I stared at Gabriel.
For six years, I had answered every question he asked.
Where was the contract?
Who had confirmed the meeting?
Why was the flight delayed?
Which investor had changed his mind?
There was always an answer.
But this time, I couldn’t give him one.
“Does it matter?” I finally asked.
Gabriel’s expression hardened.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
That tiny hesitation gave me enough courage to continue.
“You’re getting engaged, Mr. Gu.”
“I said no such thing.”
“You didn’t deny it last night.”
His jaw tightened.
“Tomás announced it in front of everyone.”
“And you congratulated me.”
“What was I supposed to do?”
“Ask me.”
I froze.
Gabriel took another step closer.
“You’ve worked beside me for six years. You know exactly how I handle contracts, acquisitions, even dinner reservations.”
His voice dropped.
“Did you really think I would decide to marry someone without making the decision myself?”
“But your families—”
“My father and President Shen discussed it.”
“So the engagement isn’t happening?”
“No.”
One word.
Four years of pain suddenly had nowhere to go.
I gripped the edge of the desk.
Gabriel noticed.
“Sit down.”
“I’m fine.”
“Elena.”
“I said I’m fine.”
For once, he obeyed me.
He stepped back.
Then his eyes fell on my resignation.
“Now answer my question.”
I knew I couldn’t lie again.
So I chose the closest thing to the truth.
“I need a life outside this company.”
“I offered you leave.”
“I don’t need leave.”
“What do you need?”
“To stop waiting.”
His eyes narrowed.
“For what?”
I smiled.
It probably looked terrible.
“For something that was never going to happen.”
Silence.
Gabriel was intelligent.
Far too intelligent.
I watched the realization slowly appear in his eyes.
“Elena.”
I turned toward the door.
He caught my wrist.
Not hard.
Just enough to stop me.
“Is this about me?”
My eyes burned.
I pulled my hand away.
“Please don’t ask.”
That was my answer.
Gabriel went completely still.
I opened the door.
“Elena.”
I stopped.
“How long?”
I closed my eyes.
There was no dignity left to protect.
“Four years.”
Then I walked out.
I expected him to follow.
He didn’t.
That hurt.
But perhaps it was better.
At noon, Mateo entered the secretary’s office looking as though he’d witnessed a natural disaster.
“Miss Jiang.”
“What happened?”
“The director canceled everything.”
“What?”
“Everything.”
Three meetings.
A lunch with investors.
An afternoon conference.
Even dinner with his father.
Gabriel Gu did not cancel meetings.
Not when he had influenza.
Not when he’d dislocated his shoulder skiing.
Not even when his grandmother died.
Yet that afternoon, his office remained closed.
I forced myself not to care.
At five, I finished another transition folder.
At six, Tomás appeared.
He pulled a chair beside my desk.
“You’re resigning because of Gabriel.”
“I don’t discuss my private life at work.”
“Excellent. You resign tomorrow, so technically this conversation has a very short expiration date.”
I ignored him.
Tomás lowered his voice.
“Do you know why Gabriel never dates?”
“Because he works eighteen hours a day?”
“No.”
I stopped typing.
“Because he’s an idiot.”
I looked at him.
“That explanation I believe.”
Tomás laughed.
Then his expression became serious.
“The Shen engagement was arranged between the parents. Gabriel rejected it two weeks ago.”
My fingers tightened.
“Two weeks?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you announce it?”
“Because I thought he’d finally accepted.”
“You thought?”
“His father told me negotiations were progressing.”
I stared at him.
Tomás rubbed his forehead.
“I made a mistake.”
“A rather impressive one.”
“Yes.”
He leaned closer.
“But there’s something else.”
I didn’t want something else.
I wanted to finish my folders, go home, sleep for twelve hours and wake up without loving Gabriel Gu.
Tomás continued anyway.
“Four years ago, Gabriel asked me whether an employer dating his secretary would automatically create a power imbalance.”
My heart stopped.
I looked at him.
“What?”
“He asked very theoretically.”
I couldn’t speak.
“And then,” Tomás continued, “he asked whether the secretary could ever know if she genuinely liked the employer or simply felt attached because her entire career depended on him.”
I stood abruptly.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because both of you have apparently spent four years protecting each other from a relationship neither of you bothered to discuss.”
A voice came from behind him.
“Tomás.”
We turned.
Gabriel stood there.
Tomás smiled.
“I believe that’s my cue to leave.”
He disappeared.
Gabriel looked at me.
I looked at Gabriel.
Neither of us spoke.
Finally, I said:
“Four years ago?”
He closed his eyes briefly.
“Yes.”
I almost wanted to throw the transition manual at him.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“You suspected?”
“I hoped.”
“That’s worse.”
“I know.”
I laughed once, without humor.
“You could negotiate billion-dollar acquisitions, but you couldn’t ask your secretary whether she liked you?”
“You were twenty-six. I was your direct superior. Your promotion depended on my evaluation.”
“So?”
“So if I told you I wanted you, how could I know whether you felt free to reject me?”
That stopped me.
Gabriel continued.
“You built your career here. I wasn’t going to make you wonder whether refusing me would destroy it.”
For the first time, I understood his silence differently.
Not indifference.
Restraint.
Perhaps too much restraint.
But restraint nonetheless.
He placed my resignation on the desk.
“I approved this yesterday because you said you were getting married.”
“I lied.”
“I know.”
“Are you angry?”
“Yes.”
“Because I lied?”
“Because I spent last night believing another man was going to marry you.”
Something inside my chest trembled.
Gabriel looked almost annoyed when he added:
“And apparently there is no Daniel Shen.”
“No.”
“Good.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
His expression softened.
It was the first time I had seen Gabriel look at me without the invisible wall between director and secretary.
Then he said:
“I won’t withdraw your resignation.”
The warmth vanished.
“Oh.”
“You were right about one thing.”
He looked around the office.
“You need a life that doesn’t revolve around me.”
I swallowed.
“So that’s it?”
“No.”
Gabriel stepped closer.
“You will complete your resignation.”
I stared at him.
“You will leave the company. Take a month. Two months. Six if you want.”
“And then?”
“Then, when your salary no longer comes from me and your career no longer depends on my decisions…”
He paused.
“I’ll ask you something.”
My heartbeat became painfully loud.
“What?”
His eyes stayed on mine.
“Whether you’ll have dinner with me.”
I smiled despite myself.
“Dinner?”
“Dinner.”
“That’s all?”
“For the first evening.”
“Gabriel Gu.”
His mouth finally curved.
“Elena Jiang.”
And for the first time in four years, neither of us hid.
I left the company three weeks later.
Gabriel didn’t interfere.
He didn’t offer me a better salary.
He didn’t invent a new position.
He let me leave.
I traveled.
I slept without keeping my phone beside my pillow.
I visited my parents.
I discovered that Tuesday afternoons existed when nobody needed a meeting moved.
And slowly, I remembered who Elena Jiang was when she wasn’t Gabriel Gu’s secretary.
Two months later, someone rang my apartment doorbell.
Gabriel stood outside.
No assistant.
No driver waiting downstairs with documents.
No suit jacket.
He held flowers in one hand.
In the other was a restaurant reservation.
“You waited two months?” I asked.
“You said you needed a life.”
“And if I’d met someone?”
His expression darkened.
“I considered that possibility every day.”
I laughed.
Then I stepped aside.
He didn’t enter.
Instead, he asked:
“Are you still my employee?”
“No.”
“Do I control your salary?”
“No.”
“Your promotion?”
“No.”
“Your career?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“Good.”
Then Gabriel Gu—the man who had once approved my resignation because he thought I belonged to someone else—looked nervous for the first time since I’d known him.
“Elena Jiang, would you have dinner with me?”
This time, I didn’t call him Mr. Gu.
I didn’t lower my head.
And I didn’t hide behind another man’s name.
“Yes, Gabriel.”
Four years earlier, I had fallen in love with my boss.
But that night, I didn’t walk out with my boss.
I walked out with a man who had finally waited until I was completely free to choose him.
And this time, I did.
