BORROWED NIGHTS

The moment she returned to the office, she immediately sensed the heaviness in the air. Thankfully, she had already composed herself before sitting back at her desk. Her mind was a mess, of that she was certain. But she had long mastered the art of masking her feelings—just like now, while she stood face to face with the head of the Finance Department, handing over the report that supported the inconsistency Troy had pointed out. 

By afternoon, she arrived first at the conference room. It was their scheduled meeting with the event planner for the upcoming anniversary. She didn't wait for Troy. She had already sent him the full schedule for the day—it was up to him if he wanted to show up. Besides, she could handle everything on her own. All she needed from him in the end was his signature.

She was surprised when he walked in exactly at one o'clock. He didn't say a word, but she noticed the quick glance he threw her way before sitting at the far end of the table.

The meeting lasted an hour. She barely absorbed anything. Every time she was asked something, she had to clear her throat before responding. All she could do was skim through the hard copy of the proposed activities.

In the morning, there would be a charity event at the foundation Troy had chosen—a tradition for every anniversary. The formal celebration would be held in the evening.

When the meeting ended, Troy approached her.

"Maxine," he called. "Can we talk?"

She froze, only then realizing the others had already left. Now it was just the two of them. Slowly, she stopped gathering her papers.

"We have nothing to talk about, Sir."

"Maxine, please—"

"If it's not about work, I'll get going. I have things to finish at my desk. Excuse me."

"I didn't know you sent the documents already. I haven't even che—"

She cut him off coldly.

"It's fine. But next time, do your own research. I may fall short in other aspects, but when it comes to my job, I don't play around."

Troy fell silent.

"Maxine, it wasn't like that."

She gave him a bitter smile.

"I'm not blind, Troy. I know exactly what you're doing. And if you're the kind who loves the chase… I'm sorry. I've been chasing you for years. So if I'm finally tired, that's not on me."

She saw how his lips parted, stunned and speechless.

That was her cue to leave, before the weight she had been carrying crushed her entirely. Her knees were shaking. Her hands were trembling. And her heart? Breaking all over again.

After work, she stopped by the grocery store. She just wanted to fill her fridge. It was strange—how exhaustion made her crave the simplicity of mundane things.

As she picked out some grapes, she felt someone approach her.

"Maxine."

She turned around and found Seymour. Her brows furrowed in surprise. Was the world really this small?

"Small world," he said with a light smile, holding a basket in one hand.

"You shop here too?" she asked, stepping slightly away. She was a bit uneasy with how close they were standing.

"Actually," he smiled wider, "I came here on purpose."

She fell silent but not surprised, honestly, she had a feeling.

"What do you mean?" she asked, feigning curiosity.

"I asked Danica where you usually shop. I hope that's not too creepy."

Of course. Seymour had already charmed Danica enough to extract information from her. She'd definitely scold her friend the next time they met.

"I'll let this one slide. But don't do it again. Anyway, what do you need?"

"I'm sorry. I just... wanted to check on you. After what happened earlier. I shouldn't have invited you to lunch. I think it just made things worse…"

"Thanks," she muttered. "Appreciate it." Even though she didn't like that he followed her here.

"Let me drive you home?"

Now that caught her off guard.

What the hell? Was this why he came here? She didn't want to be rude, but she wasn't in the mood to be associated with any man, especially not right now. She just wanted to be alone, to think.

"Seymour—"

"If it's, okay?"

She declined, and to his credit, he didn't insist. But as soon as she walked out of the grocery, she noticed her car had a flat tire.

She sighed. "Seriously?"

"Looks like you need a ride," Seymour said behind her, keys in hand, looking like the universe was siding with him.

She had no choice but to go with him. He even helped load her groceries into the trunk. They didn't speak during the drive. She didn't know why, of all times, her car had to break down now. She had already called a mechanic; her car would be brought to her condo once it was fixed.

When they reached her condo, Seymour helped her carry the bags. There were too many for her to refuse.

"Thank you," she said. "You really didn't have to."

"I wanted to," he replied softly.

When they reached her floor, she was stunned to find Troy standing by her door. He was leaning against it, staring at his phone like he'd been waiting. When he saw her, he stood up straight but his expression changed when he noticed who was behind her.

She let out a breath.

Could this day get any worse?

"Max..." he called, as if testing the waters.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, feeling the ache in her chest resurface.

"Can we talk?" he asked, almost pleading. But she knew that tone too well.

Fuck it. He wanted her in his bed—that much was clear from those glances. She knew him too well.

"Max, I'll go ahead. Text me if you need anything," Seymour said. She saw Troy take the grocery bags from him without a word.

"Thanks…" she said. Seymour nodded once, casting Troy a warning look before walking away.

She opened the door to her condo, knowing Troy was right behind her. But she let him in.

"You've been avoiding me because of him?" he asked casually but that only triggered her temper.

"Excuse me?" she snapped.

"You avoided me all day and now you let him bring you home?"

"Stop it, Troy. Seymour has nothing to do with this."

She turned away and walked to the kitchen to grab some water, but he followed close behind.

"Don't deny it. What—everything's just a coincidence now? You just happened to run into him at the grocery? Please. Don't make me laugh." His voice dripped with sarcasm. She caught the tight veins on his neck, the way his jaw clenched—like he needed to break something just to release the storm brewing inside him.

"I don't owe you an explanation, Troy. We're not in a relationship." Her voice was frigid. God, if she'd known he'd show up, she would've stayed the night at Danica's. He was exhausting.

"You've got some nerve," he snapped. "Letting him into your condo? What's next? You cook him dinner? Share a bottle of wine?"

She let out a dry, bitter laugh. "And so, what? At least I'm not like you—doing whatever the hell it is you do in your office." Her fists clenched as the image of Trina's smeared lipstick and tousled hair from earlier flashed in her mind.

"What do you mean?" he asked, brows furrowed. But she didn't flinch. He wanted a fight then he'd get one.

"Do you hear yourself, Maxine? This isn't you…"

"You're hilarious, Troy. This is me. And maybe you should stop questioning my choices, since I don't comment on yours."

"So what, you think he's better than me? That he can give you what I can't?"

"He's not the issue. You are."

She was about to return to the living room when Troy suddenly grabbed her arm. She knew he was angry, but she couldn't tell if she should close her eyes from the way he touched her.

"Don't walk away from me like that."

"Then don't pull me like I belong to you."

The next thing she knew, he kissed her; harsh, unapologetic, desperate. Her breath caught in her throat. She hated how her body remembered him, even when her mind screamed no. For a second, she let it happen.

"You're mine, Maxine. Only mine. No one else gets to have you," he said, staring at her lips.

She yanked her arm free and slapped him—hard.

"Don't kiss me just because you know I'll give in," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Please... don't use my feelings to manipulate me."

Troy stood frozen.

"Get out."

"Maxine—"

"I said leave. Now!" she screamed, voice cracking. Her lips trembled, and she knew she was seconds away from breaking.

Troy had no choice but to walk out in silence. As soon as the door closed, she sank to the floor. The tears came crashing down. The weight finally caught up to her.

She cried. For the years she spent waiting. For every night she felt like she didn't matter. For the man who only kissed her when he thought she was slipping away. For a love that never did anything but break her.

Finally, she was tired.

As she sobbed on the floor, something slipped out from the side of the grocery bag.

A small keychain.

The customized one Troy had given her during her first year as his secretary. Her initials engraved on it. A simple gift she once held so close.

She stared at it for a long time. Then, without a second thought, she tossed it under the cabinet—far, somewhere it wouldn't be easily found.

"Just like how you threw me away," she whispered.

And with that, she curled into herself and let the silence devour her whole.