159

159
Matteo’s POV
There comes a point when you realize you’ve done all you can.
That was the thought rattling around in my head as I watched Gianna from across the conference room. She was presenting a summary of the latest numbers to the client, her voice steady, her confidence unmistakable.
She was brilliant.
She was also driving me insane.
For weeks now, I’d been patient. Careful. I’d pulled back when she seemed overwhelmed, pushed gently when she seemed open, and kept myself in check when all I wanted to do was shake some sense into her.
But tonight, I’d had enough. I needed to talk to her. I needed to know one last time if this was ever going to work or if I was chasing after something impossible.
I found myself marching to her office. Everyone else had left by seven, leaving the floor quiet. She and I were the only ones remaining here, except for the security who made their rounds every now and then.
Gianna was in her office, her desk lamp casting a warm glow over her as she pored over a stack of reports. She was frowning, a pen tucked behind her ear, oblivious to the rest of the world.
I knocked on the open door, and she glanced up, startled.
“Matteo,” she said, sitting back. “I thought you’d left.”
“Clearly, so did everyone else,” I said, stepping inside. “You’ve been at this all day. Take a break.”
She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “I’ll take a break when this is done.”
“Or,” I countered, “you’ll keep going until you burn yourself out. Which, knowing you, is the more likely scenario.”
Her lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile. “What do you want, Matteo?”
Honesty seemed like the best approach. “To talk.”
She stiffened, her guard snapping back into place. “About what?”
“About us.”
“There is no ‘us,'” she said, her tone sharp.
I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. “You keep saying that, but your actions tell a different story.”
Gianna’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” I said evenly, “that you care more than you want to admit. You notice when I’m around. You notice when I’m not. You can’t look me in the eye without that little flicker of something crossing your face.”
Her jaw tightened, and I could see the battle playing out in her mind. She wanted to deny it, to brush me off with some cutting remark, but she didn’t.
Instead, she stood, walking around her desk to face me. “You think you have me all figured out, don’t you?”
“I think you’re scared,” I said, refusing to back down. “And I think you’re using that fear as an excuse to keep me at arm’s length.”
Her laugh was bitter, her eyes flashing. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”
“I know enough.”
“Do you?” she challenged, stepping closer. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve built this idea of me in your head-some version of me that fits what you want. But that’s not real.”
I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to stay calm. “I’m not asking for perfect, Gianna. I’m not asking for anything you’re not ready to give. But you don’t have to keep running.”
Her gaze faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered, shaking her head. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to do this. You don’t get it, Matteo. You can’t just… fix me.”
“I’m not trying to fix you,” I said softly. “I’m just trying to understand you.”
For a moment, I thought she might let me in. Her shoulders sagged slightly, her expression softening just enough to give me hope.
But then she straightened, crossing her arms over her chest. “I can’t do this.”
“Gianna-”
“No,” she interrupted, her voice firm. “This… whatever this is between us… it’s not going to work. I’ve told you that from the beginning.”
I studied her, searching for any sign that she didn’t mean it. But her walls were back up, higher and stronger than ever.
“Okay,” I said finally, the word heavy on my tongue.
She blinked, clearly not expecting me to concede so easily.
“Okay?” she repeated.
I nodded. “If that’s what you want, then fine. I won’t push anymore.”
Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something, but no words came.
“Just one thing,” I added, my voice steady. “If you ever decide to stop fighting yourself, you know where to find me.”
And with that, I turned and walked away, leaving her standing there in the glow of her desk lamp.
The drive home was quiet, the city lights blurring past as I replayed the conversation in my head. I knew I’d done the right thing-she needed space, and I needed to respect that-but it didn’t make it any easier.
I’d never been one to give up easily. But this wasn’t about giving up; it was about letting go.
And if Gianna wasn’t ready to meet me halfway, then I had no choice but to wait.
The question was, how long could I wait before the cracks started to show?
I sighed, shaking my head as if I could shake thoughts about her out of it too. It didn’t work.
*The next day*
I was keeping my distance, just as she had requested for.
It wasn’t easy, especially when I caught glimpses of her throughout the day-her brow furrowed in concentration, her fingers flying across the keyboard, the way she chewed on the end of her pen when she was deep in thought.
But I stayed focused, throwing myself into work and avoiding any unnecessary interactions.
It wasn’t until later, during a team meeting, that I noticed the change.
Gianna was quieter than usual, her responses clipped, her gaze distant. She barely looked at me, and when she did, her expression was carefully blank.
If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought she was completely unaffected by our conversation.
But I did know better.
She felt it, too-everything we said yesterday and this growing distance between us.
The only question was, how long would it take for her to admit it? That she loved me too?
By the time the workday ended, I was exhausted.
I packed up my things and headed for the elevator, only to hear a familiar voice behind me.
“Matteo, wait.”
I turned, surprised to see Gianna standing there, her expression hesitant.
“Can we talk?” she asked, her voice quieter than usual.
“Of course,” I said, stepping back to let her onto the elevator with me.
The doors closed, and we stood in silence as the elevator descended.
“I…” She hesitated, glancing at me before looking away. “I just wanted to say thank you.”
“For what?”
“For backing off,” she said, her tone uncertain. “I know it wasn’t easy for you.”
“It wasn’t,” I admitted.
She nodded, her gaze fixed on the floor. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Matteo. I don’t know how to handle… this.”
“You don’t have to figure it out all at once,” I said gently. “But you have to let yourself feel something, Gianna. Otherwise, you’ll just keep running in circles.”
She didn’t respond, but the look in her eyes told me she was listening.
The elevator doors opened, and we stepped out into the lobby.
“Goodnight, Gianna,” I said, giving her a small smile before heading for the door.
“Goodnight, Matteo,” she replied, her voice barely audible.
It wasn’t much, but it was a start.