Amara ran.
She didn't think.
Didn't breathe properly.
Didn't care that her heels struck the concrete floor too hard, echoing through the parking basement.
All she could hear was the pounding of her heart.
He'll misunderstand.
The image replayed in her mind—Damian standing by the elevator doors, frozen. The look in his eyes. Not anger.
Worse.
Resignation.
"Damian, wait…" she whispered to the empty air as she sprinted toward the elevators.
The indicator light was already climbing.
Too late.
She hit the button repeatedly anyway, as if force could pull him back down.
Nothing.
Her chest tightened.
No.
No, no, no.
She spun around, mind racing. If he went upstairs, she could still catch him. He wouldn't leave without saying anything. He wouldn't just disappear.
Would he?
The elevator dinged again, but she didn't wait. She ran toward the staircase instead, taking the steps two at a time, lungs burning.
Damian's Office Floor
When Amara burst through the hallway doors toward Damian's office, several employees looked up in surprise.
She ignored them.
She pushed open his office door without knocking.
Empty.
The chair behind his desk was slightly pushed back. The blinds were half-open. The air still carried the faint trace of his cologne.
But he wasn't there.
Her heart dropped into her stomach.
"No…" she breathed.
She turned and rushed toward his secretary's desk.
"Where is he?" she asked, her voice shaking despite her effort to sound composed.
Damian's secretary blinked at her, clearly startled. "Miss Amara?"
"Where is Damian?"
"He—" the secretary hesitated, confused. "He left."
"Left?" Her voice cracked. "Left where?"
"I… I don't know."
She stared at him, uncomprehending.
"He ran out of his office earlier," the secretary continued slowly. "Looked… happy. I've never seen him move that fast."
Her breath hitched.
Happy.
Because of her message.
"Then he came back a few minutes later," the secretary added, frowning slightly. "And he looked…"
He didn't finish.
He didn't need to.
"…heartbroken?" she whispered.
The secretary swallowed. "Yes."
Her knees weakened.
"He stayed inside for a bit," he continued. "Then he walked out again. Didn't say anything. Didn't tell me where he was going."
The hallway noise faded.
The world tilted.
Her body felt too light and too heavy at the same time.
And then—
She slowly sank to the ground.
Right there.
In front of the secretary's desk.
The secretary stood abruptly. "Miss Amara!"
But she barely heard him.
Her mind replayed the moment.
Kael leaning in.
The angle.
Damian's eyes.
"He thinks…" she whispered faintly. "He thinks…"
That it was real.
Her chest tightened painfully.
"There was no kiss," she murmured to herself. "There was no kiss…"
The secretary crouched slightly, unsure whether to help her up or give her space. He had never seen her like this. Calm, composed Amara—who negotiated million-dollar contracts without blinking—now looked like she was barely holding herself together.
"I… I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding," he offered awkwardly.
She pressed her lips together.
Misunderstanding.
That word felt too small for the damage it could cause.
Suddenly, she inhaled sharply.
No.
Damian wouldn't leave the company building without going to the basement to get his car.
She had just come from there.
He hadn't passed her.
Which meant—
"He's still here," she whispered.
The secretary blinked. "Miss Amara?"
She stood abruptly.
So fast that he flinched.
"Thank you," she said quickly, already backing away.
Then she turned and ran.
The secretary stared after her, baffled.
Ten minutes ago, his boss had looked like a man in love. Then like a man who had lost everything. Now Amara looked like she was trying to prevent a catastrophe.
What on earth happened in ten minutes?
As Amara ran down the hallway, her mind searched desperately.
Where would he go?
Somewhere quiet.
Somewhere he could think.
Somewhere he once told her about.
Her steps faltered.
The rooftop.
She remembered the evening he had brought her there. The city lights below. The wind in his hair. The way he had leaned against the railing and said quietly—
"When things get too loud, I come here. It helps me breathe."
Her heart clenched.
Of course.
She sprinted toward the elevator.
The doors were closing.
"Wait!" she shouted.
Too late.
The elevator began descending to the first floor.
She stared at the numbers.
It would take too long.
Every second felt like a year.
She turned sharply and ran toward the emergency staircase.
Up.
Up.
Up.
Her lungs burned by the fourth floor.
Her legs trembled by the sixth.
But she didn't stop.
She couldn't.
Please don't give up.
Please don't decide before I explain.
Please don't leave me like this.
Her breath came in ragged gasps as she climbed the final flight.
When she reached the door leading to the rooftop, her hands shook.
She reached for the handle—
And it suddenly swung open from the other side.
She stumbled back in shock.