When History Repeats Itself

In the Quiet

Right after we left the studio, Zynelle had arranged a debrief at her office. The HR Manager and the Publicist were already waiting when we got there.

The agenda? Our return to work. I was just relieved we were finally going back the next morning.

I'd hoped our first day back would start off quietly, something resembling normal. That hope was dashed the moment Zynelle announced we'd be arriving together—same car, same entrance, same moment.

"A triumphant return," she called it.

I groaned aloud.

Dom chuckled beside me.

The HR Manager's expression gave nothing away.

The next morning, I stepped out of the house and did a double take—Marcus was behind the wheel of Dom's car.

"Morning, Miss Effah," he said cheerfully. "Today's my last day. Zynelle and Nick thought I should be the one to drive you both in."

I'd secretly been hoping for a few minutes alone with Dom before work, maybe a quick kiss, a shared smile, something intimate to mark the moment. So much for that.

Dom, however, was completely unbothered. The moment I slid into the car, he leaned over and crushed his mouth onto mine. No shy peck either—this was a full, sweeping kiss of triumph. I felt the joy in it, the victory, the sheer Dom-ness of it. For a second, I forgot Marcus was even there.

"Good morning!" Dom beamed when he finally pulled back.

I reached for a tissue and dabbed my lip gloss off his mouth. "Dom, we're not alone," I hissed, heat creeping up my neck as I glanced at the rearview mirror to see if Marcus had noticed.

"Marcus," Dom called out casually, "do you kiss your wife good morning?"

"Like it's my religion, sir," Marcus responded smoothly, a grin in his voice.

The rest of the ride passed without incident, although I stayed mortified the entire time, silently begging the universe to fast-forward to when I could be alone in my office again.

When we pulled up at Chase Men, Dom came around and opened the door for me.

We stood at the steps of Chase Men—our invisible line. Beyond this point, we were colleagues again. Carefully edited versions of ourselves.

"We're back," Dom said, exhaling.

"Like we never left," I replied, and together we walked up the steps, hands pointedly to ourselves.

For a second, I braced for the opposite—sideways glances, whispered judgment.

But then came the applause. The atrium was filled with employees—clapping, smiling, cheering.

We stood there, side by side, a little stunned but smiling all the same. The HR Manager even threw us a thumbs up.

"Good morning, wonderful people of Chase Men!" Dom called out, flashing his signature charm.

I'd never get used to how easily he flipped the switch—from man who kissed me breathless to boss in a suit, leading the room with nothing but a smile

He then nodded toward the elevators. "After you," he said to me.

Somehow, I managed to walk with a straight back and steady steps despite the dozens of eyes following me.

Inside the private elevator, I turned to Dom, grinning. "Was it as hard for you as it was for me not to hold your hand?"

"I've never worked so hard in my life to keep my hands to myself," he laughed.

When the elevator doors opened and we stepped onto the top floor, Paba was already waiting.