The cafeteria was unusually loud for a Wednesday afternoon—laughter echoing between trays of reheated pasta, tired jokes about spreadsheets flying across the table. Zoe sat with her usual team, half-listening, half-poking at her food.
Jenny leaned in first, eyes sharp with mischief. "Okay, is it just me, or is The Holloway back in full terrifying form?"
Noah snorted. "Right? She didn't even blink when Mark spilled coffee on the client forecast. Just stared at him like he was a human error code."
Even Steven chimed in, glancing toward Zoe with a teasing smile. "She's in cold command mode again. You guys aren't doing your little boss-employee telepathy thing anymore. Everything okay between you two?"
Zoe froze for a second too long before forcing a light laugh. "What do you mean 'telepathy thing'? There's no thing."
Jenny raised a brow. "Uh-huh. So, you two just happened to start acting like coworkers from two different departments who've never met?"
Zoe waved them off, tone breezy. "It's normal. We're just… focused on the project. That's all. Priorities."
Noah leaned in, voice low. "So, you're not in a lover's quarrel with the ice queen?"
Zoe choked on her water.
Jenny grinned. "We knew it! You used to be the only person who could make her laugh. Now she's back to laser-staring people into ash. That's gotta mean something."
Zoe cleared her throat, setting her glass down carefully. "You're all reading way too much into this. She's just being... herself."
But even as she spoke, her words felt thin.
Because she knew what they were noticing. Stacy had pulled back—sharpened the edges again, distanced herself. And Zoe? She'd felt the absence of something she never got to fully name.
She stabbed a piece of overcooked broccoli and said with a small smile, "Trust me, everything's fine."
But deep down, she wasn't sure she believed it herself.
-
After lunch, Zoe and her team moved down the hallway, laughter spilling from their cafeteria banter. Shoes scuffed against polished tiles, coffee cups clinked, someone muttered about a spreadsheet disaster—but the vibe was light.
Then the elevator doors slid open.
Stacy Holloway.
Immaculate as always. Standing tall in a tailored suit, arms crossed, expression carved in glass. The Ice Queen in her natural habitat.
Conversation died mid-sentence. Zoe's heart hiccupped. Her team exchanged a flurry of barely-there glances.
Zoe stepped forward first, trying to look casual.
Just as the group began filing in, Noah leaned toward her, voice low but deliberately not too low:
"So, Zoe... how's that little catch-up with Trina going?"
Zoe's stomach dropped. Her cheeks flared crimson.
Stacy's gaze shifted—slow and surgical—landing first on Zoe, then Noah. Her brow barely lifted. Her lips didn't smile, but something behind her eyes… sparked.
Zoe shot Noah a warning glare.
He winked, unapologetic. "What?" he mouthed.
The elevator doors slid shut.
Silence swallowed the space.
Zoe stared hard at the floor numbers lighting up above the door, pulse ticking in her ears. She felt Stacy beside her—still, unreadable, utterly composed.
But as they passed the fifth floor, Zoe could've sworn she saw the smallest twitch at the corner of Stacy's mouth.
A crack.
Barely there.
But real.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and Zoe and her team stepped out, their laughter and chatter picking up again as they headed back toward their desks.
Stacy lingered for a moment, the faintest crease forming between her brows as the elevator hummed silently behind her. She closed the door and began walking toward her office, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor.
As she reached her door, she paused, the playful words Noah had tossed still echoing in her mind.
"How's that little catch-up with Trina going?"
She shook her head, lips pressing into a thin line.
"Who the hell is Trina?" she murmured under her breath, the question heavy, loaded with more than curiosity.
Inside her office, she closed the door quietly and leaned against it, eyes unfocused, thoughts swirling. The conversation—the laughter—had unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.
She ran a hand through her hair, frustration mixing with something unfamiliar.
Why does it matter so much?
She let out a slow breath, the weight of her carefully constructed walls feeling heavier than ever.
Outside, the office buzzed on—oblivious to the storm brewing behind closed doors.
-
That evening, the office was hushed, the usual bustle long since faded into the quiet hum of after-hours cleaning crews and dimmed monitors.
Stacy stepped into the lobby, her heels clicking softly on the polished floor. She paused at the glass doors, ready to leave, when her breath caught.
Just outside, bathed in the glow of the streetlights, stood Zoe—laughing. Not the usual polite or restrained smile, but a soft, easy laugh that seemed to light up the night.
Leaning casually against a sleek black car was a woman—stunning, confident, with an effortless grace that made heads turn. The kind of person who seemed to belong in a different world entirely.
Zoe stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the woman in a warm, familiar hug, her whole body relaxing into the embrace. Then she slipped smoothly into the passenger seat, her laughter trailing behind her like a melody.
Stacy stood frozen, the glass doors suddenly feeling like a barrier she couldn't cross.
Something twisted sharply inside her chest—a sudden, unwelcome ache she hadn't expected.
Her throat tightened, eyes narrowing as the scene unfolded in slow motion.
That easy laughter, that closeness—it was a reminder. A quiet sting of jealousy and something deeper she wasn't ready to name.
The world outside blurred as Stacy turned away, the weight of the moment pressing heavily against her resolve.
--
Zoe sat at a small café table, fingers wrapped around the warm cup of cappuccino, eyes soft as they met the woman across from her—the same woman Stacy had seen earlier. Her ex—Trina. Looking as relaxed as if no time had passed at all.
"So," Zoe started with a playful smile, "you're actually marrying my cousin. How wild is that?"
Trina laughed, shaking her head. "I know, right? Never saw that coming either. But hey, family ties make for interesting stories."
Zoe chuckled. "Yeah, family drama on a whole new level. So, what's the plan? You want me to be your wedding planner now?"
"Pretty much," Trina said, raising an eyebrow. "You're the only one I trust not to lose her mind over the seating chart."
Zoe smirked. "Well, I've got a reputation to uphold. Plus, someone's got to keep the chaos in check."
Trina nodded, smiling. "Exactly. And you know how our families can get—this needs to be smooth."
Zoe sipped her cappuccino. "I'm in. Just don't expect me to go easy on you when you pick the playlist."
Trina laughed. "Deal. But I'm warning you, I have terrible taste in music."
"Perfect," Zoe said with a grin. "We'll balance each other out."
They shared a laugh, the easy rhythm of old friends catching up settling between them.
"So, any advice on surviving family events?" Zoe teased.
Trina winked. "Wine. Lots of wine."
Zoe raised her cup in a mock toast. "Noted."
-
Stacy was driving home, the city lights blurring past her windshield as she navigated through the evening rush. The streets were clogged, traffic at a standstill near a quiet café.
She glanced to her right and froze.
There—just across the street—was Zoe, sitting at an outdoor table, laughing easily with a woman Stacy didn't recognize at first. Then it clicked.
The woman from earlier.
Stacy's jaw tightened, the knot of jealousy twisting deep in her chest.
Why now? she thought bitterly.
The car honked behind her, but she barely noticed. She stayed rooted in place, eyes locked on the scene.
Zoe's laughter was soft, genuine. They looked... close.
Stacy blinked hard, forcing herself to look away, but the sting was sharp—sharper than she expected.
Get it together, Stacy. Focus. This isn't the time.
She gripped the steering wheel, taking a slow breath as the traffic finally began to move.
But the image lingered, haunting her as she drove on.
-
Back at the coffee shop, Zoe and Trina spent the next hour swapping stories, laughing over shared memories, and filling in the gaps time had created. The café buzzed around them, but in their little corner, it was just two old friends enjoying the simple comfort of being together again.
As they finally stood to leave, Zoe smiled warmly. "Thanks for this. It's been good—really good."
Trina grinned back. "Same here. Let's not wait so long next time, yeah?"
"Deal," Zoe said, feeling lighter than she had in days.
With a final hug, they parted ways, both carrying a bit of that easy friendship back into their busy lives.