No strings attached |(UNDER REVISION)

Chapter 3- Still in love

"Bullshit."

"Is it?" She cocked her head, clearly enjoying this too much. "If she really doesn't matter anymore, then prove it. Hire her."

I exhaled sharply, gripping the arms of my chair. "You don't get it, Stacey."

"Oh, I do." She grinned. "I get it more than you do. You're torn between kicking her out of your life for good or seeing what the hell she wants. And knowing you? That curiosity is eating you alive."

I hated that she was right.

I hated that somewhere, deep down, a part of me wanted to know.

Why was Mikha here?
Why now?
What was she thinking when she submitted this application?

I closed my eyes for a moment before letting out a long breath. "You're an annoying little shit."

Stacey beamed. "And yet, I always give the best advice."

I tapped my fingers against my desk, my mind racing. Logically, professionally, hiring Mikha made sense. She was objectively the best candidate.

Emotionally? She was a goddamn wildfire.

Was I really willing to let her back in-even just professionally?

Stacey stood up, stretching. "Think about it, Aiah. But knowing you?" She grinned. "I already know what you're gonna do."

She winked and strolled toward the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I looked down at the file again.

Mikha Dela Cruz.

My past.

And maybe... my biggest mistake.

I stared at Mikha's name for what felt like forever. My fingers drummed against my desk, Stacey's words looping in my head like a broken record.

"If naka-move on ka na talaga, you wouldn't hesitate to accept her."

"If she were just any other applicant, you'd give her a shot."

I exhaled sharply and closed the folder. Damn it.

Was I really considering this?

I pushed my chair back and stood up, walking towards the floor-to-ceiling window of my office. The skyline of Metro Manila stretched before me, a reminder of how far I'd come-of how much I had built on my own.

I wasn't the same girl from UP Diliman.

I wasn't the girl who fell in love so recklessly.

I had power now. Control. I dictated the rules.

And maybe, just maybe-I could use that to my advantage.

Mikha wanted this job? Fine.

But if she thought she could waltz back into my life without consequences, she was dead wrong.

I smirked to myself and pressed the intercom. "Maloi, set up an interview with Mikha Dela Cruz."

A brief pause, then Maloi's voice crackled through the speaker. "Noted, boss. Any specific schedule?"

"Make it tomorrow morning."

If Mikha wanted to play this game, then let's see how well she could keep up.