The rain didn’t stop for three days.
By Thursday, the city looked waterlogged—buses splashing through puddles, people walking fast with their heads down, the sky one solid sheet of gray.
Clara watched it from her office window, coffee cooling beside her.
She hadn’t seen much of Adrian since that night.
He’d been buried in meetings, and she wasn’t sure if that was coincidence or avoidance.
Either way, it left her more aware of the silence between them.
Mae popped her head into the office.
“Emergency team lunch. You in?”
“Is it actual food or another ‘bonding exercise’?”
“Both. But there’s pizza.”
“Fine. I’ll risk it.”
Downstairs, the team gathered in the break area.
Someone had ordered way too much food, which meant Theo was happy.
He held up a slice. “Carbs fix everything.”
Clara said, “You said that about tequila last week.”
“Tequila fixes faster.”
Adrian showed up late, laptop in hand, shirt sleeves rolled up.
He looked tired but not messy—like exhaustion couldn’t quite touch him.
Clara looked away before she could be caught staring.
“Cole,” Theo said, “you eat, or do you just absorb data for lunch?”
Adrian blinked once. “Usually both.”
The room laughed, even Clara.
For a few minutes, things felt easy.
Then the talk shifted to the upcoming presentation—Adrian’s big client pitch.
Mae said, “We’re supposed to show the emotional angle, right? How stories connect people.”
Adrian nodded. “And how measurable engagement proves that connection.”
Clara frowned. “You can’t *measure* emotion.”
“Of course you can,” he said. “You just have to look at it long enough.”
“That’s not seeing,” she said. “That’s counting.”
The air went still.
Theo muttered, “Okay, and lunch is officially awkward.”
Adrian set his slice down.
“Maybe you’re afraid of numbers because they don’t lie.”
“Or maybe you hide behind them because they can’t feel.”
Their voices were calm, but the tension cracked between every word.
Mae stood up. “Let’s take a break before someone bleeds on the pizza.”
Everyone scattered.
Clara went back upstairs, heartbeat uneven.
She hated that he got under her skin so easily.
Later that afternoon, a message popped up on her screen.
**From:** Adrian Cole
**Subject:** *Can we talk?*
She hesitated, then typed back: *Sure.*
They met in the small glass meeting room by the stairwell, the one everyone avoided because it echoed.
He closed the door.
“I didn’t mean to insult you,” he said.
“I know. You just think I’m irrational.”
“I think you care more than most people.”
“Not always a compliment.”
“It should be.”
He looked at her, steady and open in a way she hadn’t seen before.
“Sometimes I forget that behind every number, there’s someone like you trying to make it mean something.”
She exhaled. “That almost sounded human.”
“Almost?”
“Don’t push it.”
For the first time in days, she smiled at him without thinking.
And he smiled back, small but real.
Then, before she could say anything else, Julian’s name flashed across her phone.
Incoming call.
Her stomach dropped.
Adrian noticed. “You don’t have to answer.”
“I know,” she said, but her hand still hovered.
The phone kept buzzing.
Finally, she hit decline.
It stopped.
When she looked up, Adrian was watching her—not with curiosity this time, but something gentler.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Just… old noise.”
He nodded. “Noise fades.”
“Not always.”
“Then you learn to listen past it.”
It was such a simple thing to say, but it landed deep.
Maybe because he wasn’t trying to fix her. He was just there.
The silence between them wasn’t heavy anymore.
It was the kind that let her breathe.
Outside, thunder rolled again.
Elyndra’s rain never really stopped—just changed rhythm.
That night, Clara stayed late again.
Most of the office was dark, the hum of the vending machine the only sound left.
She wasn’t working anymore—just pretending to, scrolling through emails she didn’t plan to answer.
Her reflection in the screen looked tired but calmer than before.
Maybe that was something.
She thought about what Adrian said: *You learn to listen past it.*
It stuck with her.
Like advice she didn’t ask for but needed anyway.
She shut the laptop and grabbed her coat.
Outside, the rain had stopped, leaving the streets wet and shiny.
She started walking home, heels clicking against the pavement.
Halfway there, she saw someone leaning against her building’s entrance.
Her heart stuttered before her brain caught up.
Julian.
He looked exactly the same—too handsome, too confident, the kind of man who treated charm like a weapon.
He smiled when he saw her. “You still walk home alone.”
“And you still appear uninvited.”
“Some habits die hard.”
“Others should’ve.”
He stepped closer. “I called.”
“I noticed.”
“You didn’t answer.”
“I noticed that too.”
He laughed softly, the same laugh that used to melt her.
Now it just made her tired.
“I just wanted to talk,” he said.
“About what? The weather? Your timing?”
He sighed. “You’re still angry.”
“I’m not angry. I’m just done.”
The words came out steady. She didn’t even plan them.
Julian tilted his head, studying her like she was a problem to solve.
“You’ve changed.”
“I hope so.”
“I liked the old version.”
“That’s exactly the problem.”
He blinked, thrown off for once.
For a second, she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“Goodbye, Julian.”
She walked past him, keys in hand.
He didn’t follow.
Inside her apartment, the air felt lighter.
She kicked off her shoes and stood in the doorway, breathing.
The silence wasn’t empty anymore—it was hers.
Her phone buzzed on the counter.
A message from Adrian: *Did you get home okay?*
She stared at it for a moment, then typed back: *Yeah. Thanks.*
He replied almost instantly: *Good. Try to sleep.*
She smiled, set the phone down, and went to make tea.
The kettle whistled softly, steady and familiar.
For the first time, the quiet didn’t feel like loneliness.
It felt like balance.
She sat by the window, mug in hand, watching the city lights blur through the mist.
Her reflection looked tired, yes—but also certain.
And somewhere deep down, something she thought was broken started to settle back into place.
Outside, Elyndra exhaled.
The rain would come again, it always did.
But tonight, there was peace.
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