Chapter 2 The Unspoken Shift

Aurora sat at her desk, back straight, hands moving mechanically over her keyboard. Around her, the office hummed with its usual rhythm, phones ringing, fingers typing,and heels clicking across the marble floor. But inside her, everything had changed.

All she could think of was her last visit to Damon's office, the indifference in his voice, and the cold stare she got from him. How could a human being be so cold?

Did he take her for a random girl, or was he just plain mean? Even though she wanted that silence, and she repeatedly told herself it was better this way, she still could not fathom how someone could be so cold.

She had expected awkwardness after their conversation. Silence. Avoidance. But Damon Windsor did not even blink when they passed in the hall again that afternoon. Not a glance. Not a twitch of recognition.

Good.

She did not want attention. She wanted to stay invisible.

But that did not explain the new way people looked at her.

Especially Tania from HR.

The glances were quick but noticeable, curious, judgmental, speculative. Aurora shook it off. Maybe she was imagining it. Maybe it was guilt playing tricks on her, making her paranoid.

She refocused on the quarterly notes. Numbers did not ask questions. Reports did not judge. Work was safe. It was the only part of her life she could still control, the only part that still made sense.

But her mind kept drifting.

She had not slept well. Every time she closed her eyes, flashes of that night came rushing back, the feel of his breath, the sound of his voice, the weight of a decision she didn't even realize she was making.

It had been a mistake.

She knew that.

So why did it haunt her?

Why could she not erase those memories?

At noon, she escaped to the rooftop.

It had become her secret spot months ago. The top floor was mostly storage and forgotten corners, no one cared about the lonely rooftop exit tucked behind the last door. It was quiet there. No judgment. No pressure.

She leaned against the metal railing and took a deep breath. The city buzzed beneath her, cars, people, and life. All of it moving forward while she felt stuck in a pause.

Her phone buzzed.

It was a message from her mom.

"Don't forget we need groceries tonight. And your dad's medicine."

As if she weren't already carrying enough.

It felt like the universe was determined to remind her she had no room to break down.

Aurora turned off her phone and stared at the clouds.

Her parents loved her, but their love came with expectations she could never meet. She was the responsible one, the child who never rebelled, the one who got good grades and never asked for anything.

And now... she had a secret that would tear it all apart.

She did not know it yet. But something inside her already felt it.

Back at her desk, she returned to work. Damon had not contacted her again. No emails. No side glances. Not even a post-meeting comment.

Maybe he had forgotten.

Or maybe he was just really good at pretending.

Either way, she was relieved.

Until 4:37 p.m.

When an email pinged into her inbox:

Subject: RE: Summary Drafts

From: Damon Windsor

Message: "See me before you leave. DW."

Her stomach dropped.

Not again.

The last meeting was still fresh in her mind, and it had taken her all weekend to push it into a corner she could ignore.

She waited until 6:00, when most of the office had emptied. She did not want anyone seeing her go in there, especially not Tania or the interns who acted like Damon's last name was royalty.

She knocked lightly, just like before.

"Come in."

He was at his desk again, but this time he looked up instantly.

He studied her for a second, maybe a little too long.

"You've been quiet," he said.

"I figured that's what you wanted."

He leaned back in his chair. "You always assume what people want?"

She frowned, unsure where this was going. "What's this about, sir?"

Damon sighed. "I didn't call you in here for work."

Her throat tightened.

"Then why?"

"Because I need to know something. And I'd rather hear it from you than from someone else."

She stood perfectly still. "I don't understand."

He opened a drawer and pulled out a slim silver object, a compact security USB drive.

Her blood ran cold.

He slid it across the table.

"I have access to all internal footage," he said. "Elevator cams. Lobby. Hallways."

She looked at the drive. Then back at him.

"Did you watch it?"

"I haven't yet. I wanted to give you a chance to talk."

Aurora's voice dropped. "What do you think happened?"

"I think we both made a mistake," Damon said carefully. "But I need to know... if you regret it. If you felt..."

"Used?" she cut in. "Taken advantage of?"

"No," he said firmly. "If you felt like it mattered."

She went still.

For a moment, the entire office, its marble floors, its gleaming windows, the weight of power and money, all of it vanished. It was just the two of them, and the unspoken shift between them.

Aurora looked away. "There's nothing to talk about. It happened. It won't happen again. I'm here to work, not relive one night."

He nodded slowly. "Then I won't bring it up again."

"Good."

She turned to leave.

But just as she touched the door handle, his voice stopped her again.

"Aurora..."

She looked over her shoulder.

His eyes were unreadable.

"If something ever happens... anything... You can come to me."

She gave a wry smile. "Why? So we can make another mistake?"

"No. So I can do what I should've done that night."

She didn't ask what that meant.

She didn't want to know.

That night, Aurora returned home late. Her mother was waiting with a long list of complaints. Her father was in bed, coughing. Dinner was cold, untouched.

She pushed her own needs aside, like always.

But in the quietness of her room, under dim yellow light, she finally opened her journal and stared at a blank page.

Her pen hovered.

Then she wrote one sentence:

"I think I'm late."