Chapter 76 Chapter 76
Chapter 76
Ethan arrived at work earlier than usual.
The building stood tall and calm, the glass reflecting the morning traffic and the city already awake. As he stepped out of his car, he paused for a brief second, adjusting his suit jacket, steadying himself. Work had always been his refuge. No emotions. No explanations. Just structure, control, and results.
The elevator ride to the fourth floor was smooth. When the doors opened, the first thing Ethan noticed was how normal everything looked again.
Too normal.
The fire accident had left its mark weeks ago burnt files, smoke-stained walls, disrupted routines. But now, the fourth floor looked reborn. Fresh paint. Clean floors. New furniture placed exactly where the old ones used to be. Even the scent was different. Not new, not artificial. Just clean.
His office door stood ahead, polished and solid.
Back to where it belonged.
Ethan walked in, placing his briefcase on the desk. Everything was arranged the way he liked it. The pen holder aligned perfectly. His laptop charged and ready. The window blinds adjusted just enough to let daylight in without distraction.
He loosened his tie slightly and exhaled.
This was good.
Outside, the floor slowly came alive. Soft footsteps. Low conversations. The quiet rhythm of a working day settling in.
And then, without trying to notice, he noticed her.
Celine.
She sat at her desk like she had never left. Hair neatly tied back, sleeves rolled just enough, eyes focused on her screen. Her fingers moved fast across the keyboard, efficient, calm, familiar.
Ethan paused longer than he should have.
She looked… fine.
Not trying to be seen. Not trying to hide either.
Just there.
As if the fire never happened. As if nothing had shaken the ground beneath them weeks ago.
She felt his presence before she saw him. She always did. Her typing slowed for half a second before she looked up.
Their eyes met.
No greeting.
No smile.
Just that brief moment where both of them seemed unsure what to do with themselves.
Celine was the first to look away.
Ethan nodded once and walked into his office.
The day moved forward.
Meetings stacked up. Calls came in back-to-back. Numbers, strategies, deadlines. Ethan slipped back into his role with ease, his voice firm, his mind sharp. Yet, every now and then, his attention drifted.
A file delivered to his desk.
“Sir,” Celine said, professional, steady.
“Thank you,” he replied, not looking up fast enough.
Their fingers almost touched.
Almost.
She pulled back quickly. He noticed.
Coincidence, he told himself.
Later, in the hallway, they reached the printer at the same time.
“Sorry,” they both said at once.
Celine smiled briefly, embarrassed. Ethan cleared his throat.
“Go ahead,” he said.
“No, it’s fine. You were here first,” she replied.
Another pause.
Another small moment that didn’t need to exist but did anyway.
During lunch, he saw her again near the elevator, phone pressed to her ear, laughing softly at something he couldn’t hear. It wasn’t loud or dramatic. Just real. The kind of laugh that slipped out without effort.
He didn’t realize he had slowed his steps until the elevator doors closed before he reached them.
The rest of the afternoon passed like that. Small overlaps. Shared spaces. Passing glances.
Nothing obvious.
Everything noticeable.
As the closing hour approached, the office grew quieter. Chairs slid back. Computers shut down. Goodbyes were exchanged.
Ethan finished reviewing a report and leaned back in his chair. His eyes moved to the glass wall separating his office from the rest of the floor.
Celine was packing her bag.
He hesitated.
This wasn’t him. He didn’t do casual. He didn’t blur lines. He didn’t ask things without purpose.
Yet his hand was already on the door handle.
“Celine,” he called.
She turned, surprised. “Yes, sir?”
He stepped out, hands in his pockets, posture calm but his mind anything but.
“Are you heading out?” he asked.
“Yes,” she nodded. “I just finished.”
There was a pause that stretched longer than needed.
“I—” Ethan stopped, cleared his throat. “I was wondering if you’re on Instagram.”
Celine blinked.
That wasn’t what she expected.
“Oh,” she said, caught off guard. “Yes. I am.”
He nodded, once again feeling strangely unsure. “If you don’t mind… I thought it might be easier to communicate sometimes. Work-related. Or… generally.”
Her cheeks warmed slightly.
“Sure,” she said quickly. “That’s fine.”
She unlocked her phone, fingers moving a little too fast now. She handed it to him.
Their hands brushed this time.
Not almost.
This time, it happened.
Both of them noticed. Neither mentioned it.
Ethan typed his name, saved it, then handed the phone back.
“Thank you,” he said.
She smiled, small but genuine. “You’re welcome.”
They stood there, neither rushing to leave.
“Well,” Ethan said finally, adjusting his jacket, “have a good evening.”
“You too, sir.”
He turned toward the elevator.
She watched him walk away, her grip tightening around her phone. Her screen lit up. A new notification.
Ethan Castellan followed you.
Her lips curved into a quiet smile she didn’t try to hide.
Outside, the building emptied slowly.
Ethan stepped into his car, resting his hands on the steering wheel before starting the engine. His phone buzzed.
A follow request accepted.
He stared at the screen for a moment longer than necessary, then set the phone aside and drove off.
Both of them left the building that evening carrying something new.
Nothing loud.
Nothing promised.
Just a simple connection that felt… unexpected.
And somehow, right.