2

My heart clenched.

Lucas's voice came over, perfectly level.

"Yes. The company prize is for two. Just us."

Sophie's smile got sweeter.

"Then I'd better go home and pack. Are we leaving tonight?"

Lucas paused. "The flight's from Gatwick a bit after six tomorrow morning. Tonight's enough to get ready."

"Then let me buy you dinner tonight. Call it an early thank-you."

Sophie said it easily and openly.

"There's a new omakase place near the office. I'll book us in."

Around us, colleagues started up, saying Sophie moved fast.

Lucas hesitated for two seconds. I could almost feel his gaze drift toward me, but it came back quickly.

"All right. See you tonight."

He agreed.

My hand tightened on the mouse, knuckles going white.

My phone buzzed.

The screen lit up. A WhatsApp from Lucas.

"Don't be angry. It's just dinner. Going through the motions."

I didn't reply.

A minute later, another message.

"She asked. It'd be awkward to say no."

Still no reply.

In my peripheral vision, he set the phone face-down on the desk and started packing up — keys, jacket, brisk, efficient.

At five thirty, Sophie stood up on the dot, picked up her bag, and went to Lucas's desk.

"Come on, I booked six o'clock. If we're late we'll have to wait."

Lucas stood, said goodbye to the colleagues nearby, picked up his jacket, and went with her.

Around the desks, people started gathering their things. Someone was organizing drinks at the pub downstairs, a lot of noise.

Priya stood up with her bag and patted my shoulder.

"Eleanor, coming for a drink?"

"Go ahead. I need to finish this sheet."

She didn't ask twice. She clicked away in her heels.

The office slowly went quiet, and the hum of the air conditioning became very clear.

I saved the spreadsheet, shut down the computer, and leaned back in my chair with my eyes closed for a while.

My phone buzzed again.

Lucas had sent a photo of a sushi restaurant menu, with a line of text: "This place is decent. I'll bring you next time."

I turned the phone face-down on the desk, picked up my bag, and walked out.

Close to midnight, the lock turned.

Lucas came in with a paper bag in his hand and the cold from outside wrapped around him.

He set the bag on the dining table and came over to look at me.

"I brought you something. That Vietnamese pho place you said you wanted to try."

He crouched down, level with me on the sofa, and his voice was as gentle as if nothing had happened.

I looked at his face and suddenly it seemed like a stranger's.

"I'm not hungry."

He took the pho out of the bag and lifted the lid. Steam rose.

"Just have a little. You definitely didn't eat properly tonight."

"Lucas."

I didn't move.

"What did you two talk about at dinner?"

He held the spoon out to me, and his hand paused.

"Work stuff. And the plan for Santorini tomorrow."

"What plan?"

"She wants to go to Oia for the sunset first, then take photos at the black sand beach."

He smiled.

"Don't overthink it. I'll take her photos and that's that."

I looked into his eyes.

"How are you going to tell her about us?"

He froze for a second, then pushed the bowl of pho a little closer to me.

"Let's talk about that when I'm back. It'd be too sudden now. She's out with me tomorrow — it'd be awkward for everyone."

My breathing got heavier.

"Are you afraid of awkward, or are you just never planning to say it?"