Chapter 3: The Cost of Being Someone’s Secret

Seeing that I took it all in stride, Alicia looked a little surprised, lingering by my desk longer than expected. Her shadow fell across my workspace, blocking the light.

I looked up at her, puzzled.

"Is there something else, Ms. Davids?"

She fixed me with a cold, appraising gaze, her eyes scanning me from above.

"Benjamin, don't you have anything to explain?"

I blinked, confused, thinking for a moment.

"I was late. That's a fact. You were following company regulations, which is fair. I don't think I owe any further explanation. I don't have excuses or reasons to give."

Seeing my honesty, Alicia fell silent, scowled, and walked away.

Not long after, I settled into my work. Time flew by unnoticed. When I finally finished, I took off my headphones and looked up—realizing that I was the only one left in the entire office.

Glancing at the clock, it was already 11:30 PM. I cursed under my breath at my coworkers, who didn't even say goodbye before leaving.

Then the sharp click of high heels echoed behind me. Alicia tossed aside her takeout box, came over, and casually sat in the chair next to mine.

"Why didn't you reply to my messages?"

I pulled up my laptop and switched out of my program, realizing she had sent me messages after all.

"Can you help me check which CPU, motherboard, and graphics card are better? I want something that can handle AAA games."

"And how should I set up the case lighting? Is water cooling better, or air cooling?"

She knew I knew this stuff—in a way, it was my area of expertise. After all, it was my livelihood.

A year ago, I had mentioned to her that I wanted a new CPU. Not because I expected a gift, but because her attention toward me had been so unpredictable. I wanted a subtle way to prove my place in her life.

At the time, she had snapped impatiently, "You've been out of college for two years! Stop thinking about games all day. Focus on working hard!"

I had carefully explained the difference between CPUs and graphics cards—gaming relied more on the GPU, but for my work, CPU priority came first. She hadn't listened.

Now, I made a clear list of the components and sent it to her. She was thrilled. After ordering, she grabbed me to leave the office together.

On the way home, I sat in the back seat, still running programs on my laptop. I scrolled through social media and saw Chuck's latest post: a perfect nine-grid layout, captioned: [Just casually mentioned it, but I feel the happiness of being loved.]

When I opened the photo, it turned out to be Alicia's newly ordered gaming setup—the whole shebang.

I gave it a like and casually commented: [Wishing you happiness.]

Moments later, Alicia received a message from Chuck. The car braked sharply, pulling over to the side. She turned, glaring at me.

"It's just a gaming set! Why are you being passive-aggressive on his social feed? I'll buy you anything you want when we get home. Everything. Happy now?"

I wasn't amused and didn't even lift my head. Her sudden brake had hit my laptop, interrupting a program I was about to finish testing. I'd have to rerun it and wait all over again.

I had no interest in arguing. Sighing, I started the test again, speaking carefully as I worked.