Aftermath
Mikha sat in her office, her fingers drumming lightly on her polished mahogany desk. The gold-plated plaque that read Mikha Lim, CEO – Terra Firma gleamed under the sunlight streaming through the tall windows. She had been back in her company's headquarters for a few days now, diving back into the demanding world of business strategies and expansion plans. Yet, every time she glanced at her phone or opened her laptop, thoughts of Aiah and that night at the bar crept in.
"Terra Firma needs your focus," she reminded herself, her voice barely above a whisper. There were contracts to sign, clients to call, and a project collaboration with Aiah's Verda Co. that required her input. The partnership had been announced to the public as a groundbreaking alliance between two rival companies, but to Mikha, it felt like a personal battlefield.
A knock on her door broke her thoughts. Her assistant, Jhoanna, stepped in.
"Hey, the meeting with Aiah's team is scheduled for tomorrow. It's about the final marketing strategies for the product launch," Jhoanna reported, placing the folder on Mikha's desk.
Mikha exhaled, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the surface of her desk. "Good. Let’s make sure we’re ready. I’m not letting her push her ideas onto this project. We’ve been compromising too much."
Jhoanna raised an eyebrow. "You mean she’s been pushing her ideas, right?"
Mikha gave her assistant a sharp look. "Not the point. We need to nail down a direction, and we need it now."
The next day, Mikha walked into the sleek Verda Co. offices, her steps purposeful. She knew what she was getting into. Another round of arguments, another round of pushing her limits. The last few meetings had been tense, and this one wouldn’t be any different.
She was right. The moment she stepped into the conference room, she found Aiah already there, seated at the head of the table, surrounded by her team. Aiah’s presence alone seemed to fill the room, her expression cool and focused. Mikha couldn’t help but notice how composed she looked — everything about Aiah was always so… controlled.
"Good morning," Mikha greeted, setting her briefcase down with a quiet thud. She met Aiah's eyes for a brief second, feeling the familiar tension simmering beneath the surface.
Aiah gave her a curt nod. "Morning. Let’s get this over with."
The meeting started, but it quickly descended into a verbal sparring match. Mikha and Aiah were both sharp-minded CEOs, their words quick and calculated, always aimed at outdoing the other. Every time one of them presented an idea, the other countered it almost immediately.
"This isn’t going to work," Aiah said, her voice sharp as she glanced at Mikha's proposal. "We can’t keep using the same tired strategies. Our audience expects innovation, not what you’re offering."
Mikha shot back, her expression tight. "Innovation is one thing, but you can’t just throw caution to the wind. We can’t risk launching a campaign that isn’t solid, Aiah."
"Risk is part of the game," Aiah replied, her voice low but filled with conviction. "You’ve been playing it safe for too long."
The words hung between them like a challenge.
"I don’t need to play at being cautious, Aiah," Mikha retorted, her eyes narrowing. "I’m already in a position where my decisions have to matter. We’re not in this to win a popularity contest."
Aiah’s lips twisted into a slight smirk. "Oh, I know that. But I also know that without a bit of boldness, this partnership is going to be nothing more than a safe, forgettable venture. That’s not the legacy I’m building."
There was a charged silence between them. Their teams exchanged uncomfortable glances, unsure whether they should intervene.
Mikha took a deep breath, her jaw tight. "Let’s cut the drama. We’re here to figure this out, not turn it into a personal battle."
Aiah’s eyes softened ever so slightly, but the edge in her voice remained. "You started it."
Mikha leaned back in her chair, exhaling slowly. "Fine. What do you suggest, then?"
Aiah didn’t hesitate. She laid out her vision — a new approach to marketing that was more daring, more experimental, and far outside Mikha's usual comfort zone.
Mikha listened carefully, though her lips were pressed into a firm line. She didn’t like it. But she couldn’t deny that Aiah’s ideas were bold. And there was something about that confidence that gnawed at her, like a challenge she couldn’t back down from.
"I’ll need to look over the numbers," Mikha finally said, her voice calm despite the whirlwind of thoughts in her head. "But if this goes wrong, you’ll be taking the fall, Aiah. Not me."
Aiah’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of defiance and amusement. "Don’t worry, Mikha. I’m more than capable of handling it."
The rest of the meeting was filled with tense discussions and strategic planning. The arguments never stopped — both CEOs always trying to outdo one another. It was exhausting. But it was also exhilarating in its own way.
As the meeting came to a close, Mikha stood up, gathering her things with swift, deliberate movements.
"I’ll get back to you on this," Mikha said. "Let’s just hope you’re right about the risk."
Aiah stood as well, offering a fleeting smile. "Don’t worry, I always am."
And with that, they parted ways again, but the silence between them spoke volumes. The tension was still there, simmering just beneath the surface.
As Mikha stepped out of the Verda Co. building, the weight of the meeting still clung to her. Every word, every exchange with Aiah felt like it lingered in the air long after they were spoken. It was a game, one that Mikha couldn’t help but play despite the tension that never seemed to dissolve.
She glanced at her phone, seeing a few missed messages from Jhoanna. Apparently, there were updates on the latest project revisions at Terra Firma. Mikha quickly typed a reply, but her mind kept drifting back to Aiah — to the way she had sat there, cool and composed, never backing down, always challenging Mikha at every turn.
This is what business is. No room for weakness, Mikha reminded herself.
But deep down, she couldn't ignore the way her heart skipped whenever their eyes met. It wasn’t supposed to matter. They were CEOs. Partners, yes, but partners with differing visions. Aiah was stubborn, brash, and sometimes outright frustrating. Yet, there was something about her that kept Mikha on edge.
Aiah’s presence had a way of pulling Mikha in, whether she wanted it or not. Mikha wasn’t sure if it was the passion or the constant challenge, but she knew one thing for certain: the lines between business and something else were becoming increasingly blurry.
///
Aiah stared out the large window of her office, watching the city move below. The hum of the world seemed so distant compared to the thoughts that occupied her mind. She couldn’t escape the memory — that kiss. The collision of their lips that had been interrupted by the weight of the moment. But it was enough.
She hadn’t expected it. She never would’ve thought that Mikha could do something so... impulsive. Or maybe it wasn’t impulsive at all. Maybe it had been calculated, a move in their constant game of pushing and pulling. Whatever it had been, it was far more than Aiah had anticipated. And yet, her mind couldn’t seem to stop replaying it, over and over again.
She clenched her jaw, frustrated. The image of Mikha’s face so close, the heat of her breath, the way their lips almost touched — it gnawed at her, distracting her during the meetings, in the quiet moments when she should’ve been focused.
It’s just business. Just business, she repeated in her head.
But the more she tried to convince herself of it, the more the lines between business and something else blurred. Mikha was always there, challenging her, keeping her on edge. They fought, but there was always something unspoken beneath it, something far more dangerous than mere rivalry.
Aiah ran a hand through her hair and stood up, pacing in the middle of her office. Her mind was all over the place. One moment, she couldn’t stand Mikha, and the next, she was wondering if she’d ever be able to truly stop thinking about her.
That damned kiss. It wasn’t even a kiss, but it had
felt like one, the chemistry between them palpable. She had to admit, there was an attraction there, even if she didn’t want to acknowledge it. She didn’t want to want it, especially not with someone like Mikha. They were enemies — business rivals, partners with clashing visions, constantly butting heads. There was no room for anything else.
Yet, the memory of Mikha’s eyes locking with hers, the challenge in her gaze, and the way she had almost leaned in, the tension crackling between them... it lingered. Aiah couldn’t deny it.
She sighed, resting her forehead against the cool glass of the window. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered to herself.
It had been one moment, one breathless second in time, and yet it felt like it was echoing in her chest. She had to let it go. It didn’t mean anything. Mikha didn’t mean anything.
But why couldn’t she shake the feeling that it was already too late for that?
The sound of her phone vibrating on her desk snapped her out of her thoughts. Aiah quickly glanced at the screen and saw it was a message from Stacey. She didn’t bother reading it immediately, her attention still split between the message and the lingering, impossible thoughts about Mikha.
Shaking her head, she grabbed the phone, quickly typing a response to Stacey. She needed to focus.
No more distractions.
///
Mikha stood in the corner of the sleek, upscale café, trying her best to act natural. The hum of conversation and the clinking of coffee cups felt distant, as her thoughts spiraled back to the moment earlier that week.
The kiss.
Her lips had brushed against Aiah's, and the sensation was still fresh in her mind. The electricity that had surged through her the moment their faces had drawn so close was something Mikha had never expected. It wasn’t a simple, accidental touch; their lips had met — briefly, but undeniably.
It had been a mess of emotions, confusion, and the kind of tension that left Mikha feeling both restless and conflicted. They had parted with barely a word after that. The world had felt quieter in that awkward silence. Aiah, always so composed, had walked away without a trace of hesitation, as though it hadn’t happened.
Mikha wasn’t so sure.
The door to the café chimed, and Mikha’s thoughts were interrupted as Gwen, a mutual colleague, walked in. She spotted Mikha immediately, making her way toward the table with a bright smile.
“Hey, Mikha! Busy day?” Gwen asked as she sat down, setting her coffee cup down with a soft thud.
Mikha offered a tight smile, trying to brush off the weight in her chest. “Yeah, the usual. Meetings, projects... Nothing out of the ordinary.”
Gwen raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying the casual tone. “You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind. May nangyari ba?”
Mikha’s stomach tightened at the question. She was still reeling from the kiss, but there was no way in hell she would talk about that here. Not with Gwen. Not with anyone.
“It’s nothing,” Mikha said quickly, glancing down at her phone. Her fingers hovered over the screen but she didn’t respond to the messages. "Just business stuff."
Gwen leaned back, watching Mikha closely. She opened her mouth to say something but stopped, sensing that Mikha wasn’t in the mood for conversation.
The tension between Mikha and Aiah hung heavily in her thoughts, and no amount of distractions could make it go away. Mikha had thought she could keep things professional, keep the lines clear, but everything had become a gray area.
As Gwen continued to talk about work, Mikha couldn’t shake the feeling that the kiss was just the beginning of something else. Something she wasn’t sure she was ready for, but already couldn’t deny.
Mikha sat back in her chair, trying to focus on Gwen's words, but her mind kept wandering back to that moment with Aiah. It was like a magnetic pull — every time she tried to think about something else, Aiah's face would pop up in her mind. The way she’d looked at Mikha right before their lips had brushed, the intensity, the challenge in her eyes.
Mikha ran a hand through her hair, frustration bubbling inside her. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were business partners, enemies in a sense. The thought of anything more, especially after the chaos of their constant arguments, seemed impossible. But that kiss, damn it, it wasn’t something she could just forget.
“Hey, Mikha, ayos ka lang?” Gwen’s voice snapped Mikha out of her thoughts.
Mikha blinked, looking up at Gwen who was now staring at her with a raised brow, concern flickering in her eyes.
“Yeah, sorry,” Mikha quickly said, trying to regain her composure. She flashed a forced smile. “Just... busy with everything. You know how it is.”
Gwen didn’t look convinced, but she nodded and let the topic slide. Mikha sighed inwardly, grateful for the change in subject, but her mind was far from at ease. There was no denying it anymore. Things with Aiah were... complicated. And Mikha wasn’t sure if she was ready for the storm that was coming.
///
The café was quiet now, the soft hum of low conversations and clinking mugs filling the air as the late afternoon sun bathed the space in a warm glow. Mikha had been sitting by the window, her thoughts wandering as she absently stirred her coffee. The events of the day had left her drained, but something about this place always helped her relax, even if just for a few moments.
She glanced down at her phone, reading through a few emails from her assistant. Nothing too urgent. As she set the phone back down on the table, she caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye. Aiah. She hadn’t expected to see her here, of all places.
"Well, well," Gwen murmured with a sly grin. "Look who it is."
Mikha’s breath caught for just a second, a rush of unwanted tension filling the space between them. Aiah was dressed casually today, her hair loosely tied back, but still commanding attention with that undeniable aura of confidence that Mikha both admired and hated.
She wasn’t sure why it affected her so much, but the way Aiah carried herself, the way she looked at Mikha—there was always this unspoken challenge between them.
Before Mikha could fully process it, Aiah caught her eye from across the room, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Mikha swallowed, her pulse quickening despite herself. The last thing she wanted was to feel that way again, but it was inevitable, wasn’t it?
“Fancy seeing you here,” Aiah’s voice was casual, though there was a certain sharpness to it, a challenge that Mikha immediately picked up on.
Mikha narrowed her eyes, but she wasn’t going to let her show any weakness. “I could say the same to you,” she replied, lifting her coffee to her lips, making sure her hand was steady despite the unease that had started to build.
Gwen chuckled, sensing the storm brewing. “You two are like fireworks waiting to explode,” she commented, taking another sip of her coffee with exaggerated innocence.
Aiah raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond directly to Gwen. “I didn’t know you were a regular here, Mikha,” she said, her eyes shifting between Mikha and Gwen. “Guess it’s a small world.”
Mikha clenched her jaw, but her voice was cool. “Not everything’s about you, Aiah. Maybe you should try not making everything a competition for once.”
Aiah smirked, leaning slightly against the edge of the table. “'Yan ba iniisip mo? That this is some sort of game?” Her voice dropped an octave, a dangerous edge to it now.
Gwen watched them both, an amused glint in her eye as she glanced from one to the other.
“Ooh,” she remarked, playing the part of an uninterested observer while clearly loving every second of it.
Mikha shot Gwen a warning look but then turned her attention back to Aiah. “Not everything’s a competition, Aiah,” she repeated, her tone more measured now, though the heat of the argument was still there. “But you wouldn’t know how to act without one.”
Aiah laughed softly, that ever-present challenge flickering in her eyes. “It’s not about competition. It’s about not backing down. And I don’t back down, Mikha.”
Mikha leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping the side of her cup absentmindedly, trying not to show how much Aiah’s words affected her. “Tingnan natin,” she replied, her voice tight with suppressed tension.
Gwen let out a soft snort, shaking her head as she leaned back in her chair. “Honestly, para akong nanonood ng dalawang pusa fighting over a toy. So much tension. But I bet it’s also... fun.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, clearly enjoying the interaction.
Aiah ignored Gwen's comment, her eyes never leaving Mikha’s. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Mikha, but you’ve got it wrong if you think I’ll back down. Ever.”
Mikha’s breath hitched, but she refused to let it show. “I don’t need you to back down,” she said softly, almost under her breath. She was testing the waters, unsure whether it was a slip or if Aiah would catch the weight behind the words.
But Aiah just stared at her, a little too long, as if considering something, before giving her that familiar smirk. “You’re still playing this game, huh?” she said, straightening up, and then with a shrug, added, “Good luck.”
And with that, she turned to leave, her presence lingering in the air like a lingering storm. Mikha exhaled, finally realizing she had been holding her breath the entire time.
Gwen, clearly unphased by the drama unfolding in front of her, raised an eyebrow. “I’ve got to admit, I was expecting more of a catfight. You two are playing it cool. Too cool, if you ask me.”
Mikha rubbed her temples, trying to ignore the lingering tension in the café. “You really know how to make everything worse, huh?”
Gwen just grinned, unbothered by the storm she had just stirred. “Hey, nandito lang naman ako for the entertainment. You two really know how to keep things interesting.”
Mikha sighed, leaning back in her chair, wondering just how much longer she could keep this up.
///
Gwen stood up, finishing the last sip of her drink. “Well, I have to go. Work calls.” She winked at Mikha before looking at Aiah, who was walking towards the table.
“Good luck with that,” Gwen said, making Mikha raise an eyebrow. Gwen leaned in closer to Mikha. “If you two keep going in circles, I’m calling it a ‘will they, won’t they’ plot.”
“Gwen, stop.” Mikha sighed, but she couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips. Gwen always had a way of making everything seem more complicated than it was.
“Fine, fine. But don't say I didn’t warn you,” Gwen said, winking one last time before walking away.
Mikha leaned back in her chair, already feeling the familiar tension rise in her chest. But before she could even focus on anything, a voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Mind if I sit?” Aiah’s voice was calm, almost too calm, as if she was unaffected by the encounter.
Mikha glanced up and saw Aiah standing there, looking around for a seat. “All the seats are taken,” Mikha muttered, gesturing to the empty chair across from her.
Aiah raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I’m not asking. I’m sitting.”
Mikha rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the tiny, amused smile that played at the corner of her lips. “Fine. But don’t expect me to entertain you.”
Aiah didn’t reply right away. She just sat down, facing Mikha, her eyes narrowing slightly as she leaned in. “You look like you’re about to say something.”
Mikha crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair, deliberately maintaining some distance. “I’m just enjoying the silence. For once.”
Aiah raised an eyebrow but said nothing. The air between them thickened, and Mikha couldn’t decide if the silence felt comfortable or suffocating.
Aiah smirked, clearly not believing Mikha’s claim about enjoying the silence. “Enjoying the silence, huh? Hindi ko yata kaya ‘yun.”
Mikha rolled her eyes, leaning forward. “Baka ikaw lang ‘yan. I’m fine with it.”
Aiah chuckled, taking a sip of her coffee. “Sure, enjoy all the quiet you want. Just don’t expect me to join you.”
Mikha tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m not asking you to, Aiah. I’m just saying, I don’t mind it.”
Aiah raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Totoo ba ‘yun? Hindi ka ba naiirita? It’s pretty obvious you like to be around people.”
Mikha let out a deep breath. “I’m not the type to get irritated easily. Just... sometimes, it’s nice to be alone.”
Aiah leaned back in her chair, looking around the café before turning her attention back to Mikha. “I guess we’re not so different then.”
Mikha’s gaze softened for a moment, but she quickly masked it with a scoff. “We’re very different, Aiah.”
Aiah’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “I’m starting to think you’re just trying to convince yourself.”
Mikha’s heart skipped a beat. “No need to get all psychoanalyze-y on me.”
Aiah leaned in just a little, lowering her voice. “I’m just saying, Mikha... You want to be understood.”
Mikha raised an eyebrow at Aiah, her expression a mix of defiance and curiosity. “I don’t need anyone’s understanding.”
Aiah tilted her head, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Sure, sure. Pero deep inside, you want someone who gets you, don’t you?”
Mikha’s pulse quickened at the sudden intensity in Aiah’s voice, but she quickly recovered, keeping her tone even. “I’m not looking for a therapist, Aiah. Just a business partner. Nothing more.”
Aiah smirked, unfazed by Mikha’s response. “You can keep telling yourself that, Mikha. But you and I both know it’s not that simple.”
Mikha leaned back in her chair, trying to regain control of the situation. “You really think you have me figured out, don’t you?”
Aiah met her gaze, the smirk never leaving her face. “Not yet. But I’m getting closer.”
Mikha’s lips pressed together as she fought the urge to respond. Instead, she just stared at Aiah, the silence hanging between them, thick with unspoken words. She had to admit, Aiah was right about one thing: nothing between them was simple.
Mikha’s hand rested on her coffee cup, fingers drumming lightly against the surface as she looked at Aiah.
“Look,” Mikha started, her tone softer now but still sharp, “this is a waste of time. You’re right about one thing, though—nothing’s simple. But that doesn’t mean we need to complicate it even more.”
Aiah’s gaze never faltered, her eyes flicking to Mikha’s lips for just a moment before returning to her eyes. “You’re always so good at pretending. Pretending like this isn’t affecting you.”
Mikha’s heart skipped, but she forced herself to stay calm. “I’m not pretending.”
“You’re pretending, Mikha,” Aiah countered, voice low but firm. “And you know it.”
Mikha stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “I don’t have time for this,” she said, her voice now colder than it had been all night.
Aiah watched her, a flash of something—disappointment?—crossing her face. But she didn’t speak. Mikha turned and began walking away, but just before she reached the door, she paused.
“Don’t think this changes anything, Aiah,” Mikha said, her voice a little quieter than before.
Without waiting for a response, Mikha pushed open the door and stepped outside, the cool air hitting her face.
Aiah stayed seated, her fingers tapping the table absently, unsure of what she was feeling. But she wasn’t about to run after Mikha. Not yet.
Aiah sat there, the empty seat across from her almost mocking her. She took a deep breath, letting the silence settle in, but it didn’t feel as comforting as she’d hoped. The coffee that had once seemed so warm now felt cold against her hands, the bitterness of the drink matching the one she couldn’t shake off.
She glanced at Mikha’s retreating figure as she walked out of the café, her shoulders tense. Aiah’s mind raced, but she couldn’t make sense of it. Why had things gotten so complicated? The tension between them had been there from the start, but this... this felt different.
Without thinking, Aiah stood up. She wasn’t sure if it was out of frustration or something else, but she quickly paid for her drink and followed Mikha outside.
The moment Aiah stepped onto the street, she saw Mikha a few steps ahead, her heels clicking sharply on the pavement. Aiah’s heart raced, and she almost called out to her, but the words stuck in her throat.
Mikha paused, her back still to Aiah, but her shoulders stiffened slightly, as though she could feel Aiah’s presence without needing to turn around.
Aiah stayed frozen in her spot. They weren’t done, not yet, but the space between them felt like it was growing, the tension still hanging thick in the air.