Silence had never felt so loud.
Lena woke up with a dull ache in her chest, the kind that didn't fade with time. Morning light slipped through the thin curtains of her apartment, but it brought no comfort. Her phone lay untouched beside her bed.
She hadn't replied to Ethan's message.
She didn't know if she ever would.
Every memory of the past weeks now carried a sharp edge. His smiles. His gentle words. The way he had looked at her like she mattered. All of it felt tainted by the truth.
Was any of it real? she wondered.
She sat up and reached for her notebook, flipping through pages filled with unfinished stories. For the first time, writing didn't feel like escape. It felt like exposure.
She closed the notebook.
At Blackwood Press, the atmosphere was tense.
The CEO had returned, and nothing felt the same.
Lena arrived late, her steps heavy. Conversations stopped when she passed. People watched her now — not with curiosity, but with speculation.
She's the one who was close to him.
Did she know?
Was she sleeping with him?
The whispers hurt more than she expected.
She kept her head down and focused on her tasks, refusing to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her break.
Ethan watched her from his office.
Through the glass walls, he could see everything — the way she avoided looking in his direction, the way she flinched when his name was mentioned.
Regret settled deep in his chest.
He had built empires from nothing.
But he had destroyed the one thing that mattered.
He tried to talk to her.
Once, in the hallway.
"Lena," he said softly.
She walked past him like he wasn't there.
Another time, he sent her a message asking her to meet him.
She didn't respond.
The silence between them was deliberate.
Punishing.
Deserved.
Later that afternoon, Vanessa knocked on Ethan's office door.
"You wanted to see me?" she asked, her tone polite, calculated.
"Yes," he replied coldly. "I heard you had something to say about Lena."
Vanessa's smile faltered. "I was only protecting the company's image."
"You were intimidating an employee," Ethan said sharply. "That ends now."
She swallowed. "I didn't know she was—"
"My concern is not what you knew," he interrupted. "It's what you did."
When Vanessa left, shaken, Ethan leaned back in his chair.
Power felt hollow.
As evening fell, Lena finished her work and gathered her things. She moved quickly, hoping to avoid him.
Too late.
The elevator doors closed with just the two of them inside.
The silence pressed down hard.
"I won't apologize for existing," she said suddenly, staring straight ahead. "But I won't pretend what you did didn't hurt."
"I never meant to deceive you," Ethan said quietly.
"But you did," she replied.
The elevator dinged.
She stepped out without another word.
That night, Ethan stood on his balcony, city lights glowing below. He held Lena's notebook — the one she had accidentally left behind.
He hadn't opened it.
Not yet.
He respected her too much.
But holding it reminded him of everything he stood to lose.
Love wasn't a game.
And silence, he realized, was the loudest punishment of all.