Chapter 114 Chapter 114
Chapter 114
Celine didn’t plan the confrontation.
It wasn’t anger that pushed her toward Ethan’s desk that afternoon. It wasn’t jealousy or hurt or desperation. It was something quieter. Something steadier.
Confusion.
She was at her desk, a few feet from his, fingers paused over the keyboard. The office hummed around them soft typing, low voices, phones on silent. Normal sounds. But inside her head, everything felt off-key.
She looked up.
He was there, of course. Always there. Same distance as always. A few feet. Close enough to feel his presence. Far enough to make it ache.
She stood up slowly. No rush. No drama. Just a decision made quietly.
She walked the short distance to his desk.
Stopped beside it.
Ethan didn’t look up right away. His eyes were on his screen. But she saw the small shift—the way his shoulders tensed just a fraction, the way his typing slowed.
She waited.
He looked up.
His expression didn’t change. Calm. Controlled. Professional.
“Yes?” he asked.
Celine stood there, hands relaxed at her sides.
“I won’t take much of your time,” she said. Her voice was even. “I just wanted to ask something.”
Ethan nodded once. “Go ahead.”
She didn’t sit. Didn’t lean. Just stood, close enough that he had to tilt his head slightly to meet her eyes.
“Did I do something wrong?”
The question hung between them.
Ethan didn’t answer immediately. Not because he didn’t know what to say. Because he knew exactly what not to say.
“No,” he replied.
One word. Simple. Clean.
Celine waited, expecting more.
Nothing came.
She nodded once, slowly. “Okay.”
That was it.
No explanation. No follow-up. No concern.
She turned back toward her desk.
“Celine,” Ethan said.
She paused but didn’t turn around.
“Yes, sir?”
The word sir landed harder than she intended.
“You’re doing your job well,” he said. “There’s no issue.”
She turned then, meeting his eyes for the first time during the conversation.
“Thank you,” she said politely.
And that was when it happened.
The hurt.
Not sharp. Not loud.
Quiet. Settling.
Anger would have been easier. Coldness would have made sense. Even frustration would have felt honest.
But the lie?
That hurt more than anything else.
Because she knew him well enough now to recognize it.
She nodded again, then walked back to her desk.
Ethan watched her go.
His chest tightened, but his face stayed neutral. He told himself this was necessary. That honesty would only pull her deeper into something dangerous.
Still, something about the way she’d said sir stayed with him.
Celine returned to her desk and sat down.
Her hands moved automatically. She finished her tasks. Answered emails. Took calls.
Everything looked normal.
Inside, something shifted.
So that was it.
She hadn’t imagined it. She hadn’t misunderstood. And she hadn’t done anything wrong.
Which meant the distance was intentional.
She didn’t feel angry. She felt embarrassed.
She had let herself believe there was something there. A friendship. A connection. Something steady and real.
Apparently, she had been alone in that.
By the time the workday ended, her decision had already been made.
No more wondering.
No more caring.
No more letting his moods reach her.
If he wanted professional distance, she would give him exactly that.
Ethan noticed the change immediately.
She didn’t avoid him.
She didn’t hesitate around him either.
She was efficient. Polite. Detached.
Perfect.
And somehow, worse.
When she left that evening, she didn’t glance toward his desk. Didn’t slow her steps. Didn’t look back.
Ethan stood near his desk, watching her cross the office.
Something about her posture was different. Straighter. Closed.
She had accepted his lie.
And built a wall with it.
Celine’s SUV arrived right on time, just like it always did.
She stepped out of the building without rushing, her heels clicking softly against the pavement. The driver was already outside, holding the door open. She nodded at him and slid into the back seat, the leather cool against her skin.
“Evening,” she said out of habit, her voice calm, almost distant.
The driver replied politely. The security officer sat in the front passenger seat, phone in hand, his attention split between the screen and the road ahead.
The door shut. The car moved.
Everything felt normal. Too normal.
The road stretched ahead, familiar turns, familiar traffic lights, the same shops she passed every day. This drive had become routine, something she never thought about. It was the one part of her day that never asked anything from her.
She leaned her head against the seat and let her eyes close for a moment.
She didn’t want to think.
She told herself she was fine.
She told herself she was overreacting.
She told herself this was exactly what she wanted space, clarity and control.
Yet her chest felt strange, like something inside her hadn’t settled properly. Not pain. Just discomfort she couldn’t explain.
The car slowed as they approached an intersection.
Her eyes opened halfway. She watched the red light ahead, the familiar billboard on the corner, the street vendor packing up for the evening. Ordinary things. Safe things.
Then everything shifted.
A horn blared — loud, angry and too close.
Her heart jumped before her mind caught up.
“Driver—” the security officer started.
There was no time.
The impact came fast. Not brutal, but forceful enough to steal her breath. The sound of metal scraping against metal cut through the air. The SUV jerked hard to the side. Glass rattled violently.
Celine’s body was thrown forward despite the seatbelt pulling her back. Her shoulder slammed into the door. Her head struck the side frame with a sharp, blinding pain.
A gasp tore from her throat.
The world spun.
Her vision blurred, shapes bleeding into each other. She heard shouting, but the words didn’t make sense. The sound felt far away, like it was coming from underwater.
Her fingers twitched uselessly in her lap. She tried to move, to speak, but her body didn’t respond the way it should have.
Her thoughts scattered.
For a brief second, something small and painfully human crossed her mind — Ethan.
Not anger. Not blame.
Just his name, appearing out of nowhere.
Her ears rang. The noise around her faded in and out. She felt warm, then cold, then nothing at all.
“Celine!” the security officer shouted, his voice cracking as he twisted around in his seat. “Celine, talk to me!”
She wanted to answer.
She wanted to tell him she was awake.
She wanted to say she was fine, that this was nothing, that she would walk it off like she always did.
But her eyelids felt too heavy.
Her head lolled to the side, resting awkwardly against the seat. The edges of her vision darkened, closing in slowly.
The last thing she registered was panic in the security officer’s voice, sharp and urgent, calling her name again and again.
Then even that disappeared.
And everything went dark.
When awareness returned, it came in fragments.
A voice. Distant.
“Sir… yes… there’s been an accident.”
The security officer’s hands shook as he held the phone. The driver was slumped forward, unconscious but breathing.
Celine lay still in the back seat, her head turned to the side. Blood trickled faintly near her temple.
“She collapsed,” the officer said urgently. “We’re calling emergency services now.
”
There was silence on the other end of the line.
Then—
“Where?” Ethan’s voice came through.
Ethan’s phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor.
The sound echoed through his office.
For a moment, he didn’t move.
Then he grabbed his keys.
And ran.