As I stood up to leave, something on Vincent’s desk caught my attention.

A document — no, my designs.

Curiosity got the better of me. I walked closer, careful not to disturb anything else on his neatly arranged desk. My heart gave a little squeeze as I picked up the file.

They were my past designs — the ones I had worked tirelessly on, the ones I poured my sleepless nights into. They were detailed, full of passion and emotion, something that carried a part of me in every sketch line and color stroke.

I blinked. So, that was what they had been discussing earlier?

Quietly, I carried the file back to the sofa and sat down, spreading the pages on my lap. My eyes darted between my old work and the newer designs stacked beside them — sleek, modern, but empty.

“Was he planning to replace my designs with these?”

The thought stung. I felt a weight press down on my chest. I could almost hear the faint echo of our argument from the night before, his words still sharp and cold.

Maybe this was his way of erasing me from everything — from his company, from his world.

A soft sigh escaped my lips. My eyes burned a little from exhaustion. I hadn’t slept properly in days, not since our fight. The stress of returning to the company, the emotional weight of being around him again—it was too much.

Before I realized it, my vision blurred. My head grew light. Dizziness washed over me in gentle waves until the room swayed.

The last thing I saw were the papers slipping from my lap before everything went dark.

---

When I entered my office again, I stopped dead in my tracks.

She was still there.

Sleeping.

Alice lay curled up on the sofa, one hand resting lightly over the documents she’d been holding. The faint rise and fall of her chest told me she was sound asleep.

For a moment, I just stood there, unsure of what to do.

“This woman…” I muttered under my breath, running a hand through my hair. “What’s wrong with her?”

Part of me wanted to wake her. The other part — the part I didn’t want to admit existed — didn’t want to disturb her. She looked… peaceful. Tired, but peaceful.

I turned away before that thought could take root.

Without thinking much, I grabbed a light blanket from the side cabinet and tossed it over her. It landed halfway across her shoulder, not neatly, but at least it covered her a little.

Then I went back to my desk, trying to focus on the reports in front of me. But I couldn’t. Every time I tried to read a line, my eyes drifted back toward her.

She hadn’t even stirred.

Hours passed. The sound of my pen scratching the paper, the ticking clock — and her soft breathing — filled the air.

When I finally looked up again, the office was bathed in the golden hue of evening. She was still there, asleep, her hair falling loosely around her face.

Didn’t she sleep last night?

A small frown tugged at my lips. Memories of our argument flashed through my mind — her teary eyes, her trembling voice, my own harsh words.

The guilt was like a quiet ache in my chest, but I pushed it away.

No, I told myself coldly. “She brought this on herself. I won’t feel sorry for her.”

That thought hardened my heart again.

I gathered my files, shoved them into my briefcase, and stood up. Without sparing another glance at her, I walked out.

Outside, my assistant greeted me, surprised to see me leaving early.

“Sir, should I close the office?” he asked.

“Not yet,” I said curtly. “When it’s closing time, go to my office and wake Miss Alice. Tell her to leave.”

His brows furrowed slightly, but he nodded obediently. “Yes, Mr. Markston.”

And without another word, I left.

---

I stirred awake when something brushed against my cheek. My eyes blinked open slowly to find the office dimly lit.

For a second, I was disoriented. The clock on the wall read 4:50 PM .

“Oh no…” I whispered, sitting up quickly. The documents were scattered on the floor beside the sofa. I must have fallen asleep while reading them.

The office was empty — eerily quiet.

Vincent was gone.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to remember. He had come in earlier, right? Or did I dream that? Surely, he must have seen me here.

The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air, confirming he had been here not long ago.

“Wait… he saw me sleeping and didn’t wake me?” I whispered softly, half in disbelief, half embarrassed.

Before I could think further, there was a light knock on the door. Vincent’s assistant stepped in politely.

“Ms. Alice,” he said with a nervous smile, “Mr. Markston instructed that once it’s closing time, I should inform you to leave the office.”

I stared at him blankly for a few seconds, then nodded slowly.

“I see… Thank you.”

He hesitated for a moment, as if unsure whether to say more, but eventually turned and left.

As the door clicked shut, I let out a quiet chuckle — the kind that wasn’t really funny.

“So, he came in… saw me sleeping… and just left,” I murmured, shaking my head. “Typical Vincent.”

I gathered the lunch box, still half-full from earlier, and packed the documents I’d been reviewing. The twilight sun filtered faintly through the large glass windows, casting long golden streaks across his empty chair.

For some reason, I stared at it longer than I should have before turning away.

Walking out of the office, the corridors were already growing quiet. Some of the staff had left; others were tidying their desks. The faint chatter from the upper floors echoed down the hallway.

When I reached my own section, I took a few moments to organize my desk — stacking the papers, switching off my computer, and packing the files I needed to review at home.

As I was about to leave, Vincent’s assistant appeared again.

“Ms. Alice, would you like me to give you a ride home?” he asked kindly.

I forced a smile, shaking my head. “No, it’s okay. Thank you. I’ll take a cab.”

He nodded and left, leaving me standing by the lobby doors.

I exhaled slowly, pressing a hand over my stomach. “Alright, babies,” I whispered softly. “Let’s go home.”

Outside, the evening air greeted me — cool and gentle. I hailed a cab and slid into the back seat, resting my head against the window.

The city lights blurred past, and all I could think about was him.

Vincent.

The way he ignored me. The way he looked through me as if I didn’t exist.

“When will you stop this, Vincent?” I whispered under my breath. “When will this cruel game end?”

But there was no answer.

Just the hum of the cab engine and the fading light of day as we drove toward the Markston Estate.

-