When We Meet Again

The soft morning light spilled through the half open curtains, painting the room in warm, sleepy hues. Ines moved quietly around her bedroom, trying not to wake anyone though she knew Rose had always been a heavy sleeper. Still, today was important. Today was the interview that could change everything. The kind of opportunity she had been waiting for, dreaming about, and preparing for years. Her stomach fluttered with a mix of anticipation and nerves, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

But Rose had a stubborn habit of sleeping late. Ines glanced at her best friend, sprawled across the bed, hair messy and mouth slightly open. Smiling, she leaned over and shook her gently.

“Rose… wake up. Big day today,” Ines whispered, nudging her shoulder.

Muffled groans answered her. Rose blinked a few times, eyes half-lidded, still wrapped in the warmth of the blanket. “Five more minutes…” she muttered, voice thick with sleep.

Ines sighed, pretending to scold her but secretly enjoying the familiar warmth that only Rose’s sleepy mornings could bring. “Nope,” she said firmly, hands on her hips. “You know I can’t do this alone. You have to cheer me on, sleepyhead.”

Rose yawned, stretching lazily, every limb moving as though waking up required Herculean effort. “Fine, fine… but you better not be late for your big interview, or I’ll haunt you in every dream,” she said, smirking despite her drowsiness.

Ines laughed softly, tugging on the strap of her bag. “Thanks, Rose. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d probably eat cereal for dinner again and wear mismatched socks to impress someone,” Rose teased, finally sitting up. Her eyes softened, looking at Ines with the warmth of unshakable friendship. “But hey… go in there and show them what you’re made of. You’ve got this.”

Ines felt a flutter of nervous excitement mixed with calm. Rose’s presence always grounded her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. With a final smile, she leaned down and hugged her friend briefly.

“See you later, sleepyhead,” she whispered.

“Good luck,” Rose murmured, still half-asleep, waving lazily as Ines slipped out the door.

The city greeted her with its usual morning hum ,the distant honks, the faint smell of fresh bread from the bakery nearby, the rush of people already lost in their routines. She adjusted the strap of her bag, feeling the familiar weight settle against her shoulder like a reminder that this was her path, her effort, her future. Each step she took toward the building made her heart beat faster, not just from nerves but from a strange, unexplainable tension that made the air around her feel heavier.

She paused at a street corner, watching people move in and out of coffee shops, some reading on their phones, some rushing with purpose. The world moved on without them noticing her, yet her mind refused to focus on anything other than the moment she would walk through the door, into the room, and face him.

A small sigh escaped her lips. Calm down, Ines. It’s just an interview, she told herself, but the lie felt hollow, even as her heels clicked against the polished floor of the building.

The lobby was bustling with candidates, some nervously checking their watches, some reviewing notes, others standing in clusters whispering encouragement to each other. Ines’s pulse quickened. She straightened her blazer, smoothed a stray strand of hair, and took a deep breath. This was it.

She paused at the entrance to the interview room, smoothing her hair and straightening her blazer once more. The door loomed before her, sleek, imposing, the kind that felt like a threshold between her past and her future. She opened it and stepped inside and everything shifted.

There he was.

Eric.

Sitting behind the sleek desk, hands folded, eyes scanning some papers before looking up and suddenly locking onto her. The man she had loved years ago, the one who had disappeared from her life, was staring straight at her.

Ines’s chest tightened. Her calm, composed exterior wavered for a fraction of a second before she forced herself into a professional smile.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice steady, though her heart beat faster than it had in years.

Eric’s lips pressed into a thin line, eyes flicking briefly down to his papers and back to her. “Good morning,” he said, voice measured, professional, cold. Perfectly composed yet there was something in his eyes, something that betrayed a flicker of recognition, of something unspoken.

The interview began with questions that were perfectly normal her experience, her skills, her achievements but under the calm surface, each glance exchanged between them felt like a silent earthquake. Every word was professional; every gesture carefully measured. Yet the air between them was thick, charged with memories neither would mention.

Eric leaned forward slightly at one point, lowering his voice. “Ines… it’s been a long time. Are you… okay?”

Ines’s pulse skipped. The softness in his tone, the concern, the faint trace of his old self, she refused to let it reach her. She straightened her posture, meeting his eyes evenly. “I’m fine. Thank you,” she said, her voice clipped, clearly signaling that the conversation would not cross professional boundaries.

Just as Eric opened his mouth to say more, the door behind him clicked open. A tall figure appeared Eric’s brother, Damian.

“Eric,” Damian said briskly, glancing at Ines with polite curiosity. “Everything ready for the meeting with the board?”

Eric’s eyes flicked to Damian, his jaw tightening imperceptibly. “Yes. Just wrapping up,” he said, his voice regaining its cold, professional edge.

Ines felt the tension in the room shift. Damian’s presence was like a shield, stopping Eric from slipping any further into personal conversation. She gave a polite nod, keeping her hands folded neatly on her lap, her heart pounding as a storm of unspoken words settled into silence.

Damian’s attention stayed on Eric, oblivious to the silent storm brewing between the two of them. Ines exhaled slowly, grateful that the conversation had been cut short. The small reprieve left her feeling both relieved and strangely hollow, as if the ghosts of the past were walking beside her, visible only to her eyes.

By the end of the session, Ines stood up, offering a polite nod. “Thank you for your time.”

Eric inclined his head, voice controlled. “You’re welcome.”

She walked out, heart racing, mind a whirlwind. The hallway seemed impossibly bright, the air sharp and real. Her calm façade had survived barely but the memory of his gaze, and the sudden intrusion of Damian, followed her like a shadow.

As she descended the staircase, she couldn’t help but wonder… would things ever be this complicated again.