Again

Chapter 03

The cold, metallic light of the morning poured through the curtains as Wayne blinked blearily at his phone screen. His inbox had one unread message. Subject: Notice of Layoff.

Relief flooded his chest. He wasn't surprised—it had been in the air for weeks, the hushed whispers in break rooms, the sidelong glances from management. But now that the inevitable had arrived, it felt more like release than rejection. And yet, an ache lingered beneath the relief. Wayne wasn't just losing a job; he was losing the people who had become his safety net, the colleagues who laughed with him, supported him.

A sigh escaped his lips as the phone buzzed again. It was a call from the tech company he had scouted as a backup plan. He answered.

"Mr. Freeman? It's Ms. Ballinger. I'm calling to conduct your interview."

Her voice was low and raspy, steady. Wayne quickly brushed his hair back, as if she could see him, and sat straighter in his chair. The conversation was brief and formal. Ms. Ballinger seemed impressed—too impressed, almost, like she had already made up her mind before the call even started.

"You'll receive an email about the results shortly," she said.

Wayne thanked her, but before he could end the call, she added in a softer tone, "Honestly, Mr. Freeman, you're hired. It's just a formality. I'll see you tomorrow at orientation."

The call ended, leaving him with a strange, hollow sense of accomplishment. It was good news, but it didn't feel like a victory. He got up, pacing the small apartment. Eventually, he dialed Rhea's number, eager to share the news and maybe feel a bit of excitement through her.

"You deserve this, Wayne! You've worked so hard," she cheered on the other end. But even her joy couldn't lift the weight from his chest.

The next morning, he dressed carefully—new tie, polished shoes—ready to take on his first day at the new company. He forced a smile as he looked at himself in the mirror. It's a fresh start, he told himself. Nothing's going to destroy this day.

But life had other plans.

The building was sleek, modern, all glass and steel, a far cry from the tired, beige walls of his former workplace. Wayne had just finished orientation, his nerves steadying after meeting his new colleagues. For the first time in days, the tension in his shoulders began to ease. He was delivering some documents to the head office when he stepped into the elevator, the hum of it soothing in its predictability.

Just as the doors began to close, a hand shot between them, forcing them open.

"Wait!"

Wayne's heart froze. The man stepping into the elevator was unmistakable. Ashe.

Ashe—the person Wayne thought he had left behind years ago. The person responsible for the darkest chapter of his life. His heart began to race, faster than the machinery could move. He jammed the "close door" button repeatedly, but it was futile. Ashe's hand had already stopped the elevator's retreat, and now he was inside, standing just feet away from Wayne.

The air in the elevator felt thick, as if the walls were pressing in, the metallic tang of fear lingering in Wayne's throat. Every creak of the machinery felt like a countdown.

"Wayne," Ashe said, slightly breathless from his sprint to catch the elevator. A weak, awkward smile tugged at his lips. "I didn't know you worked here."

Wayne's pulse pounded in his ears. He couldn't answer. Couldn't even move. The last thing he wanted was to be trapped in a small, confined space with the man who had hurt him so deeply. His hands tightened into fists as the memories rushed back—the mockery, the pain, the betrayal.