Cracks Beneath the Surface

Susan

The air in the office had become suffocating, thick with tension I couldn’t shake off. Every time I glanced up from my desk, I felt Elliot’s eyes on me, watching, scrutinizing, like he was waiting for me to slip up. It was like walking a tightrope, trying to balance my work with Manuel while keeping Elliot from spiraling into another jealous fit.

But the worst part? I understood where Elliot was coming from.

Because even I wasn’t sure what the hell was going on with Manuel Fernandez.

We had our first one-on-one session scheduled for the afternoon. I tried to convince myself it was just business—nothing more, nothing less. But the moment Manuel walked into the room, I felt that familiar pull, the nagging memory I’d tried to bury.

“Susan,” he greeted me with that smooth, accented voice, his dark eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t quite place. “It’s good to see you again.”

I forced a polite smile. “You too, Mr. Fernandez.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Still formal, I see. But you didn’t call me that the night you saved my life.”

I froze.

The memory hit me like a freight train—the rooftop, the cold wind whipping around us, his foot teetering on the edge of the building. I’d grabbed his arm without thinking, my heart pounding in my chest as I pleaded with a stranger not to jump.

I never asked for his name. I didn’t want to know.

But now, here he was. Manuel Fernandez, the artist the world revered… and the man whose life I’d unknowingly altered.

“How… how did you know it was me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softened, and he took a step closer. “I never forgot your face.”

A chill ran down my spine. It wasn’t a threat, but there was something unsettling about the way he said it, like he’d been waiting for this moment for years.

Before I could respond, the door to the conference room burst open, of course it was Elliot that strode in, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes burning with suspicion.

“What’s going on here?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Manuel raised an eyebrow, unfazed by Elliot’s sudden appearance. “Just discussing art,” he replied smoothly, his gaze never leaving mine.

I stepped back, putting some distance between us. “It’s nothing, Elliot. We’re just—”

But Elliot wasn’t listening. His eyes were locked on Manuel like he was ready to pounce.

“I don’t like the way you look at her,” Elliot growled, his fists clenching at his sides.

Manuel smirked, a slow, deliberate curve of his lips. “And I don’t like the way you own her.”

The room fell into a tense silence. I could feel the heat radiating off Elliot, his fury simmering just beneath the surface. But I couldn’t let this escalate. Not here. Not now.

“Enough!” I snapped, stepping between them. "Both of you."

Elliot's eyes flickered to mine, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. Manuel, on the other hand, looked amused, like he was enjoying every second of this twisted tension.

"This is business," I continued, my voice firm. "Nothing more. Manuel and I have work to do, and Elliot—" I turned to him, softening my tone slightly, "you need to trust me."

Elliot’s jaw tightened, but after a long pause, he gave a curt nod. "Fine," he muttered, shooting Manuel one last glare before storming out of the room.

The door slammed behind him, leaving me alone with Manuel, whose smirk hadn’t wavered.

"Your boyfriend has quite the temper," Manuel mused, leaning casually against the table.

I exhaled sharply, trying to steady my nerves. "He's protective, that's all."

"Protective or possessive?" he countered, his eyes dark and unreadable. "There's a difference."

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Because deep down, I wasn’t sure I knew the answer.

Manuel straightened, closing the distance between us with slow, deliberate steps. His presence was overwhelming, his charisma almost suffocating.

"You saved me once, Susan," he whispered, his voice a low, intimate murmur. "But who’s going to save you?"

The words hung in the air long after he left, leaving me standing there, heart racing, mind spinning.

I had no idea what kind of storm I was caught in, but one thing was clear: this wasn’t just business anymore. And Elliot’s jealousy? It might’ve been the least of my problems.

That evening, as I sat in my apartment staring at the ceiling, Elliot's face flashed in my mind. The vulnerability behind his anger. The way he looked at me like I was his entire world. And now, Manuel—someone from my past I never thought I'd see again—was threatening to unravel everything.

I didn’t know where this was going, but the ground beneath me was shifting. Fast.