Twenty-five minutes later, I packed up my things, slower than usual, not because I had more to do but because I was aware of every passing second now, of the quiet anticipation building under my skin, and when I finally stood up, I made my way toward the elevator, trying to look as composed as I always did—even if my thoughts were already somewhere else.
When the doors opened, I stepped inside and found Amara and Non already there.
Non glanced at me almost immediately, a small, knowing look crossing his face.
"Done for today?" he asked.
"For now," I replied, my tone casual, controlled.
Then, after a brief pause, I added, "I still have an event later."
Amara let out a quiet sound beside him, almost like she had been waiting for the right moment to say something.
"Did you see her face earlier?" she asked softly, leaning just slightly closer, her voice lowered enough to keep it between us. "That employee… when you were in there."
"I saw," I answered simply.
There was no point pretending otherwise.
"And I don't think she was very happy seeing me with Chak."
Amara's lips curved just a little, curiosity clearly winning over restraint.
"So," she continued, her tone lighter now but still careful, "what were you doing in there?"
For a brief second, I hesitated.
Not because I didn't want to answer—
but because saying it out loud made it real in a different way.
I felt the faintest heat rise to my face before I looked away for a moment, then back at her.
"I was sitting on his lap," I admitted quietly, keeping my voice even despite the slight embarrassment. "Leaning against him."
Non raised an eyebrow.
Amara blinked once.
"And before you ask," I added quickly, a hint of defensiveness slipping in despite myself, "we didn't do anything inappropriate."
Amara let out a soft, amused breath, clearly entertained more than anything else.
"I didn't say anything," she replied, though the look on her face said enough.
The elevator doors opened, cutting the moment short as we stepped out into the underground garage, the air immediately cooler, quieter, the sounds of the office fading behind us.
But as soon as I stepped fully into the space—
something felt… off.
It wasn't obvious.
Not something I could point to directly.
Just a feeling.
A shift.
Like being watched.
I slowed slightly, my eyes moving across the rows of parked cars, the dim lighting casting long shadows that didn't quite settle right.
"Are you okay, Niran?" Non asked, noticing immediately.
"I don't know," I admitted, my voice lower now, more uncertain than I liked. "I have this feeling like someone's here…"
I hesitated, my gaze drifting again, sharper this time.
"Like someone's watching us."
Amara glanced around as well, though her expression stayed calm.
"Maybe it just feels that way," she said gently. "It's quiet down here."
Maybe.
Maybe she was right.
But the feeling didn't fully go away.
It stayed, subtle, persistent, just enough to keep me slightly on edge.
"Do you want to walk with us to our car while you wait?" she offered after a moment.
I didn't hesitate this time.
"Yes, please."
We moved together through the garage, our footsteps echoing faintly, and I stayed just a little closer than usual without really thinking about it, my attention still half on my surroundings.
When we reached their car, I finally let out a quiet breath, reaching into my pocket for my phone.
I unlocked it quickly and typed a short message.
"I'm at Amara's car."
I hit send, my gaze lifting again almost immediately—
that same feeling still lingering, just beneath the surface,
like something—
or someone—
hadn't left yet.
I didn't put my phone away right away.
Instead, I kept it in my hand, my fingers loosely wrapped around it as my eyes moved across the garage again, slower this time, more deliberate, as if I could force whatever that feeling was to reveal itself if I just looked hard enough.
But there was nothing.
Just parked cars.
Concrete pillars.
Shadows that stayed exactly where they should be.
And yet—
the unease didn't leave.
"Hey," Non said quietly, his voice closer now, pulling my attention back to him. "You're really not okay, are you?"
"I'm fine," I replied automatically, though even to me it didn't sound entirely convincing.
Amara watched me for a second longer, her expression softer now, less curious and more concerned.
"If something feels off, don't ignore it," she said gently.
I nodded, even if I didn't know what I was supposed to do with that.
Because what exactly could I point to?
A feeling?
A shadow?
Nothing concrete.
Nothing real.
My phone vibrated again.
This time, I didn't hesitate.
I looked down immediately.
Chak
"I'm almost there."
My shoulders relaxed without me realizing it, the tension easing just slightly as I read the message, as if his presence—even just knowing he was close—was enough to ground me again.
"Okay,"
I typed back quickly.
I didn't need to say more.
He would understand.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket, exhaling quietly as I leaned just slightly against the side of Amara's car, trying to appear more at ease than I actually felt.
Non shifted his stance, glancing once more around the garage.
"I'll stay until he gets here," he said, his tone casual but firm in a way that told me it wasn't really a suggestion.
"You don't have to," I started.
"I know," he cut in lightly. "I want to."
I didn't argue after that.
Because, truthfully—
I was glad.
A few seconds passed.
Then a minute.
The sound of a car engine echoed faintly from deeper in the garage, growing louder as headlights cut through the dim space, briefly washing over us before settling into a familiar shape.
My chest tightened just slightly.
I recognized the car instantly
It pulled in smoothly, controlled, precise, stopping not far from where we stood, and for the first time since stepping into the garage, the unease inside me shifted—didn't disappear, not completely—but changed into something more manageable.
Safer.
The driver's door opened.
Chak stepped out.
Composed.
Untouchable.
Exactly the way everyone else saw him.
But when his gaze found mine—
it changed.
Not obviously.
Not in a way anyone else would notice.
But I saw it.
And somehow—
that was enough.
I pushed myself off the car, stepping toward him without thinking too much about it, the distance between us closing naturally, like it always did.
"You came," I said quietly, stopping just close enough, my voice softer now, steadier.
His eyes lingered on me for a brief second, scanning, assessing—not just looking, but checking.
"Of course," he replied simply.
His gaze shifted briefly past me, acknowledging Amara and Non with a small nod—polite, professional, controlled.
"Good night," he added to them.
Non gave a short nod back.
Amara smiled faintly.
"You too."
There was a pause.
Not awkward.
Just… understood.
Then Chak looked back at me.
"Get in," he said, his tone gentler now, quieter, meant only for me again.
I nodded.
But just before I moved—
I hesitated.
Just for a second.
My eyes flicked once more across the garage.
That feeling—
still there.
Faint.
Lingering.
Watching.
I turned back to him.
And this time—
I didn't wait.
I opened the car door and slipped inside.
The door closed with a soft, final sound.
Safe.
Or at least—safer.
Chak got in a second later.
The engine started.
The garage lights slid over the windshield as we moved.
I didn't speak right away.
Neither did he.
But I felt his glance.
Quick.
Sharp.
Checking.
"You felt it too, didn't you?" he said quietly.
Not a question.
I swallowed.
"Yeah."
Short.
Honest.
His hand moved.
Rested on my thigh.
Firm.
Grounding.
"I saw you looking around," he added.
"I thought I was imagining it," I admitted.
"You weren't," he said.
Simple.
Certain.
That made my chest tighten.
"You saw something?" I asked.
He paused.
"Not clearly."
That didn't help.
We drove out of the garage.
Into open light.
I exhaled slowly.
Still tense.
Still aware.
His thumb brushed lightly over my leg.
Small movement.
But steady.
"I'll have someone check it," he said.
Of course he would.
I nodded.
Then leaned back.
Just a little.
Closer to him.
"I don't like it," I murmured.
"I know."
Quiet.
Calm.
Controlled.
We stopped at a light.
His hand didn't move away.
"Forget it for now," he said.
"Focus on us."
I turned my head slightly.
Looked at him.
"You and your one hour?" I said softly.
A faint smile.
Barely there.
"More than enough," he replied.
I let out a small breath.
Some tension left.
Not all.
But enough.
"For now," I said.
"For now," he echoed.
The light turned green.
And we drove on.
We drove in a quieter rhythm after that, the city lights moving past us in soft streaks while the tension slowly settled into something less sharp, less immediate, though it never fully disappeared.
I shifted slightly in my seat, turning just enough toward him to study his profile, the way his focus stayed on the road, calm and controlled like always, yet I could still see that he was thinking, that part of him was already somewhere else, analyzing, connecting things I couldn't see.
"You're still thinking about it," I said, my voice low but certain.
He didn't look at me right away.
"Of course I am," he replied evenly.
There was no denial in him.
Never with things that mattered.
I watched him for a second longer before letting out a small breath and leaning back again, my shoulder brushing lightly against his arm.
"I don't like not knowing," I admitted quietly.
His grip on the steering wheel shifted just slightly.
"You won't have to for long," he said.
That confidence—
it grounded me more than reassurance ever could.
A few seconds passed before I spoke again, softer now.
"But for now… can we just not think about it?"
This time, he glanced at me.
Brief.
But enough.
"That's what I said," he reminded me, a faint trace of warmth in his tone.
I smiled a little, almost unconsciously, and let my head rest back, my eyes closing for just a moment as I focused on his presence instead of everything else.
On the way his hand still rested on my thigh.
On the quiet space between us that didn't feel empty.
After a short while, I opened my eyes again and turned toward him.
"So," I said lightly, shifting the mood on purpose, "where are we going for that one hour?"
His lips curved just slightly.
"Somewhere quiet."
That was all he said.
But somehow—
it was enough.
I tilted my head, watching him with a softer expression now.
"You planned it?"
A small pause.
"Yes."
That made something warm settle in my chest again, simple and steady.
I leaned a little closer, just enough for him to notice.
"Then I won't ask more," I murmured.
His hand moved slightly, a small, almost absent gesture, but intentional.
"Good."
The car turned off the main road then, the noise of the city fading just a bit, replaced by something calmer, more private, and I felt my body relax without really thinking about it, the earlier unease slowly slipping further into the background.
Not gone.
But quieter.
Because right now—
I wasn't thinking about being watched.
I was thinking about him.
And the way even one hour with him felt like something I could hold onto.