When I entered his office, Chak watched me closely.

"Sit, Niran," he said.  

"What's wrong? Tell me."  

"Nothing, sir," I lied.  

"I'm just tired, that's all."  

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.  

"Go home," he said.  

"But sir, I haven't finished yet…"  

"Go home and get some rest," he repeated firmly.  

"Alright, sir," I said, my voice trembling. I stood up and slowly made my way home.

I stopped at the market to buy some fruit. When I reached the pedestrian crossing, the light turned red. Suddenly, I felt someone hug me and kiss me on the cheek. I pushed him away and realized it was my ex-boyfriend, Lun. 

"Lun!" I exclaimed.  

"What are you doing?"  

"What, can't I hug you?" he asked.  

"You can, but don't kiss me on the cheek."  

"I just wanted to greet you," he said.

At that moment, I saw Chak watching me from his car. His eyes were filled with intense anger. "Oh no," I thought when I saw him. "This is definitely not going to end well." Chak then drove off.

"Lun, please go," I said.  

"Why?" he asked.  

"I just want to be alone," I replied, crossing the street. When I got home, I gave Leo fresh food and water then I collapsed on the couch and fell asleep from exhaustion. I woke up late in the evening. I ate some yogurt, and while checking my phone, I saw that Chak had messaged me to come to his office tomorrow. A lump formed in my throat. I went to bed, but I couldn't sleep. The thought kept running through my mind: what if he fires me after seeing me with Lun?

The night passed quickly, and I went to work the next morning. Non told me Chak was already in the office and in a very bad mood. I went to see him, feeling nervous. Before I knocked on the door, I took a deep breath and exhaled. I knocked, and Chak's cold voice said, 

"Come in."

When I entered, I found him reviewing documents. 

"Good morning," I said in a nervous voice. Chak looked up and froze me with his cold reply, 

"As if for anyone."

"Sir," I said, my voice shaking, "about what you saw yesterday..." Before I finished, he interrupted me with a raised hand.  

"I don't care," he said.  

"You're working with me today," he added.  

"But why?" I asked.  

"Because I said so," he replied.  

"You'll review these documents and enter them into the spreadsheets. Understand?"  

"I understand, sir," I answered.  

"Everything needs to be done today," he continued, handing me a large stack of files. "And if you think that's all, you're wrong."  

He pointed to the other boxes still on the floor. I felt a wave of nausea looking at the pile.

"Go get your computer and come back," he said.

"Alright, sir," I replied.  

As I went to get my computer, Non asked why I needed it.  

"I'm going to work all day with Chak, sorting documents," I told him.  

"With Chak, who is in a really bad mood. Good luck," he said.

I walked back toward Chak's office. The tension in the air was almost palpable. When I sat down across from him and started working, I grabbed the first folder—only to realize my hands were shaking.  

Of course, Chak noticed. His sharp gaze locked onto me, but he didn't say anything. I tried to focus, but how was I supposed to stay calm when the man sitting across from me was someone I was undeniably attracted to—and who now thought I had a boyfriend?  

Entering data into the spreadsheets dragged on endlessly. After a few minutes, I slowly lifted my eyes. Chak was completely immersed in his work. I watched as his hair fell over his eyes, until he casually pushed it back with a slow movement. My heartbeat quickened.  

Suddenly, he raised his head and caught me staring. I quickly lowered my gaze back to the documents, pretending they were the only thing that mattered. But it was pointless.  

I heard his chair slide back. In the next moment, he was standing next to me. His presence was overwhelming, his closeness almost too much. He leaned over the desk, his hair nearly brushing my vision. I could feel his breath, the faint scent of his cologne—deep, masculine, with a hint of sweetness. My hands trembled even more.  

"You're taking your time," 

he said in a cold voice.  

I sighed, the tension in my chest growing.

 "I know, sir," I stammered, forcing myself to keep working.

 "But I can't focus."  

He seemed to have already figured that out. "I can see that," he replied, then simply turned and walked out of the office.  

I stared after him, confused. What the hell was that? Why did he just leave?  

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to concentrate. An entire hour passed before he returned. When he walked back into the office, he was holding a small bag in his right hand, which he placed on the black coffee table. Then, he sat down on the couch and simply said:  

"Niran, come here."  

His voice was cold, but there was an unmistakable command in it. I stood up, but with every step that brought me closer to him, my nerves grew stronger.  

"You can't work properly when you're hungry," he added, pulling out Pad Pak Ruam and a salad from the bag.  

I stared at him in confusion, then at the food. With a slight motion of his hand, he gestured for me to sit beside him. I hesitated, then carefully took a seat.  

Chak handed me a bowl. I looked at it, then at him. "Why is he looking at me?" I wondered as our eyes met.  

Taking the fork, I started eating, but the feeling of being watched didn't disappear. I felt like I was under a microscope.  

When the fork slipped from my fingers, I instinctively reached down to grab it, but he was faster. His fingers had already wrapped around it when our gazes met at an uncomfortably close distance.  

"Why are you so clumsy, Niran?" Chak asked, his eyes never leaving mine.  

I swallowed hard. "I'm usually not," I murmured.  

"Really?" His lips curved ever so slightly—was it a smirk, or was my mind just desperate to see something more? "It doesn't seem that way to me," he remarked coldly, handing the fork back to me.  

The brief brush of his fingers against my palm sent a jolt through me.  

I tried to focus, but his presence was overpowering. Everything about him—his scent, his deep voice, the way he looked at me—was making me lose control.  

When I finally finished eating, I slowly placed the fork and bowl down. "Thank you, sir," I said quietly.  

Chak didn't respond right away. Instead, he leaned back against the couch, his gaze still locked on me.  

Then, just as I was about to rise, he spoke.  

"Rest for a bit"

It wasn't a request.  

I froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. But then, slowly, I sank back into the seat.  

Chak didn't say anything else. He simply leaned his head back against the couch, closed his eyes, and exhaled.  

The air between us was thick with something unspoken. I swallowed, feeling my heart hammer against my ribs.  

I should leave.  

I should get back to work.  

But I didn't move.  

And neither did he.