Chapter 2
His tone carried a kind of seriousness I'd never heard from him before.
I looked down and took a sip of champagne.
The champagne was sweet.
The bitterness came from somewhere else.
When the annual party wrapped up, I lingered in the corner for a long time.
The crowd began to spill out of the hall.
I finally looked up, scanning the sea of people for Carlos.
He was by the entrance, slipping Cecilia's coat over her shoulders.
He moved so naturally, like he'd done it countless times before.
I walked over.
"Carlos," I called his name.
He didn't seem to hear me.
"Carlos," I called his name again.
Cecilia turned around first.
She glanced at me and said, "Your assistant's looking for you."
Assistant.
That word jabbed at me like a needle.
Carlos turned around only after Cecilia pointed me out, his brows knitting slightly.
He glanced at me and said, "What is it?"
His voice was distant, almost indifferent.
I wanted to ask him when we were heading home together.
But staring at his face, I suddenly couldn't get a single word out.
"I'm fine," I said.
Carlos glanced at Cecilia.
"Go home by yourself. I'll take Cecilia home," he said.
So, according to him, I was just a subordinate who needed to be told to go home by myself.
I nodded.
Cecilia flashed me a polite smile.
There was no malice in her smile, but that very politeness made it all feel even more absurd.
Carlos had already turned away, walking side by side with Cecilia toward the exit.
I stood there, watching their backs as they walked away.
"Ms. Wood?"
Someone called out to me from behind.
It was Zoe from my department.
"That was Mr. Nelson's girlfriend, right? She's really pretty," Zoe said.
"She's his partner," I replied.
"Oh." Zoe dropped her voice. "I heard you're just Mr. Nelson's assistant? I always thought you were more than that..."
So in the end, I was just his assistant.
All those things I thought made me special? Turns out, they didn't mean a thing.
I turned and walked out.
There were still a few people waiting for the elevator in the hallway.
"Mr. Nelson sure is going out of his way for that investment rep," someone whispered.
"Turns out that award-winning product director is just his assistant," another person added.
Every word hit me like a slap in the face.
I stepped into the elevator, my mind completely blank.
As I stepped out of the building, the cold wind hit me full force.
I stood by the curb, trying to hail a cab.
My phone buzzed.
[Busy tonight. Not coming home.]
Just five words.
No explanation, no apology.
I stared at the screen for a long time.
Then I slowly typed back: [Okay.]
The cab arrived.
I headed back to the apartment Carlos and I shared.
I was heading home alone now.
The cab started moving.
The city lights outside melted into a blur.
This was what not being cared about felt like.
It wasn't anger. It wasn't feeling wronged.
It was a chill that went straight to my heart.
Suddenly, everything I'd worked for over the years felt ridiculous, like I'd been acting out a solo drama for no one but myself.
So this was what it looked like when he was really caring about someone.
But he had never acted this way with me.
I gripped my phone so tight that my knuckles turned white.
I kept wondering if I ever mattered to him at all.
The next morning, I walked into the office like nothing had happened.
Inside the elevator, people were gossiping about the annual party.
"Did you hear Mr. Nelson personally drove that investment rep home last night?" someone whispered.
"Yeah, I saw it myself. There's definitely something going on between them," another person replied.
I kept my head down, staring at my phone screen.
That message, "Busy tonight. Not coming home," was still sitting there in the chat window.
No response.
Absolutely nothing.
I took a deep breath and stuffed my phone into my pocket.
Business as usual in the office.
I sat down at my desk and turned on my computer.
An email popped up on the screen, it was a notice for today's product review meeting.
I stared at the meeting title, my fingers pausing on the keyboard for a few seconds.
I was supposed to be the one leading this meeting.
At 9:45, the conference room door swung open.
I looked up.
It was Carlos.
Cecilia was standing right beside him.
"Everyone, let me introduce Ms. Gonzalez, our most important investment partner," Carlos said.
Carlos's voice sounded warm and friendly.
It was a kind of warmth I almost never heard from him.
"Ms. Gonzalez is here to sit in on the meeting today. Let's welcome her," Carlos said.
Applause filled the conference room.
I clapped along with everyone else.
Cecilia flashed a smile at everyone, scanning the room as she took it all in.
When she spotted me, her gaze lingered for a second.
There was nothing surprised in her eyes, just an air of quiet confidence, like she belonged there.
"Mr. Nelson, where should I sit?" Cecilia asked.
Carlos pointed to the head of the table.
"Sit here. You'll see everything clearly," he said.
That used to be my seat.
Every Monday, that was where I sat for the product meeting.
Now, Cecilia made her way over, gracefully pulled out the chair, and sat down like she belonged there.