Chapter 5: Cold Glances and Hidden Guilt

The office had never felt so loud, and yet so silent.

The tapping of keyboards, the muffled ringing of phones, the low hum of distant chatter—all of it surrounded Alina like a wave of noise she couldn't hear. She sat at her desk, pretending to be buried in mock-up designs for the MetroDrive campaign, but her focus was fractured.

Every few minutes, she felt it: eyes on her.

Ryan.

She didn’t need to look up to know he was glancing her way from the corner cubicle. She could sense the weight of his gaze, heavy with unsaid words and the quiet chaos that only two people who shared a mistake could understand.

But she didn’t look back.

It had been three days since their encounter. Three long, sleepless nights of overthinking, of questioning, of guilt. And in those three days, she had managed to avoid being alone with him. Meetings were always with Daniel. Conversations were kept clipped, formal. Coffee breaks? She skipped them. Lunch hours? Taken at her desk.

She had crafted a shield of distance, and she wasn't ready to let it crack.

But Ryan wasn’t oblivious.

Today, he stood by the coffee machine, pretending to stir his drink longer than necessary. And when she passed by to grab her tea, he made his move.

"Alina," he said quietly, turning toward her.

She froze. The way he said her name — low, cautious, laced with something that sounded almost like guilt — sent a wave of heat up her neck.

She didn't look at him.

"Ryan," she replied, her voice stiff.

“Can we talk?” he asked, almost a whisper.

She reached for a cup, her fingers suddenly trembling.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she muttered, filling it with hot water.

“Come on. You’ve been avoiding me since that night.”

She finally turned, just enough to meet his eyes. “I’m trying to move on from it. I’d appreciate it if you could do the same.”

His jaw tightened, the smile gone from his face. “You think I don’t want to move on? You think I planned this?”

She glanced toward the hallway, making sure no one was watching. “Keep your voice down.”

“I just—” He hesitated. “I didn’t lie to you, Alina. You assumed I was Daniel.”

“And you didn’t correct me,” she snapped, finally locking eyes with him.

They stood there for a moment in thick silence. Neither backing down, neither knowing how to make it right.

Then, just as quickly, she turned and walked away—tea in hand, head high, heart hammering.

---

Later that afternoon, Alina was called into Daniel’s office for a strategy review.

He smiled as she entered, standing to greet her with the ease of someone who genuinely enjoyed her company. “There she is—our creative powerhouse. Have a seat.”

She blushed despite herself. “Powerhouse is a little generous. I’ve barely been here a week.”

“But your ideas speak volumes,” Daniel said, sitting across from her. “Seriously, your take on the ‘Live Electric’ angle has the client curious. That’s not easy.”

She smiled, relaxing in his presence. Daniel had a way of making things feel simple, straightforward. No tension, no pretense. Just easy charm and natural confidence.

“I’m glad you liked it,” she said. “I think there’s a real emotional story we can tell—especially targeting first-time EV buyers.”

“Exactly. You get people,” he said, studying her with a sincerity that made her feel seen. “And I like that.”

Alina felt her smile falter just a bit. The way he looked at her—it wasn’t just appreciation anymore. There was something softer, something warmer behind his eyes.

And just like that, the guilt surged.

He didn’t know. He didn’t know that just days before, she’d slept with the man who sat beside him every day in meetings. His best friend. His business partner.

The man who had kissed her like he meant it, only to become a stranger by morning.

Daniel leaned back, arms folded. “So, what made you shift from AdEdge to Zenith? Was it the project? Or... something else?”

Alina swallowed, unsure how to answer. She had come for the role, for the creative opportunity. But she had also come looking for a fresh start. Now, all she had was a mess of emotions and an impossible secret.

“I wanted to work somewhere that valued fresh voices,” she said softly. “And maybe... I just needed change.”

Daniel nodded. “Well, I’m glad you did. I was hoping you’d join after the retreat. You made quite the impression.”

The compliment hit her like a small stone—gentle, but impossible to ignore. She forced a smile, though her stomach twisted.

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

They continued the review, and Alina pushed through, her ideas flowing automatically. But the entire time, her mind churned.

Daniel was kind. Supportive. Smart. Everything she thought she was falling for that night at the retreat. But now, with the truth clawing at her from beneath the surface, she didn’t know what she was feeling anymore.

---

Back at her desk, a new email landed.

From: Daniel Sharma

Subject: Friday Dinner?

Time: 4:27 PM

> Hey, Alina — no pressure, but if you’re free Friday night, I’d love to take you out. Just us. Nothing work-related. I feel like we haven’t had a real conversation outside campaign madness. Let me know.

- D

Alina stared at the screen.

Her heart thudded in her chest.

This wasn’t a friendly team dinner. This wasn’t networking. This was... a date.

She looked across the office at Daniel, who was now laughing with another colleague. Then her eyes shifted, involuntarily, to the other side of the floor—to Ryan, who sat rigid in his chair, eyes locked on his screen.

One man was asking to step into her life.

The other had already left a mark on it.

She closed the email, unread by anyone else, and leaned back in her chair, unsure of everything.

Guilt had a funny way of sitting on your chest—like a weight that no one else could see but you carried all the same.

And Alina Kapoor was now carrying more than just a secret.

She was carrying the fear of what would happen if it ever came out.

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