Fake Date, Real Fate-Chapter 51: Mine, But Not

Around noon, a soft knock pulled me from the stream of numbers on my screen.

The door opened a tiny bit. "Want me to grab you lunch?"

Her voice.

I didn’t look up. I couldn’t—not right now. I already knew that if I did, I’d lose whatever fragile focus I had left.

"I’m not hungry. Go ahead and take your break."

I heard her pause. Just a beat. Then—

"Alright."

The door clicked shut again.

****

The call ended with a final exchange of polite smiles. I tapped the screen of the tablet, ending the video meeting, and set it down with more force than necessary.

Another client satisfied. Another deal sealed.

I should’ve felt accomplished.

Instead, I stood there for a moment staring into empty space at the surface of my desk before my eyes drifted toward the window.

Just a glance. That’s all it was supposed to be.

But then I saw her.

Isabella

Sitting in the restaurant across the street, framed by the window like a fucking masterpiece. Sun streaming in from above lighting her face, hair, as if she was glowing.

How I’m able to notice from this far? I don’t know. I guess I just have a sharp sight.

She was laughing.

And not at her phone or to herself—but at the guy sitting across from her.

Smiling. Relaxed in a way that said he didn’t need to try too hard. Messy hair, effortless charm.

He leaned in and whispered something in her ear and she tipped her head back, laughing again, light and unreserved.

My jaw clenched.

I folded my hand into a fist on the window.

What the hell was this?

I didn’t even know what I was feeling. Heat, maybe. Pressure building behind my ribs.

I wasn’t—jealous. That wasn’t it. I didn’t get jealous.

But this? Watching her look at someone else like that? Laugh like that?

Like he was her favorite part of the day.

I dragged in a breath, slow and sharp. My chest felt too tight. My thoughts too loud.

He said something again. She smiled again, brushing her hair behind her ear. That simple gesture made his eyes darken slightly. I knew that look.

I’d worn that look.

But he wasn’t supposed to wear it while looking at her. I turned away, pacing two steps from the window and then back, again and again. I couldn’t help it.

She was supposed to be back already. Her break had a limit.

I checked the time. Scowled. Checked again.

What was this feeling?

Why do I care who she is with or what she is smiling about?

I wasn’t—

I wasn’t her’s.

And she sure as hell wasn’t mine.

But that didn’t stop the fire low in my chest, the kind that whispered to me in a voice I didn’t want to recognize: She should be laughing with you.

I didn’t move. I kept looking. Watching and hating every goddamn second of it.

I looked out the window longer than I should have

She is still there. Still with him.

Her face was lit with that effortless smile, the kind she never wore around me. She leaned in slightly, and that guy—whoever the hell he was—looked like he was eating up every second of it.

My jaw clenched.

She was supposed to be back, typing numbers into spreadsheets, bringing me coffee, being... Isabella. Available.

Mine.

And the word, uninvited, unwelcome, flashed through my mind. Mine. I rejected it instantly. Possessive. Pathetic. I didn’t own her.

But... I need her Professionally. She was integral to the smooth operation of my life, my career. She was irreplaceable.

And now she was laughing with some... guy.

I stopped pacing. Irreplaceable. That was the key. I just needed to re-establish that──Remind her and myself of her value.

I pulled my phone out and swiped through contacts until I found her name. Isabella.

I hesitated, hovering over the call button. What to say? "Your break is over"? Too harsh. "Everything okay?" Pathetic, again. I needed something... neutral. Something to subtly remind her of her responsibilities.

An idea sparked. I typed a quick text: Where are you?

I barely waited to see if it delivered before I shoved the phone into my jacket pocket and left the office like something was pulling me by the collar.

I don’t remember making the decision. One second I was standing by the window and the next I was standing downstairs. Through the elevator. Through the lobby. I barely registered the greetings from employees as I passed by, walking like I had a purpose when really —I didn’t even know what the hell I was doing.

Except I did.

I stepped outside and the sun smacked me in the face, but it didn’t do a damn thing to cool the heat building inside me.

And there she was.

Coming out of the restaurant like she hadn’t just spent her entire lunch break making my insides twist.

She was laughing again, brushing her hair behind her ear. Sunlight hit her like it was doing her a favor.

He leaned in and said something that made her laugh

again

Then he touched her arm.

I froze mid-step. What the hell?

I didn’t even think—just stood there, fists clenched at my sides, watching this idiot put his hands on her like he’d earned the right.

My... contracted girlfriend.

Employee. Whatever.

But he was looking at her like he wanted more and she wasn’t stopping him.

That anger—sharp and sour—tightened my chest.

She turned—finally—and spotted me across the street.

Her smile faded like someone had flipped a switch.

Good.

I didn’t stop staring.

The corners of her eyes crinkled slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face before settling own into a carefully neutral expression. It was the face she wore at work, the mask of professional courtesy I had gotten used to.

She said something to the guy, and he turned casually, following her gaze. Didn’t even blink at the sight of me. He just gave her a lazy grin and lifted a hand to wave at her

She gave him a tiny smile, then turned and crossed the street.

She was walking towards me now.

But I didn’t move.

I didn’t say anything.

I just stood there, simmering in something sharp and volatile and completely foreign to me.

Whatever this was—I didn’t want it.

But I wanted even less to see her walk out of that restaurant with him.

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