I know I hurt you

Severa's POV

The days at the construction site passed in a blur of meetings, inspections, and constant progress updates. With the project now back on track, the tension that once loomed over everyone had gradually lifted. The structure of the resort mall was beginning to take shape, and every time I looked at it, I felt a deep sense of accomplishment.

Eugene and I still worked together, maintaining a professional distance. After everything that had happened—the betrayal of his business partner, the money I lent him, and the unspoken history between us—we seemed to have settled into an unspoken agreement: focus on the project, nothing else.

But there were still moments.

Little moments when I'd catch him staring from across the site. When our hands would brush against each other while reviewing plans. When the silence between us held something heavier than words. But I ignored it. I told myself that it was nothing, that it didn't mean anything.

Until one night, everything changed.

I was in my hotel room, reviewing some notes on my laptop when my phone buzzed. Eugene's name flashed on the screen.

For a second, I hesitated before answering. "Hello?"

"Busy?" His voice was calm, but there was something different in his tone.

I glanced at the piles of documents still waiting for my review. "Kind of."

"Then you should take a break," he said smoothly. "Let's have dinner."

I blinked. "Dinner?"

"Yes," he said simply, as if it wasn't a strange request. As if we weren't still walking on thin ice.

I sat back against my chair, exhaling slowly. "Why?"

Eugene chuckled, and I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "Do I need a reason to ask you to dinner?"

I frowned. "Yes. You do."

There was silence on the other end, then, "Fine. You helped me, Severa. I never properly thanked you."

I didn't answer right away. He had already said his thanks before, but something about the way he was saying it now felt... different.

"Just one dinner," he added. "No business talk. No project discussions."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I knew I should say no. I knew that letting my guard down—even for one night—was a mistake. But against my better judgment, I heard myself say, "Okay. Where?"

"I'll pick you up in ten minutes," he said, then ended the call before I could change my mind.

Eugene was already waiting outside my door when I stepped out. He had changed into a dark button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, looking far more casual than I was used to seeing him.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded, and we walked to the hotel parking lot together. Since we were both staying in the same place, it made sense to take one car. Eugene drove, the ride mostly quiet except for the soft hum of the radio in the background.

The restaurant he took me to was in a small, quiet part of town. Unlike the usual formal business dinners we had in the past, this place was cozy, warm, with soft yellow lighting and the scent of grilled seafood in the air.

We sat in a corner booth, and for the first few minutes, it was... strange. Not tense, not awkward, but unfamiliar. We had been in countless dinners together before—back when we were something more—but this was different. This time, we weren't pretending to be strangers, yet we weren't the same as before either.

"So," I finally said, breaking the silence. "You wanted to thank me."

Eugene leaned back, a small smirk on his lips. "Yes. And I figured the least I could do was feed you. You work too much."

I scoffed. "That's rich coming from you."

He laughed, and for a moment, the sound made me forget everything else. It was the same laugh I remembered—warm, genuine, making me feel things I didn't want to feel.

The waiter arrived, and we ordered. I stuck to something simple, but Eugene, being Eugene, ordered enough food to feed four people.

I raised a brow. "Planning to eat all that?"

"Maybe." He grinned. "Or maybe I just want to make sure you actually eat."

I rolled my eyes but smiled despite myself.

As we ate, the conversation shifted. We talked about work, but not in the usual stressful way. He told me about the legal process he had to go through with his former business partner, about how frustrating it was to rebuild everything from scratch.

"It's funny," he mused, swirling his glass of wine. "You spend years trusting someone, building something together, and then one day, it's gone. Just like that."

I knew he wasn't just talking about business.

I took a slow sip of my drink, my fingers tightening around the glass. "People change," I said quietly. "Or maybe they were never who we thought they were."

Eugene watched me carefully. "Is that what you think about me?"

I looked at him, meeting his gaze. "You tell me."

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us was heavy, filled with all the things we never said.

Then Eugene exhaled and set his glass down. "I know I hurt you, Severa."

I swallowed. I hadn't expected him to say it so directly.

"But if I could go back and change things, I would," he continued, his voice quieter now. "I should've fought for you harder."

My chest tightened, but I kept my expression unreadable. "The past is the past, Eugene."

He studied me for a long moment before nodding. "Yeah. It is."

The rest of dinner was quieter. Less tense, but still filled with that lingering, unspoken thing between us.

When we left the restaurant, the night air was crisp. Eugene opened the car door for me, and we drove back to the hotel in silence.

By the time we reached our floor, I was already reaching for my key when Eugene suddenly spoke.

"Severa."

I turned around.

He looked at me for a long moment before shaking his head with a small smile. "Never mind. Goodnight."

Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten.

I nodded. "Goodnight, Eugene."

I stepped into my room, closing the door behind me. But even as I leaned against it, exhaling slowly, I knew one thing for sure.

This wasn't over. Not yet.