Kael sat frozen on his swivel chair, elbows on his desk, hands pressed against his temples as if squeezing them hard enough could force back time.
But nothing changed.
Not the fact that Amara had walked away from him.
Not the fact that he'd let her.
Not the fact that he grabbed her arm—only to release her the moment he saw people coming.
His stupid pride.
His stupid, useless pride.
The memory replayed again and again like a punishment.
Amara turning to him with those polite eyes, gently exhausted, the same eyes that once lit up every time they met his.
The brief shock when he grabbed her.
The disappointment when he let go.
And the final blow:
the way Damian stepped closer, placing a steadying hand on her back, guiding her away like she wasn't someone Kael once swore he didn't care about… and yet cared for far too much.
Kael dropped back against his chair with a harsh exhale.
"Idiot," he muttered at himself. "You're such an idiot."
Thirty minutes passed.
His secretary had placed a thick stack of documents on his desk—the kind that required immediate signatures, approvals, revisions.
He hadn't even touched them.
He didn't even remember she came in.
He just sat there, staring through the glass wall of his office as if expecting Amara to appear again. As if expecting a miracle.
Instead, what he got was a shove of the door and the loud footsteps of someone who never bothered knocking.
"Bro, what's with you?"
Jake entered with his usual swagger, tossing his phone on Kael's untouched paperwork.
Kael didn't answer.
He barely blinked.
Jake raised an eyebrow.
"Oookay. You look like you swallowed a cactus." He sat on the edge of Kael's desk. "Something happen this morning?"
Kael remained quiet, lips pressed thin.
Jake grinned—he had found a crack.
"I thought so." He jerked a thumb toward the hallway. "By the way, before I came in, I saw something interesting."
Kael stiffened.
Jake continued, voice teasingly dramatic.
"Damian caught Amara when she was about to fall. Dude looked like some hero from a drama. The two of them were like a couple who were abou—"
BANG!
Kael slammed his desk so hard the pen he had been holding drove into his palm.
"Ah—!" He hissed as pain shot through his hand.
Jake jumped. "What the hell is your problem?!"
Kael didn't answer.
He just sat there, jaw clenched, blood slowly pooling around his injured palm, eyes burning with something dangerously close to panic.
Jake stared at him, then slowly, a wicked smile lifted one corner of his mouth.
"Oh…" he said. "Ohhh. Don't tell me you're in lo—"
"I'm not," Kael snapped immediately, too fast, too defensive.
Jake burst out laughing. "Uh-huh. And I'm secretly a ballet dancer. Please."
Kael glared at him but Jake only laughed harder, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.
"I swear, this is gold. You're in love with that country bumpkin. Admit it!"
Kael's pride flared, raw and reflexive.
"Don't be ridiculous," he said coldly. "I just—"
He looked away, pulse hammering.
"I just don't want to see Amara serving someone else."
Jake stilled. Then snorted.
"Oh wow. That's even worse."
Kael shot him a deadly look, but Jake shrugged, clearly not caring.
"Look, Kael. Whether you like her or not, you want her attention back." He leaned forward lazily. "So get it."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "How?"
Jake grinned like the devil himself.
"Make her jealous."
Kael blinked.
"What?"
"Jealous." Jake tapped his temple. "Human nature, bro. Works every time. Especially on girls who used to like you."
"I don't—"
Jake held up a hand.
"Uh-uh. I don't need your explanations. Do what you want. I'm just giving you a tip."
He slid off the desk and walked toward the door.
"Anyway, if you want her back, make sure she feels you slipping away first. Girls hate that."
Kael didn't respond.
He didn't even breathe.
Jake opened the door but paused—smirking.
"Oh. Speaking of." He tilted his chin toward the hallway. "Look."
Kael's gaze snapped up instinctively.
Through the small gap before the door fully closed, he saw—
Damian.
Leaning down, whispering something to Amara.
Amara's face turned soft pink.
Her eyes widened.
Then she smiled.
Damian smiled back.
Something inside Kael twisted violently.
And then the door shut.
Leaving Kael alone with that image burned painfully into his skull.
He stared at his injured palm, blood smudged across his skin.
Jake's words looped in his mind.
Make her jealous.
It wasn't his style.
He wasn't childish.
But…
Damian touching her…
Amara smiling back…
The two of them walking side by side like they'd been doing it forever…
Kael felt something he'd denied for too long claw its way up his chest.
He stood from his chair.
And made a decision.
—
Clariss squealed when Kael stepped into the design department.
"K–Kael? Do you need something?" she asked breathlessly, smoothing her skirt.
Kael offered a smile he didn't feel.
"Walk with me."
Her eyes widened. "Why?"
Kael didn't answer.
Clariss didn't think it over. It's her chance so she practically floated to his side.
As they walked through the open workspace, Clariss clung to his arm like she belonged there—Kael didn't remove her hand.
That was the whole point.
He slowed his steps whenever she tugged closer.
He leaned slightly when she whispered a question.
He even tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.
The entire department buzzed with whispers.
People stared.
Which meant one thing—
Amara would hear.
As they approached the main hall, fate—or cruel timing—delivered exactly what Kael needed.
Amara and Damian turned the corner at the same moment.
Damian was carrying some documents.
Amara was talking, smiling faintly.
They looked easy, comfortable—too comfortable.
Kael felt jealousy stab somewhere deep, but he didn't show it.
Instead, he spoke softly to Clariss, voice warm and gentle.
"Be careful. The floor's a little slippery."
Clariss giggled and clung tighter.
He even let his hand rest briefly on her lower back.
Damian saw it first.
His eyes sharpened immediately, sensing the intention in Kael's body language.
Then Amara lifted her gaze.
And froze.
Her steps halted mid-stride.
Her expression flickered—
Confusion.
Hurt.
A sharp pinch of disappointment.
Then something emptier, colder.
Kael thought he succeeded.
So he held his act.
Clariss leaned her head on his shoulder slightly, purposely flirty.
Kael didn't push her away.
He looked straight at Amara.
Silent.
Waiting.
Wanting to see something—anything—in her eyes that proved he still mattered.
Amara blinked.
Then she smiled faintly.
Not fondly.
Not warmly.
Not shyly.
But politely.
A smile that didn't reach her eyes.
She bowed her head slightly.
Kael's thoughts blazed with triumph, a private festival of victory unfurling in his mind as he savoured the illusion of success.
Amara didn't look back.
But Damian did—his glare locked onto Kael with something cold and threatening.
Kael smirked.
Clariss chattered beside him, still clinging, but he didn't hear a single word.
He had gotten what he wanted.
He had Amara's reaction.
And he liked it.
Kael was already scripting the spectacle, imagining every gesture and word as deliberate daggers to pierce Amara with jealousy.