Chapter 3

• As the meeting concluded, Charlotte felt a rush of conflicting emotions. She knew she had to keep her composure and focus on the task at hand, but the magnetic pull between her and Damien was almost overwhelming. When he suggested walking her to the elevator, a mix of excitement and dread coursed through her.
• The corridor felt sterile, yet somehow intimate, filled with the scent of polished wood and fresh flowers. As they walked side by side, Charlotte couldn’t help but steal glances at Damien, whose presence still had the power to send her heart racing. Six years apart had changed so much, yet here he was, looking as captivating as ever. She felt her memories flood back—the times beneath the Parisian sky, laughter shared over quiet dinners, and the promises that had felt so tangible back then.
• "Thank you for the opportunity," she said, trying to maintain a level of professionalism. "I’m excited about the necklace."
• Damien turned to her, his expression catching her off guard. For a brief moment, she saw something raw in his eyes—a flicker of the man she had once known, filled with warmth and possibility. “You’re… amazing, Charlotte,” he said softly, almost as if confessing a secret. “You’ve grown into someone beautiful, someone I’m proud to know.”
• Charlotte's breath caught in her throat. She wanted to dive into those words, to explore the possibilities they hinted at, but she could feel the chill creeping back into Damien’s demeanor, like a shadow swallowing the light. With those words hanging in the air, she felt a pang of vulnerability mixed with bitterness.
• The elevator doors were approaching, and a sense of frantic urgency washed over her as if this fleeting moment could dissolve at any second. “I didn’t expect this… this job would bring me back to you,” she said, the words weighing heavily on her tongue.
• He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Neither did I.”
• As they got closer to the elevator, Damien couldn’t help but glance at Charlotte, who radiated a beauty that took his breath away. The years had been kind to her—her skin glowed, her hair fell in elegant waves, and there was a confidence in her stride that he admired. Yet, underneath that breathtaking exterior, he felt the familiar pang of regret and longing resurfacing, feelings he had buried under layers of careful construction.
• “Charlotte,” he began, forcing the words to untangle from his thoughts, “it’s truly good to see you again.” He felt a sense of normalcy in stating the obvious, but he knew the truth was tangled in their shared memories that hung unspoken between them.
• She turned to him, a flicker of something—a spark, perhaps—shimmering in her eyes. “Thank you for inviting me. It means more than you know."
• And at that moment, he saw it: a bridge between the past and the present, almost tangible. For a fleeting second, he felt the walls he had painstakingly built start to falter, the façade of control slipping ever so slightly. “You’ve become someone I admire from afar,” he finally murmured, letting himself bask in that brief, hopeful connection.
• But just as quickly, he felt the cold rush of reality sweep in, wrapping around him like a shroud. He had responsibilities now, a fiancée who awaited him back in the office, whose love he had promised to uphold. “We should keep it professional,” he reminded himself, summoning the detachment he had fought so hard to maintain.
• Waiting for the elevator to open, Charlotte felt the moment slip like sand through her fingers. Damien’s warm words hung in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the love they once shared, yet beneath it all, she sensed the chill begin to creep back into his voice. She could see the wall springing up again between them, that cold, hardened demeanor that had guarded him for years.
• She took a step back, forcing herself to maintain a cool façade even as her heart raced. “I’m just here to do my job, right? A commission is what I signed up for,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant but feeling the tension crackle around them.
• He nodded, and she could see it again—he was slipping back behind that icy mask, burying the raw emotions they had just begun to explore. “We both have our lives now,” he replied, his tone clipped, distancing himself from their shared past. The walls were back up, as strong and unyielding as ever.
• At that moment, Charlotte felt a rush of anger and frustration. She reminded herself that she was here for work, and perhaps it was better this way. But it tore at her; the infuriating way he seemed to shut her out as if she were just another designer, not the woman who had shared his heart.
• Damien felt a pang of desolation wash over him. He had caught a glimpse of the past, a flicker of the love he had thought he buried. But Charlotte’s beauty was a reminder of everything he had lost, and the weight of his present swept in, suffocating his longing for the connection they once shared.
• As the elevator doors slid open, he was painfully reminded of what stood between them—the life he had built without her, with Ester. He fought against the instinct to reach out and pull Charlotte back, to embrace the warmth of their shared history, but the thought of losing everything he had gained was terrifying.
• “I’ll see you soon, I imagine,” he managed, his voice steady. He felt cold, and controlled, even as every part of him wanted to scream that he still cared.
• “Yeah, soon,” she echoed, her expression caught between frustration and sadness.
• A fleeting moment passed, filled with the weight of unsaid words, memories flooding like shadows in the dim light.
• As Charlotte stepped into the elevator and the doors began to close, he watched her retreat, wishing desperately that it hadn’t come to this—that they weren’t merely two people bound by a commission, that they could be something more, just one more time.
• But the doors closed, sealing away the warmth of the past and leaving him staring at the empty space where she had just stood, holding tight to the cold shell he had built around his heart. And in that silence, he felt the ache of what could have been, overshadowed by the responsibilities he had chosen to embrace.