Zephyr's POV II

Thirty minutes later, I emerge from the shower, clean but still feeling hollow. Ellie sits comfortably on my one-seater, while Holden is sprawled on my couch, scrolling through his phone.

"Better," Holden comments as I walk in, placing his phone on the coffee table.

I sit down across from them, the weight of their expectant gazes heavy on me. For a moment, I stay silent, gathering my thoughts. Then, I begin.

"I got dumped," I say simply, my voice devoid of emotion.

Ellie's eyes widen. "What? By Ji Woo?"

Holden leans forward. "Wait... Ji Woo? You guys were together for, what, seven years?"

"Yeah. Seven years," I say bitterly.

Ellie asks comfortingly. "Oh, Zeph... I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"She said she didn't love me. Never did. And-" I hesitate, my jaw tightening, "-she cheated on me, though that was my fault."

Ellie's expression contorts with sympathy. "Zephyr, you should never blame yourself for something like that."

"Yeah, man. Shit like that isn't justifiable, no matter the circumstances. What she did was wrong, no disagreements," Holden says, agreeing.

I give them a small smile. They're right. What she did has no proper justification. "She said, and I quote, 'It's not you, it's me.'"

Holden scoffs. "Of course someone like her would use that line."

My stomach churns. Although she had left me miserable, I don't like others talking badly about her.

I continue, "I tried appeasing her, begging for-"

Holden hisses as if my words physically pains him. "You begged?" he asks, disbelief coating each word.

Shamelessly, I admit, "Yes, I did. I was that-no, I am that in love with her. And I think if I could go back in time, I'd still do it."

Holden lets out a low whistle. "You reduced yourself to that, and she still-" He cuts himself off. "What a piece of-"

"Holden," I interject angrily, shooting him a pointed glare.

"No, he's right," Ellie says, her voice sharper now. "She is a piece of-well, you know."

"Zephyr," Ellie softly continues, "it's okay to be angry. You have every right to be. But it's also okay to grieve. You've been through so much. Let yourself feel it."

I stare at her, her words sinking in. Grieve? The idea feels foreign to me. I've always had to push through, keep going no matter what.

"Grieve, huh. I don't have the right to. After all, it's my fault. It's equally my fault the relationship didn't work."

"Don't think that, Zephyr. It wasn't your fault. You tried hard; she didn't. She didn't love you. She didn't try. So don't take the blame."

I nod. For the first time in days, I feel a glimmer of something other than despair. It isn't much, but it's a start.

Meanwhile, Holden, who was sprawled on my couch moments ago, seems deep in concentration, now sitting straight, eyebrows knotted, hands clasped, and jaw clenched. He must be thinking of something important for the usually laid-back Holden to look so serious.

_______

It seemed his serious demeanor was just the calm before the storm because he had an outburst.

We argued, then settled before they left. I busied myself cleaning the mess I had created. Trust me, heartbreak is no excuse to let your living environment turn to shit.

After finishing tidying up, I was placing documents on my desk when I accidentally knocked something over. I reached down to grab it and found two Tiffany boxes that had fallen out of it's bag.

I picked them up carefully and left the room. Walking to my bedroom, I placed both boxes in a drawer in my dresser.

I sighed. Now I felt gloomy again. Maybe I should go out for lunch and take a breather-I hadn't done that in a long while.

I drove all the way to Holden's office a while later, but the events of the rest of the day are a story for another time.

________

I push the door open to the place that ended it all.

Is it pathetic that I was back here? Yes, it is. Pathetic-I've been using that word a lot lately, and I've been feeling it even more. Perhaps it'll become a favorite in my dictionary.

I walk towards the main bar. Even though I've been here once, I didn't get the chance to taste their drinks. You're wondering why I'm here? So am I. I've been doing well these past few weeks, really well, but this evening, I stumbled on one of Ji Woo's posts. I hadn't realized I was still following her. And now I am back down the rabbit hole.

Blackout Coven-what a cool name. Maybe I should rebrand my company. Instead of SoftPulse, how about Soft Coven or Blackout Pulse? I should put some thought into it.

"What can I get you, sir?"

I didn't realize someone had approached until the bartender's voice snaps me out of my reverie.

"Oh, um, some whiskey," I reply nonchalantly. I didn't put much thought into what I'd order-this was all impulsive anyway.

"Coming right up. I'll give you a taste of the good stuff."

I just nod with a small smile. As long as it is alcohol and it can get me drunk, I don't care.

While the bartender fetches the bottle, I stare off into space absentmindedly until, for the second time this evening, I'm pulled from my thoughts.

A shocked little whisper catches my attention. "M-Mr. Lane?"

I turn to look. A woman stands beside me, her wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

I recognize her but can't place where from. I gloss over my memory. Then it hits me-she's one of my employees.

"Hi. Melinda, right?" I greet.

"I'm sorry, I think you've confused me with someone else," she corrects politely.

What? I'm confused now. I'm sure I know her-or am I mistaken?

"Wait, I'm sorry if I'm mistaken. But aren't you my employee? Aren't you the group leader of Group 2 in the software development department?" I ask, trying to clear up the misunderstanding.

"I am your employee, and I am the group leader of Group 2, but my name's not Melinda," she says with a polite smile.

Oh. So I got her name wrong. I've never been great at remembering names. I chuckle awkwardly. "Ah, I'm sorry. Your name's Melissa." I apologize with a small smile.

She shakes her head. "It's not."

It's not? Then what is it?

The bartender, who's been watching our back-and-forth with amusement, interrupts, handing me my drink. "Here's your drink, sir. Mind if I ask a question?"

"Thanks. Go ahead," I say, matching his polite tone.

"So, what's your relationship with my cousin? A one-night stand I don't know about?" he jokes.

Simultaneously, we both answer:

"Her boss."
"His employee."

The bartender nods. "Figures. She could never bag a guy like you. But a girl can dream, can't she?" He quips.

The woman-his cousin-gasps in mock offense, shoving his shoulder.

I let out a genuine laugh-a hearty one, something haven't done in a long time. Their dynamic reminds me of Holden and me: the jabs, the banter. It brings back fond memories.

The bartender, who's been grinning, suddenly narrows his eyes at me like I'm a target.

Before I can question him, he blurts out, "Doesn't he look like the guy from that night?"

I assume he is talking to his cousin because this is my first time meeting him. Curiosity gets the best of me.

"Which guy?" I ask at the same time his cousin asks, "Which night?"

"The guy who got dumped here a few weeks ago," the bartender clarifies.

I freeze.

Another guy, just like me? "I'd like to hear more," I say.

"Well, it was during my shift. That night was rough for the dude-even Eva here can bear me witness."

Eva. Her name is Eva.

"We were both here when it went down," he says.

"I saw this guy sitting at a table for almost an hour before his chick finally arrived. I thought he was being stood up," the bartender begins.

Slowly, the story sounds more and more familiar. Coincidence? I think not.

"They started getting loud, and their argument caught everyone's attention. Normally, I wouldn't bother listening-I see breakups all the time. But this one? Oof." He winces. "Seven years together, and she cheated on him. Man, it was brutal. My dude even begged, but she was ice cold."

It hit me.

The dude was me.

He's narrating my breakup, the one I've been trying to forget.

When he finishes, he finally notices his cousin giving him a death glare but doesn't seem fazed.

I turn to her-Eva. She knew. She's known all along. She'd been there that night.

"If you'll excuse me I'd like to have a moment with your cousin in regards to work stuff." I inform the bartender, trying to sound professional, don't want to come off as rude.

"But it's the weekend," she tries protesting.

"And I'm your boss," I dismiss her before guiding her to a quieter corner outside the bar.

"You were there," I say, breaking the silence. "You know. You've known everything."

She avoids my gaze. I search her face for answers.

"Why?" I ask, my first question. "Why didn't you speak out? If you wanted you could have let the whole world know, you could have sold information like that to the paparazzi, tabloids, made a lot of money but you didn't, you still haven't. Why?" I ask quizzed.

She chuckles softly. "Not everything in life's about money. That day, I saw a broken, pitiable man-a man who'd been betrayed. I couldn't do that to him, to you. It'd be inhumane. I wouldn't want people invading my privacy, so why do that to you? I won't lie-I disliked you so much for such a long time- I had just seen you as an entitled boss, distant and self-absorbed, but that day, I saw a different person- vulnerable, sad, and delicate. I might have zero exp when it comes to love or romance but even I found that heartbreaking. I made a vow-to silently watch over you."

Her words stun me.

I drape my coat over her shoulders. "Take this," I say quietly.

After a moment, I add, "You know, thanks." I just have this inexplicable gratitude. For not selling me out, for caring, for being truthful.

I exhale, feeling a weight lift. "That day-and even now-I feel so pathetic," I admit. "No I have to say it, it's the truth, I probably looked desperate and miserable but a man in love is a fool."

She looks at me with sympathy, and I hate it.

"Don't look at me like that," I say firmly. "I don't like it, I saw it in your cousin's eyes too, though he didn't mince his words. That was why I didn't tell Holden or anybody, I didn't want that pity."

She stops.

"You know May, you are a really good person, I know I'm not the best boss but you are definitely the best employee." I commend sincerely.

Her lips form a pout, that looks adorable yet irks me.

Concerned, I ask, "What happened? You're pouting."

She shakes her head, "You got my name wrong again. It's not May, it's Eva."

Again? It just keeps slipping my mind. I commit it to memory but feel the need to tease her, "Oh, I'm so sorry, Helen."

She blinks rapidly in frustration.

To make it up to her, I say, "Drinks are on me tonight."

She slings her hand over my shoulder, I give her the side eye, watching her cautiously, I tease her deliberately getting her name wrong, "We haven't reached that stage yet Riley."

"It's Eva." She says, anger seeping in her tone.

I look at her, then smirk, I guess I could concede today, "We haven't reached that stage, Eva." I say stretching her name.

She gapes.

I just laugh.

_______

The rest of the night, we talked, laughed, and drank. By the end, she convinced me to let her use my first name-only when we're drinking, of course.

--------

Yahahaha! I'm sleep deprived but it's worth it.

It just so happened that I didn't have writer's block tonight but the downside is that it's past midnight.

Well anyways an update.

Partially edited because my brain needs rest, and I wouldn't want my sleep deprived brain to malfunction, wouldn I?

So whenever I don't have writer's block next, it'll be fully edited.

Passed the 2000 words mark.