Exiting the eting room they walked back to their office. Zyair halted in his steps and five feet back Skyla did the sa and lifted her head to watch her boss. He turned and seed like he wished to say sothing.
She gulped while he intently stared.
"That was such an excellent idea, Miss Skyla. Keep bringing such innovative ideas to the table," the tenderness in his voice took away so of her nervousness. She was slowly erging from the shell she had enclosed herself in because of her husband.
But his encouraging words hit her differently and her mind whirled to instances when Doran berated her, telling her she was dumb. His torturous words had always hit her worse than his physical blows. Tears welled up in her pristine mint-shaded eyes, they always reminded him of the rain-kissed forest. Zyair felt his heart crushing seeing them swim in salty water.
Why did she beco sad all of a sudden? His mind reeled.
"Excuse ," she awkwardly muffled and walked away with her head low so he wouldn’t be able to see the tears which were threatening to leak.
She rushed to her office and closed herself in. Sinking to the floor against her door she began to softly cry. Her legs hugged her chest as miffeld sobs escaped her
The incident of last night started to surface and then resurface in her mind.
The harsh words.
The blinding blows.
The looks of aversion.
If Zyair could sense her potential, why couldn’t her husband do the sa? The thought wrecked her insides like a hurricane does to a lonely boat in the middle of the ocean.
Unbeknownst to her Zyair had silently followed her and now he stood outside her closed door, hearing her stifled cries of pain.
His gloved hand rested on her closed door and his forehead followed. Tornted by her snivels, he didn’t know how to comfort her. Every sniffle from inside was like a tiny splinter jabbing slowly into his rapidly beating heart. He placed his other hand on the door too, in a futile effort to feel closer to her.
He didn’t even know what triggered it. He had been extra careful while talking to her and yet sohow he had ended up hurting the girl he wanted to protect at all costs.
The man in the mask stayed there, praying to whatever god or deity would listen that she would stop crying. She did after what felt like an eternity and he heard ruffling of her clothes, revealing to him she was getting up from the floor.
Zyair finally made an effort to move away from the door. His fleeting but silent steps took him away from her door to his office.
Useless, he deed himself utterly useless today. She was suffering and there was nothing he was able to do.
And then he made a rash decision. Being a patient man this was very unlike him. He knew he shouldn’t be calling Doran in that instant but he wanted to. Doran would be the target of his ire today. Anything to vent out the frustration that had built inside of him because he couldn’t help her.
Picking up the phone he dialled Doran’s number and waited for him to pick up. He did, after a few rings.
"Mr. Zyair," he greeted in a fake naval voice.
"Mr. Doran, I am calling to inform you that tomorrow we are holding an event as you have already received the invitation. So Mrs. Blackthorn will be working late. She will be attending the event as my employee and not your wife. I will be looking forward to your professionalism on the matter," Zyair’s voice ca out a tad harsher and he strategically used Mrs. Blackthorn.
"I did and don’t worry I will not be disturbing her during her work hours. I understand," the serpent spoke in a flattering tone which Zyair knew too well.
Closing his eyes Zyair snubbed the wrath that was brewing under his skin and slowly breathed out to keep his emotions in check.
"Good, I will see you tomorrow. Don’t forget to send over the KPIs. I want to check the progress of the company and see what improvents you have been making," Zyair on purpose gave him extra tasks and Doran cursed him in his mind but only said.
"Sure, I will do that as soon as possible."
"Tomorrow, I need them by tomorrow," Zyair inford him before ending the call. He clasped his hands and sat thinking.
Although he was very patient, Skyla’s cries were sothing he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle much longer. He had a long way to go with his plan but Skyla was his weak spot. Today she cried behind a closed door and it was unbearable for him. He dreaded the day she would cry in front of him. How would he hold himself back from comforting and hugging her?
A soft knock on his hard door interrupted his line of thoughts and he knew it was her. It was her off-ti, she must be about to head off.
"Co in." He composed himself as his door slowly slid open and Skyla hesitantly entered with a layer of fresh makeup on her face and her bag on her shoulder.
She didn’t co forward but stayed near the door, her eyes remaining glued on the floor. Ashad of her earlier behaviour she wasn’t sure how to face her boss.
He waited, letting her gather all the courage she needed and then she eventually spoke. Her eyes were still downcast.
"I am sorry for earlier, Sir. That was very unprofessional of . I wanted to apologise for my conduct before leaving for the day."
A profound silence followed her words as he anxiously stared at her.
"Miss Skyla, please look at ," his silvery voice had her lifting her head as she fell into those swirling sapphire orbs of his, hurling down to so unknown destination. The more she stared the more she was lost.
"Anyone can have a bad day. There is no need to apologise. But if you ever feel like talking, I am a good listener."
His words were like a balm on scorched skin and she just stupidly nodded at him.
"Thank you for understanding, I will take my leave for today. Good evening, Mr. Zyair," she slowly broke the hypnotic eye contact with him.
"Good evening, Miss Skyla." He watched her leave, his eyes lingered on the spot she had been standing before standing up.
Turning towards his huge window he waited for her to erge on the road below. Against all his wishes she was taking a cab again but he wanted to respect her wishes. So he silently watched as she got in and her cab disappeared in the distance. With hopes of seeing her again the next day, he deeply sighed and slumped back in his seat.
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