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“Angela.” I breathed out.
No matter how often I saw her, she would always be breathtaking to me regardless of what she wore.
Maybe it was a biased opinion, as I was already aware of the feelings I had for her.
“Dante.” She cleared her throat.
I couldn't help but be amused by Angela's attempt to appear unaffected by my presence.
Years of training had honed my ability to read people, and it was clear as day that she felt the same way about me as I did about her.
Yet, for some reason, she seemed to be fighting against her own emotions.
I couldn't understand why she was holding back.
It wasn't as if I had hidden my feelings for her - they were obvious to anyone paying attention.
Perhaps she was trying to protect herself, afraid to give in to the intensity of what we both felt.
Regardless of her motives, I couldn't deny the pull I felt toward her.
Every time I saw her, my heart skipped a beat, and my pulse quickened.
I wanted nothing more than to be near her, to feel her warmth and comfort.
As I watched her, I couldn't help but wonder what was going through her mind.
Was she as conflicted as I was?
Or was she simply trying to maintain a sense of professionalism in our shared workplace?
One thing was for certain: I wasn't going to give up on her.
I would do whatever it took to win her heart and show her how much she meant to me.
"It's good to see you're still here," I said casually as I leaned against the wall, my eyes locked on her face.
Memories of our last encounter three years ago flooded my mind, and I couldn't help but wonder if this conversation would end differently.
“Dante, th…,”
Before she could finish her sentence, I interrupted her.
"I know this is a conversation we were bound to have ever since I recognized you at my hospital," I stated firmly, not wanting to waste any time beating around the bush.
Her expression shifted from panic to resignation, and I could tell that she had anticipated this moment as much as I had.
We both knew that our past had caught up to us and that it was time to face the consequences of our actions.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the difficult conversation that lay ahead.
Whatever the outcome, I was determined to face it head-on and not run away like I had in the past.
"Let's talk," I said, gesturing for her to follow me to the living room.
It was time to finally confront the past and move forward, whatever that might mean for us both.
We sat down on the couch, and I couldn't help but notice the tension in her body.
