Blair’s eyes fluttered open, her surroundings gradually coming into focus. The weight of exhaustion still clung to her limbs, but as soon as she glimpsed the time on her phone, her breath caught in her throat.

  Two hours.

  Panic surged through her veins. She pushed herself up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed to steady her dizzy head before rushing out of the room.

  The moment she stepped into the dimly lit office, she found him.

  Ezra sat in his usual chair, the glow of multiple monitors casting sharp shadows across his face. His posture was rigid, and his fingers loosely curled around an untouched glass of whiskey resting beside his keyboard. The golden liquid barely moved, as if it had been sitting there for hours.

  But it wasn’t the screens filled with data that captured her attention; it was him.

  His blue eyes, striking even in the dim light, possessed a quiet, profound depth—one that often emerges after prolonged solitude with one’s thoughts. They appeared glassy, as if he had been grappling with an unspoken struggle.

  Blair only spared him a glance—a mere second. That was all it took.

  She knew.

  He had cried.

  A dull ache pressed against her chest, but she suppressed it before it could take hold.

  Instead of acknowledging the situation, she crossed her arms and shifted her gaze to the window, avoiding those overly revealing eyes. Her voice remained steady, but her fingers curled tightly into the fabric of her sleeve.

  “Did you find out?” she asked, her tone neutral. “Was I correct? Is someone following me?”

  Ezra exhaled slowly, tightening his grip around the whiskey glass before setting it down with deliberate care. His jaw tensed, and for a moment, he remained silent.

  Then, at last, he leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. His blue eyes, shadowed with fatigue, flickered briefly to her before settling on the monitors.

  “There’s nothing,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with frustration. “No leads, no clear evidence. The campus surveillance system has been down since the start of the academic year.” He tapped a few keys, bringing up a screen filled with security logs.

  Blair didn’t flinch; she didn’t even appear surprised. Instead, she exhaled softly, as if he had merely confirmed what she already knew.

  “I see,” she murmured, her arms still crossed, her fingers absently tracing the fabric of her sleeve. “Maybe I’m just being insane again,” she added, her voice light and almost careless.

  Ezra didn’t respond immediately; his fingers lingered on the keyboard. His expression was inscrutable, but she knew him well enough to understand—he was already contemplating the possibility.

  “My anxieties get the best of me, and suddenly I think I’m being followed.”

  His silence stretched between them, heavier than she expected.

  Blair turned away, feigning nonchalance. “You’re probably thinking the same thing,” she added, forcing a laugh. “That it’s just my paranoia acting up again.”

  She didn’t need to look at him to know that thought had crossed his mind. After all, he had witnessed her at her worst—had been there when the trauma-induced panic attacks left her gasping for air, her mind convinced of threats that weren’t real.

  She exhaled softly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other before glancing back at Ezra. “Anyway, you don’t need to worry about investigating that HRM issue anymore,” she said casually, as if the matter were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  His brows furrowed slightly, but he remained silent, watching her intently with his sharp blue eyes, waiting for an explanation.

  “I already have a recording,” she admitted, tapping her phone against her palm. “Kara and Tesse. I caught them discussing their plan to ruin me.”

  For a brief moment, Ezra’s fingers paused over the keyboard. His gaze sharpened, a flicker of surprise evident, even though he quickly masked it.

  “You already had evidence?” His voice remained steady, but Blair noticed the subtle shift in his posture—the way he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, as if reevaluating everything. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier to defend yourself?”

  Her lips curved into a faint, almost weary smile. “Because people like them don’t stop. If I interfere too soon, they’ll only find another way to break me.”

  He remained still, yet she could feel his gaze penetrating her, seeking the rationale behind her words.

  “So, I waited until they had dug their own graves.”

  Ezra leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping idly against the desk as the weight of Blair’s words settled upon him.

  She had allowed them to win—intentionally.

  It wasn’t resignation, nor was it helplessness; it was strategy. A carefully calculated move to allow Kara and Tesse to believe they had succeeded, letting them bask in their perceived victory long enough to become careless.

  His gaze flickered to her, observing the quiet confidence in her posture and the sharp intellect concealed behind those weary amber eyes. She had never intended to engage in this battle on their terms. Instead, she had been waiting—patiently and ruthlessly—for the right moment to strike.

  Blair had known from the beginning that if she defended herself too soon, the truth would be irrelevant. People would distort it, label her as manipulative, and accuse her of playing the victim. So, she allowed the rumors to proliferate, permitting the lies to spiral until they became too large to contain. Eventually, those who initiated them felt invincible.

  And now, with a single move, she would cause them to crumble under the weight of their own schemes.

  He exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on her. The real question wasn’t whether she would expose Kara and Tesse; it was who else was involved with them.

  Blair already knew the answer.

  And that meant the game was not over yet.

  Ezra’s fingers curled into fists, and his jaw tightened as he stared at her. The weight in his chest grew heavier with each passing second, pressing down on him like an unbearable burden.

  “This wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me,” he said, his voice quiet but tinged with guilt. “You wouldn’t have had to endure all of this—the humiliation, the unfairness, the hardship—if I had just, ” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before finally meeting her gaze. “If I hadn’t left you that night. If I had celebrated your birthday with you instead of—”

  Blair scoffed, interrupting him before he could spiral any further.

  “Stop.”

  He blinked, taken aback by the sharpness of her tone.

  “You don’t have to feel guilty,” she said, her voice firm yet gentle. “And you certainly don’t have to apologize.”

  His brows furrowed, frustration flickering in his blue eyes. “Blair—”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” she interjected before he could respond. “None of it was.”

  His lips parted as if to protest, but she didn’t give him the opportunity.

  “This is my life, Ezra. My fate.” She exhaled, a weary acceptance settling over her. “We all have our own predicaments. You had yours; I had mine. So, live your life and pretend I never existed. That’s what everyone else has done.” She turned away, her fingers tightening around the doorknob. “It’s easier that way.”

  Her steps faltered.

  She didn’t turn or look at him, but he noticed the way her fingers curled slightly at her sides, as if she were bracing herself.

  Seconds stretched between them, heavy with unspoken tension. And then—

  Before she could take another step, Ezra closed the gap.

  His arms encircled her from behind, drawing her close with a quiet desperation. His chin rested against the curve of her shoulder, his breath warm against her ear.

  His grip on her tightened, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cold distance she had maintained. His chest pressed against her back, his breath shallow as he spoke, his voice low and almost trembling.

  “I still need to apologize,” he muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was cruel and cold, even knowing how much I hurt you.”

  She stood still for a long moment, her body unmoving as she let the weight of his apology settle over her. Then, finally, she spoke, her voice quiet but steady, with a depth of understanding that came not from forgiveness, but from a place of painful clarity.

  “You weren’t cruel.” She breathed, her gaze fixed on the ground as she tried to keep the tremor out of her voice. “You were just… honest. And maybe that’s the hardest thing for both of us to face. But it was necessary. I understand now why you had to do it.”

  Her words lingered in the air, soft and fragile, but in her mind, the truth screamed louder than anything she could ever say aloud. “I understand now... Because just like you...” she thought, her chest tightening at the realization. “I can’t bear to be with you, not when you remind me so much of your mother.”

  The face that haunted her dreams, the woman who had tried to end her life, the woman who had orchestrated so much pain in her world. “How could I ever look at you and not see her?” She thought, the bitterness of the memory bitter on her tongue.