on my work while Eugene handled his own. My days were spent with engineers, suppliers, and foremen. My nights? Spent alone in my hotel room, reviewing reports, signing off on orders, and making sure nothing else went wrong.

I told myself I didn't care what happened to Eugene.

But deep down, I knew that wasn't entirely true.

Because for two months, I waited.

And then, just when I had almost convinced myself that I wouldn't see him again—he showed up.

—

It was late afternoon when I saw his car pull up near the project office.

The black SUV parked smoothly, its tinted windows concealing its driver. At first, I thought it was a supplier or an investor—someone coming in for a site check.

But then the door opened.

And out stepped Eugene Dominguez.

He looked… different.

Still sharp in his dress shirt and slacks, still composed and put together. But there was something else—something in the way he carried himself now.

A weight.

A kind of exhaustion that no amount of sleep could fix.

He had always been a man who thrived under pressure, who had a solution for every problem, who never let anything shake him.

But now?

Now, he looked like a man who had spent two months crawling out of the wreckage of his own life.

And he had survived.

For a brief moment, neither of us moved.

He stood by his car, his gaze locked onto mine across the distance. And I? I stood frozen in place, my clipboard suddenly feeling heavier in my grip.

Then, finally, he started walking toward me.

And I waited.

I waited as he crossed the construction site, ignoring the glances from the workers around us. I waited as he closed the distance between us, stopping just close enough for me to see the tension in his jaw.

When he was finally in front of me, I crossed my arms.

"Took you long enough," I said.

Eugene let out a small huff of laughter. "Yeah. I guess it did."

I raised a brow. "Is everything fixed now? Your company? The lawsuit?"

His jaw tightened before he exhaled, his voice even. "It's handled. My former best friend is in jail. My company is stable again."

"And you?"

That made him pause.

His dark eyes flickered with something unreadable—something raw, something vulnerable.

"I'm still standing," he finally said.

A slow smirk tugged at my lips. "That's an improvement."

He scoffed but didn't argue.

Silence stretched between us, thick with something unspoken.

Then, finally, he spoke again.

"I owe you, Severa."

I tilted my head slightly. "I know."

"And I'm going to pay you back. Soon."

"You better," I said. "With interest."

His lips twitched, but he nodded.

Another pause.

And then—softer, quieter—he said, "I didn't forget."

I frowned. "Forget what?"

Eugene's gaze drifted, scanning the site before settling back on me.

"That I left you," he murmured. "Back then."

My stomach twisted.

Of all the things he could have brought up, he chose this?

I kept my face neutral. "And?"

"And I know I have no right to ask, but…" He hesitated. "Are you okay?"

The question caught me off guard.

I wasn't sure why.

Maybe because we never talked about it.

Maybe because I thought we would never need to talk about it.

Maybe because it had been years since I let myself care.

But he was asking.

And I had no idea how to answer.

So instead, I looked at him—really looked at him.

At the exhaustion beneath his sharp gaze.

At the barely-there tension in his shoulders.

At the quiet sincerity in his voice.

I could have lied.

I could have told him I was fine, that I didn't care, that I had moved on.

But something about this moment—about him standing in front of me again after all these years—made it impossible.

Instead, I inhaled slowly, my voice steady.

"I don't know."

Eugene stilled.

I don't think he expected me to say that.

Hell, I didn't expect me to say that.

But I meant it.

Because the truth was, I didn't know if I was okay.

I had spent years burying the past, convincing myself that what happened between us was over and done with.

But now?

Now, he was here.

Now, he had lost everything.

Now, he had been betrayed the same way he once betrayed me.

And suddenly, the past didn't feel so distant anymore.

Eugene exhaled, his gaze flickering with something I couldn't quite place.

"Fair enough," he said quietly.

I studied him for a long moment before glancing away.

"Are you staying long?" I asked, shifting the conversation.

"Depends."

"On?"

Eugene's lips quirked slightly.

"On whether or not you'll let me."

I blinked, caught off guard by the honesty in his voice.

I didn't respond right away.

Because for the first time in years, I didn't know what I wanted.