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Echoes of the Past
Monday morning. I was in the elevator, ranting into my phone about the new boss who'd just parachuted into our department. I didn't hold back—I tore him apart.
Then a low chuckle came from behind me. "Ava, looks like you've grown a spine since I last saw you."
I whirled around and locked eyes with a pair I hadn't seen in years but knew better than my own.
My ex-boyfriend had just become my direct supervisor.
1.
My entire body went rigid. The phone nearly slipped from my fingers.
Lily was still going "Hello? Hello?" on the other end, but I couldn't force out a single word.
The elevator's bright lights cast sharp shadows across the man's features.
He stood there with perfect posture, wearing an expensive charcoal trench coat. The boyish softness had vanished from his face, replaced by the composed intensity of a man who'd seen the world.
A hint of amusement played at the corner of his mouth as he watched me, unblinking.
My mouth opened and closed. My throat had gone dry. On pure instinct, I choked out, "E-Ethan?"
Ethan didn't respond immediately. Those deep-set eyes swept across my face, taking in my disheveled hair from rushing and my makeup-free face. His smile deepened, though it never reached his eyes.
"Seems like I made this 'surprise' a bit too grand."
Reality crashed down on me. I understood exactly what he meant—
Ethan Zhou was the new boss I'd just been trashing.
Oh God.
What kind of twisted fate was this?
I'd imagined countless scenarios of running into my ex, but none of them looked like this disaster—
Me with my exhausted, bare face after an all-nighter. Wearing a wrinkled windbreaker. Dragging an oversized suitcase like some kind of refugee.
And worst of all, mere seconds ago, I'd been gleefully roasting him to his face.
I wanted to die from embarrassment.
2.
Thank God the elevator moved fast. The doors dinged open at our floor.
Relief flooded through me. I stepped aside reflexively, forcing out a professional smile that probably looked more like a grimace. "Mr. Zhou, after you."
Something flickered in Ethan's eyes—surprise, maybe.
He gave a small nod and strode out of the elevator, his long legs eating up the distance.
I ducked my head and hurried after him, my heavy suitcase wheels squeaking obnoxiously.
Without warning, Ethan stopped dead in his tracks.
Wham.
Unable to brake in time, I crashed face-first into his broad back.
Pain shot through my nose, sharp enough to bring tears to my eyes.
Ethan let out a low grunt and turned around.
His expression had darkened. When he spoke, I could hear him gritting his teeth. "Ava, running into you never ends well."
I clutched my nose, about to snap back at him.
But he didn't give me the chance. His next words hit exactly where it hurt. "Weren't you in a rush to clock in? Keep dawdling and you can kiss that perfect attendance bonus goodbye."
Oh crap.
Clock in!
My bonus!
My short-circuited brain finally rebooted.
Forget ex-boyfriends. Forget parachuting bosses. When it came to cold hard cash, everything else took a back seat.
I didn't spare another thought for my throbbing nose or the awkwardness. I maneuvered around him with my suitcase and bolted toward the reception desk like I was running the hundred-meter dash.
Behind me, I thought I heard Ethan snort softly.
Beep—LATE!
The time clock displayed "9:01 AM" in merciless red letters.
One minute. Three hundred dollars, gone.
I wanted to cry.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ethan strolling leisurely through the company entrance, completely at ease.
Damn capitalists.
When would I ever escape the tyranny of time clocks?
3.
At the morning meeting, the CEO personally attended to introduce Ethan to our department.
The fanfare said it all—this guy had serious connections.
Maybe my resentful stare was too obvious.
When Ethan gave his introduction, his gaze swept past me and he paused, almost imperceptibly.
I straightened my spine instinctively and... opened my eyes even wider in defiance.
Ethan looked away quickly.
I had to admit, personal grudges aside, his presence commanded the room.
After the meeting ended, I sidled up to Lily at the neighboring desk and lowered my voice, looking for an ally.
"Did you see that entrance? So much pomp and circumstance. This morning I was saying 'new brooms sweep clean'—who knows who's going to get burned first."
To my shock, Lily propped her chin in her hands with a dreamy expression.
"Oh, Ava, you're way too pessimistic! Being gorgeous is basically a free pass, you know? And did you hear the way Mr. Zhou spoke? That logic, that presence!"
Me: "..."
Traitor!
Won over by a pretty face already!
Another female colleague joined the fan club. "Right? That coat, that build, that voice... He's like walking testosterone. I'm actually motivated to work overtime now!"
I could only lament the injustice of it all. Good looks really did rule the world.
4.
At lunch in the cafeteria, I stabbed viciously at my rice.
My eyes kept drifting toward the private dining room where Ethan was having lunch with the company executives.
He moved with elegant grace, laughing and chatting effortlessly.
Then I looked at my colleagues beside me—normally they inhaled their food like starving wolves, but today they were all chewing delicately, sneaking glances at the private room.
Sure enough, being hot meant you could be someone's whole meal while also ruining everyone else's appetite.
That afternoon, our department became unnaturally "busy."
People from other departments found every excuse imaginable to drop by—delivering documents, asking for approvals, even just "passing through" to get water. The traffic was endless.
Our peaceful office had turned into a tourist attraction.
The constant parade of people made me dizzy and inexplicably irritated. I stood up and yanked the hallway blinds shut with one sharp motion.
Inside the office, Ethan sat in his glass-walled space, head bent over documents with intense focus.
I stared at him and couldn't help muttering under my breath, "Attention-seeking peacock..."
The instant the words left my mouth, Ethan looked up without warning. His eyes cut through the glass and caught mine with laser precision.
My heart skipped a beat.
No way. Was the soundproofing that bad?
Or did he have eyes in the back of his head?
I plastered on an awkward smile and quickly sat back down at my desk, pretending to work while my mind raced.
Why did Ethan seem to have it out for me?
How else could I explain getting caught red-handed every single time I did something "bad"?
5.
Eight PM. Finally, quitting time.
When the elevator doors opened, I walked in with my head down, debating whether to have instant noodles or splurge on cheap takeout.
Just as the doors were closing, a hand with prominent knuckles shot through the gap and blocked the sensor.
The doors slid back open.
My stomach dropped with a sense of foreboding.
I looked up. Of course—
Ethan's expressionless, handsome face appeared in the doorway.
Me: @##$%%&
Just my luck.
Ethan stepped inside. The elevator suddenly felt cramped with him in it.
Internally screaming, I forced myself to maintain basic politeness with a strained smile. "Mr. Zhou, what a coincidence. Just getting off work too?"
Ethan made a noncommittal sound of acknowledgment.
Awkward silence filled the small space.
The silence made me want to crawl out of my skin. I just wanted to escape.
As the elevator began descending, I had a flash of inspiration and slapped my forehead like I'd just remembered something.
"Oh! How silly of me. Mr. Zhou, I'm sorry—I think I left an important file on my desk. I need to go back and get it. You go ahead."
Without waiting for his reaction, I practically fled from the elevator with my suitcase.
The doors closed behind me.
I walked a few steps toward the office for show, counting down in my head.
Once I figured Ethan must have reached the ground floor, I breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to press the down button.
However.
When the elevator doors opened again, my smile froze completely—
Ethan was still inside!
He stood there with one hand in his coat pocket, looking thoroughly entertained.
I forced myself to play it off, scrambling for an excuse.
"Mr. Zhou, did you... forget something too?"
Ethan's eyes moved from his watch to my flushed face. A knowing smile tugged at his lips.
Even an idiot could tell my little trick hadn't fooled him at all.
He'd never gone down to the first floor—or rather, he'd known I'd come back.
6.
The elevator continued descending. This time the atmosphere felt even heavier than before.
The floor numbers ticked down one by one. Every second felt like torture.
Suddenly, Ethan shifted closer, closing the distance between us.
He looked directly into my eyes. His gaze was dark and complex, swirling with emotions I couldn't read. His voice dropped low. "Ava, are you avoiding me?"
My grip tightened involuntarily on the suitcase handle until my knuckles turned white. My heart pounded against my ribcage.
I was about to deflect with my usual jokes and evasions.
But before I could speak, Ethan seemed to lose all patience in an instant. He stepped back abruptly, putting distance between us.
That moment of vulnerability felt like a hallucination.
His expression returned to its usual detachment, even taking on a hint of mocking distance. "You don't need to worry. I don't mix business with personal matters."
After saying this, he looked me up and down, his gaze finally settling on my oversized suitcase. Something flickered in his eyes.
But it was too fast. I couldn't catch it.
He gave a cold snort and looked away. The elevator reached the ground floor just then. He strode out first, leaving me with a view of his departing back.
Early winter evening. The wind cut like knives.
Standing outside the company entrance, I shivered as the cold wind hit me.
I quickly pulled out my phone to call a car. The app showed "25 people ahead of you in queue," which made my heart sink even further.
I pulled my thin jacket tighter and looked enviously at the brightly lit building behind me.
Other people knew to wait for their rides inside where it was warm. Why was I such an idiot?
Just as I was stomping my feet against the cold, a taxi miraculously pulled up right in front of me.
The driver rolled down the window and waved cheerfully.
I wrestled my suitcase into the trunk and dove into the warm interior.
After giving my address, I leaned back comfortably in the seat, closed my eyes, and felt exhaustion and drowsiness wash over me.
I didn't notice the low-key luxury of a black Rolls-Royce Phantom across the street, its headlights flashing twice, almost imperceptibly.
The man in the back seat watched through the window in silence as my taxi merged into traffic and disappeared from view.
7.
The next few days passed without incident.
Aside from necessary work-related communication, Ethan and I had no extra interaction.
The weight I'd been carrying lifted slightly.
Maybe I'd been overthinking. Time had passed, and perhaps Ethan had long since moved on from our less-than-pleasant relationship.
Our life trajectories had briefly intersected through this unexpected workplace collision, but we'd ultimately head in different directions.
That was probably for the best.
I had to admit, personal grudges aside, Ethan was exceptional at his job.
His thinking was clear, his decisions decisive, and he had sharp market instincts. In just a few days, he'd untangled several backlogged department issues and proposed effective solutions.
Compared to our previous mediocre boss who just tried to smooth everything over, the difference was night and day.
The office sentiment had completely shifted. Colleagues who'd been complaining with me about the "parachute boss" now said "Mr. Zhou thinks" and "Mr. Zhou says" with every other breath.
I could only roll my eyes internally and keep my head down working.
After all, keeping my job was what really mattered.
Friday afternoon, close to quitting time, a notification from Ethan popped up in the department chat:
To thank everyone for their hard work and build team cohesion, he was taking us to dinner tonight at a well-known private restaurant. The catch—attendance was mandatory.
The chat exploded with excitement.
My heart sank.
This kind of gathering was basically a recipe for awkwardness.
I was about to make up an excuse.
But Ethan seemed to have X-ray vision. He immediately followed up with another message:
"Everyone's been working hard on this project push. Tonight let's relax—consider it a pre-battle pep talk. I hope you'll all do me the honor of attending. Not a single person missing."
He specifically tagged several colleagues known for being homebodies, including me.
With him putting it like that, refusing would be completely tactless.
I had no choice but to reply in the chat: "Got it, thank you Mr. Zhou."
8.
The restaurant had an elegant ambiance and exquisite cuisine.
Ethan knew how to work a room, maintaining his leadership authority while keeping the conversation light and friendly.
Everyone toasted and drank. The atmosphere quickly became lively.
But for me, this "liveliness" was torture.
I knew that at these business dinners, for front-line employees like me who dealt with clients, alcohol tolerance was practically part of your "work performance."
I'd forced myself to drink plenty of times before when negotiating with clients.
But my tolerance was pathetically low. A few drinks and I was already feeling it.
Sure enough, before long, colleagues started making toasts.
As a team member, I couldn't completely refuse. I could only do my best to keep up.
After several rounds, I felt dizzy and feverish, and my vision started spinning and doubling.
As the guest of honor, Ethan naturally received the most toasts.
But he seemed to have an iron liver, handling it all without breaking a sweat.
In the gaps between toasts, his eyes occasionally drifted to me, carrying an indecipherable depth.
I felt like I couldn't hold on much longer. My stomach churned.
When no one was looking, I slipped a