Chapter 53 Chapter 53
Chapter 53
Monday morning arrived as if nothing unusual had happened over the weekend. The company buzzed with its usual noise phones ringing, heels clicking on the floors, printers working nonstop but inside Ethan Castellan’s office, there was a strange, quiet distance sitting between two people who weren’t sure how to face each other.
Celine walked in exactly at 8:00am, carrying files pressed tightly to her chest. Her steps were hurried, her face plain, almost blank. She greeted him the same way she greeted every doorman and cleaner.
“Good morning, Mr. Castellan.”
She didn’t even look at him. She just said it and sat down immediately, eyes fixed on her screen, the way a student tries not to catch a teacher’s eye.
.
Ethan stared at her longer than he should.
He didn’t know what he expected. Maybe a normal greeting. Maybe a smile. Or maybe… something warm. But she didn’t even lift her head. She typed as if her life depended on it. She touched her papers as if she was scared of touching air.
He leaned on his chair, trying to read a report, but his attention kept shifting back to her. She was acting like he wasn’t there. Like he didn’t exist. Like the weekend never happened. Like he didn’t sleep for the first time in a year with his head on her lap.
His fingers tightened slightly around the pen he held.
Why should it bother him anyway?
It was nothing.
Just sleep.
Nothing more.
He told himself that again and again. But every time he told himself that, he found his eyes drifting back to her. She typed too fast, almost aggressively, like she didn’t want to give her thoughts any chance to wander.
The whole day went on like that.
He finished meetings, came back. She didn’t look at him.
He asked for a document, she walked over, dropped it on his desk gently, and returned to her seat without a word. She didn’t even wait to be asked anything else.
When lunch hour came, she left before he even stood up from his chair.
He stared at the empty space she left behind like an idiot waiting for someone who didn’t send a message.
By evening, he had already developed a small frustration he couldn’t explain. Not anger just irritation wrapped with curiosity. And something else he wasn’t ready to admit.
At exactly 6:00pm, closing hour, she gathered her things. Her hands shook slightly, which only made Ethan stare harder. Was she nervous? Embarrassed? Afraid he would talk about last night? He didn’t even know what he would have said himself.
He watched her carefully, saying nothing, but hoping she’d look at him just once. She didn’t. She arranged her files like a robot. She didn’t even tuck a hair behind her ear, because that would give her face a reason to turn even slightly toward him.
She was done within seconds.
“Goodnight, Mr. Castellan,” she said firmly, without lifting her head.
He parted his lips slightly, but no words came out.
He wanted to say something he just didn’t know what.
“Goodnight,” he eventually murmured, but she had already walked out and didn’t hear him.
He stayed still for a moment, questioning why his chest suddenly felt like he missed something he never had.
He finally grabbed his keys and stepped out. He didn’t rush, but his steps somehow ended up behind hers as they reached the elevator. The doors opened and only the two of them stepped in.
She pressed the ground floor button quickly, almost too quickly, and retreated to the corner like she wanted to shrink into the wall.
Ethan stood on the other side. Normally, he would have taken out his phone, pretended to reply to messages, acted like nothing mattered. But today he just stood there, hands in his pockets, staring at the silver elevator door. His reflection looked confused.
He glanced at her reflection too..
Celine stared fixedly at the numbers blinking above the door. She didn’t blink. She didn’t breathe too loudly. She didn’t even move her arms. She held her bag tightly like she was holding a secret hostage.
Her reflection wouldn’t meet his reflection.
He didn’t know why that made his pulse jump a little.
Why was she acting like this?
Why did he care?
Why couldn’t he just ask?
The elevator moved slowly, or maybe it only felt slow because of the tension sitting between them like an extra passenger. Ethan swallowed, debating with himself in silence. He wanted to say something. Anything.
“Are you avoiding me?”
No. That would sound too personal.
“About last night…”
No. That sounded worse.
“Did you change your route to work?”
What type of stupid question was that?
So he said nothing.
They reached the ground floor. She practically rushed out of the elevator like she had been trapped in a box with a lion.
He watched her walk ahead without looking back, and he stood there for a second before following at a slower pace.
Outside the building, she waved down a cab. She didn’t look at him, didn’t say goodbye, didn’t even turn her head slightly. The cab stopped, she got in, door closed, and she left.
He exhaled and rubbed his jaw once in irritation.
Why was this bothering h
im?
He didn’t have the answer. But he knew one thing—
He didn’t like being treated like he wasn’t there.
And for someone he barely spoke to, Celine suddenly mattered enough to annoy him.
He turned and headed to his car, confused at himself more than anything else.