Maya POV
The worst part wasn’t that Noah kissed me. It was that he walked away like it meant nothing. It was the silence afterward. The complete radio silence.
No texts. No calls. No awkward run-ins. Just cold distance, like the kiss was some fever dream I had conjured up in a delusional moment. And honestly, maybe it was. Maybe I had imagined the way his lips clung to mine like he needed me to breathe. Maybe I had made up the trembling in his hands. The ache in his kiss.
But I knew I didn’t. Still, he treated me like I was invisible. I should have let it go. I should have buried it and moved on. But my heart? My stupid, soft, hopeless heart… it kept waiting.
Until he broke it. And not in private. Not where I could hide my tears and pretend to be okay. No.
He chose to break me in the middle of the goddamn office.
We were all gathered in the boardroom for the final run-through of the big client presentation. The tension was thick. Tim sat beside me, giving my hand a discreet squeeze under the table.
Noah hadn’t looked at me since he walked in. He stood at the front of the room, perfectly poised, speaking in his usual clipped, confident tone.
“This project reflects six months of work,” he said. “And now, with Maya’s support, we’ll be finalizing the pitch.”
Heads turned. People whispered. I sat frozen. Maya’s support. Like I was just a piece of software. A tool. Something functional. Not someone he kissed like a drowning man needing air.
I cleared my throat. “Would you like me to present my part now?”
He didn’t even look at me when he spoke.
“No,” he said, voice sharp. “I’ve already adjusted that section.”
Something stung in my chest. “I wasn’t told.”
“I didn’t think it was necessary,” he replied coldly.
Tim shifted beside me. “Dude—”
Noah raised a hand. “We’re not here to babysit emotions.”
My face burned. He looked at me finally. But not with softness. Not with care. Just coldness.
Then, in a tone louder than he needed—loud enough for everyone to hear, to really hear—he said:
“That kiss meant nothing, Maya.”
I blinked.
The room went dead silent. Noah continued, louder now, cruel and clear:
“This isn’t high school. I don’t need emotional drama in my workplace. Whatever you thought it was… it wasn’t.”
I sat there, stunned, the room spinning around me. My mouth parted, but nothing came out.
My heart? It cracked like glass dropped from a skyscraper. Everyone stared. Janice was smirking in the corner. Tim’s mouth hung open in disbelief.
I wanted to disappear. Melt into the carpet. Be anywhere but here.
I stood up, gripping the table for balance. “Excuse me—”
But then—
BAM.
The boardroom door slammed open so hard it rattled the walls.
Alex stormed in.
He looked livid. His hair was tousled, his tie loosened. His jaw clenched with fury as he strode straight toward Noah.
“Noah,” he said, voice ice cold. Noah turned to face him. “Alex, this doesn’t concern you—”
But Alex didn’t let him finish.
He swung. Hard. The punch landed square on Noah’s jaw. Gasps filled the room as Noah stumbled back, clutching his face in shock.
“I’m done,” I said, voice shaking. “I’m not doing the presentation. Find someone else.”
I didn’t wait for an answer. I didn’t need one.
I pushed past them—past the shock, past the stares, past the awkward coughs—and walked out of the boardroom with what was left of my dignity.