[Narrated: 3rd limited, adjacent to Bells' perspective]
Now
Two months had passed. She thought she was fine. They'd picked a wedding venue, a Georgian manor that looked like something from a fairy tale. Started designing invitations. She wanted their picture on the front. A show of unity.
Yes, she'd called Jude again. A couple of times, maybe more. Once while out with friends, wine loosening her resolve like fingers prying open a locked box. Someone in the bar had his jawline, the same way of holding a glass, gave her heart a stutter like an engine trying to catch. Yet her call went to voicemail. Again. No surprise.
It stung. But it's for the best, she told herself.
He was moving on. And it was time she did too. There wasn't much to leave behind anyway. Three years of soft tension, flirtation, dancing on the edge of propriety, and that single, terrible awards night when everything had cracked open like an egg hitting pavement.
Then: 2.5 years ago
She remembered the first time she suspected Jude liked her. About six months into the job.
They'd started working a client together. Big account, bigger pressure. He'd suddenly want to meet for hours, sit across from her with those piercing blue eyes locked in.
Smile. Speak with authority - about the account, the sector, the market. A peacock displaying his finest feathers. Then he'd offer something small, vulnerable, blurring the boundary lines one smudge at a time. "God, these hours kill me…", "My apartment feels so empty when I get home…"
There had been electricity, crackling beneath their professional veneer. And she knew - God help her, she knew - he could feel it too.
He'd seek her out just to chat, seemingly about algorithms, data and clients but conversation meandering as if just to stay close. Stopping by her desk with coffee he'd bought but claimed he didn't want. Somehow made to her exact liking – a soya milk latte, one sugar - even though he only drank it black. His fingers would brush hers when he handed it over, a touch that sent electricity racing up her arms.
He'd speak up for her in meetings when senior execs and clients glanced at her with condescending smiles, then talked over her ideas. "Hold on there, Ms Hann was speaking," voice dropping half an octave when he said her name.
Then came the business dinners. Clients leaving by nine, but they'd linger until last call, talking about everything except the elephant taking up residence between them. She was a lightweight. Two glasses of wine and she'd start to sway, her usual composure melting like ice in summer heat. He'd steady her, walk her to cabs, hand finding the small of her back like it belonged there.
At the holiday party that year, she'd worn a dress ending over her knee, and when she'd dropped her lipstick, he'd gone down to retrieve it, his shoulder brushing her thigh, his face inches from her skin. When he'd straightened, something had passed between them. A look that lasted three heartbeats too long, charged as lightning before it strikes.
Then he found out about Theo. The shift was subtle at first, like a radio being tuned to a different frequency. Still pleasant, still professional, but the undercurrent disappeared. The coffee stops became less frequent. The lingering looks turned into careful glances away.
Then: a year ago
Then the awards night came. Business owners only. But she was Theo's plus-one, a trophy on his arm in a dress the colour of champagne.
Jude was there as the owner of Larssens. Fate had them seated at the same table. Opposite each other. She felt awkward as hell. Theo was unusually possessive that night, his hand never leaving some part of her body - her thigh, her shoulder, the nape of her neck. Like he sensed something. Like he was claiming her.
Jude was drinking. Heavily. Not like him. His usual careful nursing of one whiskey abandoned for aggressive refills, each glass disappearing faster than the last. He mostly avoided her gaze. Except once. Theo leaned in to whisper something dirty in her ear, nipping her earlobe like she was there to be consumed. She laughed despite herself and looked up.
Jude was watching. That old intensity blazing in his eyes like a blue flame. And something else she'd never seen before. A hunger wrapped in fury, something feral and possessive that made her feel like prey.
Then they called his name. Applause.
Larssens had won an award: "Fastest Growing Company."
Jude stood, unsteady for a moment, then composed himself with the kind of control that suggested years of practice hiding fire beneath ice. Then walked to the stage.
"Wow. Thank you. I honestly didn't expect this, so winging the speech, sorry."
A wave of soft laughter washed over the audience.
"We've grown a lot this past year. Onboarded 25 new clients, extended collaborations, hired ten new staff. It's all… exceeded expectations. But really, it started to take off two years ago."
Then his tone changed, playful but dark, biting.
"When I was lucky enough to have this person join. A phenomenal analyst. She rapidly advanced. On merit, of course." He added with a smirk.
"She's even here tonight. Isabelle Hann."
His eyes found hers across the room. Some followed his gaze like sharks turning toward kill. She smiled weakly, then shifted in her seat.
"We've spent obscene hours together." Jude continued, his voice keeping in the vicious register, though now made more intimate.
"Grinding over client data, locked in late-night strategy sessions, pushing and pulling through every angle till something gave. Sometimes into the early hours. She'd been truly indispensable."
The room stilled, a collective intake of breath. They could all sense it - the subtext flowing beneath his words. She felt exposed under the spotlight of attention, her cheeks burning like she'd been slapped. Theo's hand on her thigh went rigid.
Jude's lips twitched, his eyes narrowed, final words delivered near-whisper.
"So thank you, Bells. For every night. For every angle."
The applause that followed was weak, uncertain. Polite clapping from people who weren't sure what they'd just witnessed but knew it wasn't quite right. Her face felt like it was on fire. She wanted to disappear into the floor, melt into nothing.
"Interesting speech…", Theo whispered into her ear.
She watched Jude retreat toward the back doors and felt something snap inside her chest. She slipped away from the table, following him into the night air that bit at her bare arms like tiny teeth.
She caught up with him in the parking lot, clenching his fist over a set of car keys.
"Where do you think you're going?"
He turned, surprised to see her there, all fury and evening wear.
"You embarrassed me in there."
"Oh, really?" he tilted his head mockingly, "I thought it was fair game, with Theo practically fucking you at the table."
She froze. Never heard him like this, raw and vulgar, the mask of a polite businessman slipping.
"Excuse me? He was being affectionate. He's my boyfriend."
"Yeah? Guess he's had a good taste."
"Watch your mouth."
"Or what?"
"This is highly inappropriate. You have no right…"
"Don't act like you don't want it just as much as I do."
"Want what?" she asked but knew of course. Their minds, hearts and bodies entwined. And seeing him now, stripped bare of politeness, exposed, made her crave him even more. Her pulse quickened, and she found herself noticing the sharp line of his jaw, his lips, the way his breath came quick and shallow.
"You never said anything. Never acted on it." She'd held that against him so many times in her head.
"It's been obvious."
He wasn't wrong but he wasn't right either. His careful dance of tiny steps, two forward, one back, each with just enough plausible deniability to make her doubt the pull she'd felt.
"Obvious? More like confusing… Never clear enough to…."
He closed the distance between them in one step. She felt the heat radiating from his body, the scent of cologne mixed with whisky. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she realized she was leaning toward him, drawn like gravity she couldn't fight.
"Let me make it crystal."
He kissed her. The world became pure sensation. Warmth and want and two years of unspoken desire culminating into this single, perfect moment. She melted into him like she was coming home to herself, her body trembling under his touch.
Until...
"Well, well, well. So the rumours were true." Theo's voice cut through their moment like a blade.
She pulled away immediately, as if she'd stepped on burning coals.
"He kissed me." The words spilled out.
"You didn't stop it." Jude half-whispered, looking at Theo.
"What the hell was that speech, asshole?"
"Theo…" Bells moved toward him, placed her palm on his arm. But he stepped back.
"No. Say it. Either of you. What was this?"
"It was nothing. The speech. He made it up. Nothing ever happened between us. Not really." Bells offered, shifting her alliance suddenly to Theo, caught red-handed but defiant.
"I'm in love with you, Bells." Jude's confession hung between them like winter fog, "I've been in love with you... for years."
She looked at him softly, suddenly understanding the years of carefully hidden devotion. But then Theo's presence drew her back to earth.
"Let me get this straight. You've been in love with her for years... And you wait until she's with someone else to make your move?"
"She works under me. There are professional boundaries."
"Fine job of keeping these tonight, mate."
Jude had the grace to look abashed for a beat.
"So is this what you want, Bells? A coward who waits in the shadows…" Theo's voice cracked slightly. "Kissing you now because what? Jealousy?"
She could see Jude taking a step sideways, slightly unsteady on his feet. The alcohol hitting differently now, making him lose his edge.
"I was being respectful."
"Right. So respectful." Theo's laugh was bitter.
"Bells..." Jude's voice turned pleading. "You should give us a chance."
"Isabelle, I'm all in. See us take this all the way. One hundred percent. But if you want to throw it away for..." Theo gestured vaguely at Jude, dismissive, leaving the sentence hanging.
"How long have you two even known each other?" Jude asked, laughing.
"Long enough to know what we want. Foreign to you, innit."
"I know what I want but to promise some fantasy?"
"Better than romance dripped in cowardice."
They both looked at her. Something twisted in her gut. Torn between the safe harbour of Theo and the storm-battered seas that were Jude. "Promise some fantasy" lingered in her mind, landing like a strike to her abdomen.
"I'm sorry, Jude. I think you misunderstood… I love Theo."
But her eyes held his for one beat too long, speaking in a language only they understood. Jude's face flickered with something unreadable. Recognition, maybe, or devastation carefully hidden. He never quite let it go.
And then year later, Theo proposed, adding insult to injury.