Page 35 of Grumpy Orc CEO

"Jarvin, you may be my boss, but I'm realizing I’ve come to see you as more than just a colleague. We’re…friends. I'm here if you want to talk about it."

The memory stings and I take the chance to be vulnerable. "A few years ago, I lost someone very close to me. My younger brother, Arok. He was only twenty-five." The memory hits me like a wave, but I push through. "He was always full of life, always ready to take on the world. Losing him... it changed everything for me."

Lucy's eyes soften with empathy. She reaches out instinctively, her hand hovering over mine for a moment before she gently touches it. The warmth of her touch is grounding.

"I'm so sorry, Jarvin," she says softly. "That must have been incredibly hard."

"It was," I admit, feeling the old ache resurface but also a sense of relief in sharing something so personal with her. "It made me realize how fragile life is and how important it is to cherish the people who matter."

She squeezes my hand gently, her touch conveying more than words ever could. "Thank you for sharing that with me," she says, her voice filled with sincerity. "It means a lot."

A weight lifts from my shoulders as I see the understanding in her eyes. For the first time in a long while, I feel truly seen—like I've let someone into a part of my life that I've kept hidden away.

We sit there for a moment longer, the silence between us comfortable and filled with unspoken promises. In that quiet lunch moment, I know we've crossed a new threshold in our relationship.

Lucy looks up with a sad smile. “It’s not the same, but,” she begins, her voice steady but tinged with vulnerability, “That’s how I felt with the breakup that sparked my move here. It was messy and it took me a long time to recover from it. That’s when I decided to start over.”

I nod, feeling a pang of empathy. “I can relate. I’ve had my share of messy breakups too. Healing takes time, and it’s not always easy. I didn't realize it was the breakup that brought you here.”

She nods, looking at me as she opens up. “It wasn’t just the breakup itself—it was everything that came with it. The sense of betrayal, the loss of trust. Until recently, I was scared to let my guard down and trust again.”

“I get it. That kind of stuff is shitty, and it changes your whole perspective on life,” I say gently. “It’s like you build these walls to protect yourself from getting hurt again.”

"Exactly," she says, meeting my eyes as understanding passes between us.

I understand her professional reservations, but I get these moments of her, these glimpses where I see what we could be, and it kills me because someone did this to her and it’s the complete opposite of what I want to do.

I reach across the table and cover her hand with mine. “Lucy, I'm sorry someone made you feel like that. You deserve better and I want you to know how much this time with you has meant to me."

"Thank you. That really means a lot to me. It’s been so hard, but things have been better lately." The warmth in her voice tugs at something deep inside me, making me want to pull her into a reassuring embrace.

"You don't have to thank me, Lucy," I murmur, giving her hand a comforting squeeze in return. "I'm just glad you're here with me."

CHAPTER 20

Lucy

This morning I gather the reports Jarvin requested, smoothing out the edges as I head towards his office. There's a slight flutter of nervousness mixed with excitement in my chest. Maybe we'll have a moment to share something more than just work. The thought brings a small smile to my lips as I finally can admit that I feel something for him.

As I approach his office, I hear laughter spilling out from inside, light and carefree. Curious, I peek through the slightly ajar door and see Jarvin talking to another woman. She's laughing, her hand resting lightly on his arm, and he seems relaxed, his usual confident demeanor softened by amusement.

Although his expression is hard to read, my heart sinks at the sight, a pang of jealousy twisting my insides. I bite my lip, fighting the urge to turn away, but I can't tear my eyes from the scene.

She turns to him, her curvy body leaning close, saying something I can't quite make out. I watch him sigh, shaking his head. Is that endearment? Part of me wants to interrupt and catch him. The ‘I told you so’ hovers in my grasp. But the other part of me, the part that knew better, is crushed.

Memories flood back, unwelcome and sharp. Similar moments with other women, the just friends cover ups. The pang of jealousy and insecurity twists in my gut, making it hard to breathe.

I step back, clutching the reports tightly against my chest. My mind races with doubts, questioning everything. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Maybe it's just a friendly conversation, I reason. But the sight of them together feels too familiar, too close to the hurt I'I thought I could finally leave behind.

I quickly retreat, my heart pounding in my chest. The reports crinkle under my grip, my hands trembling as I struggle to process the wave of emotions crashing over me. Shock, anger, and that all-too-familiar hurt again swirl together, making it hard to breathe.

My ex's face flashes before my eyes, the way he used to laugh and flirt with other women, always brushing off my concerns. His dismissive smirk and casual shrugs felt like knives twisting in my heart, each one deeper than the last. The betrayal cuts deep, reopening wounds I thought had started to heal. It’s as if no time has passed, and I'm right back to that painful place, where trust was just a fragile illusion.

I lean against the cool wall of the hallway, clutching the reports tightly. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away, refusing to let them fall. This isn't like before, I tell myself, but the doubt creeps in, whispering insidious thoughts. Why would Jarvin be interested in me when he can have moments like that with someone else?

Every kind word and shared smile with Jarvin feels tainted now, overshadowed by the fear that he's not different. I try to steady my breathing, but it's no use. The hurt feels too raw, too real.

Anger bubbles up alongside the hurt. How could he? After everything we’ve shared. The lunches, the conversations—were they all just a game to him? The thought makes me clench my fists tighter around the reports until my knuckles turn white.

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