By the time afternoon rolls around, the office atmosphere settles into something resembling normality—at least until Ben and I find ourselves in another argument.
"I told you, it's not like that!" Ben snaps, his forehead creasing with frustration. "Why do you keep insisting even after I've explained it a hundred times?"
I shoot him a glare, my patience frayed after a long, draining day.
"Then do it yourself!" I fire back, my words sharper than I intended.
"I have too many tasks already!" Ben retorts, exasperated. "That's why I needed an assistant. But now you want me to do everything?"
At a nearby desk, Jay leans toward Jella and mutters, "Here we go again."
As our argument escalates, the door to the office swings open.
Kevin steps in, fresh from a meeting with the other team leaders.
He catches the tail end of our exchange and approaches immediately.
"Is everything alright?" he asks, his voice calm but carrying enough authority to make us freeze.
I hadn't even noticed him arrive.
The sight of him here—as our boss—still feels disorienting.
"No, sir, it's fine," Jay replies quickly, brushing off the tension. "They argue all the time."
"Yeah, like a married couple," Jella adds with a smirk. Jay chuckles beside her.
Kevin's gaze flickers between Jella and Jay, then settles on me and Ben.
His expression is unreadable, but the intensity in his eyes makes me lower mine, unwilling to meet his stare.
Without missing a beat, Kevin shifts focus.
"Mr. Mercado," he says, addressing Ben. "Come to my office. We need to discuss the new product line."
Ben nods stiffly, caught off-guard but not protesting.
I watch them disappear into Kevin's office, the door closing behind them.
The tension in the air doesn't dissipate—it just simmers quieter.
I try to focus on my screen, but unease gnaws at me.
Did Kevin catch mistakes in the designs? Was Ben in trouble because of me?
The guilt tightens in my chest.
I know I've made a few errors lately—and the last thing I want is Ben taking the fall.
Because if he does, I'll never hear the end of it.
After a few minutes, unable to sit still, I get up and approach Kevin's office.
I lift my hand to knock—then freeze.
Inside, I hear Kevin's voice, calm but unmistakably curious:
"By the way," Kevin says, "are you and Ms. Dela Cruz... a thing?"
My heart stops.
Inside, Ben sounds confused.
"Sir?"
Kevin turns from his computer, and I can imagine his steady gaze locking onto Ben.
There's a pause, thick with tension.
"Are you dating Ms. Dela Cruz?" Kevin repeats, his tone sharper now.
I hold my breath, listening, feeling like an intruder.
Ben's answer comes, careful and even:
"I don't think I should answer personal questions, sir," he says, professional but not defensive.
Silence stretches between them, heavy and loaded.
My mind races.
Why is Kevin asking that?
And why didn't Ben just deny it, the way he usually brushes off teasing at the office?
The unspoken questions hang heavily in my chest.
Ben's voice cuts through again:
"If there's nothing else about the project, sir, I'll get back to work."
I don't hear Kevin's reply—only the soft click of the door handle.
The door swings open.
Ben stops short when he sees me standing there, hand half-raised.
For a moment, we just stare at each other, startled.
Then, without a word, Ben brushes past me and returns to his desk.
I remain frozen in place.
Slowly, I turn my head and meet Kevin's eyes.
He's sitting inside the office, watching me—not cold, but unreadable.
His gaze holds something I can't quite name: a quiet intensity, a question left unasked.
The silence between us stretches long and taut.
And I realize—something has shifted.
Something I don't yet understand.