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Scene 2 —
The air in the room was still. Andrew leaned back in his sleek
leather chair, eyes locked on the ceiling, but clearly
somewhere far beyond it. His voice, when it came, was low.
Vulnerable.
"I didn't even expect her to agree to come here…"
Sam blinked, then did a full double take, nearly spilling his
coffee.
"Whoa, hold up. Did I just hear that right?" he said, voice
rising in mock shock.
"Nervous? You? Andrew Knight? The man whose glare could
dismantle a boardroom?"
Andrew didn't answer. Just kept staring at the ceiling, jaw tight.
Sam grinned like the devil.
"You're so far gone, dude. I mean, I was the one who
suggested calling her here—just to stir things up a little. You
both are like two statues frozen in front of each other. She's
nervous. You're nervous. Silent stares, awkward vibes.
Somebody had to do something!"
He walked over dramatically, flopping onto the couch, arms spread.
"Let's face it: You two barely speak. You get all stiff, she shrinks into a ball of nervous smiles. So here I am—the honorary third wheel, the designated ice-breaker, and unofficial CEO of chaos."
At that moment, a staff member entered with a polished food trolley. Orange juice, grapes, chocolates, apple slices—every single thing Sarah loved. Every tiny favorite of hers lined up with care like a curated memory on wheels.
Andrew's gaze swept over the tray like a checklist, silently confirming everything.
Then, to the staff:
"You can go now. And… your bonus will be paid this evening."
The staff member blinked, stunned. Nodded. Left quickly.
Sam nearly choked.
"No. No. Did I just witness what I think I did? Andrew Knight not only remembered all her favorites—
he gestured wildly at the trolley,
"—but personally made sure not one thing was missed. Bro, this is next-level exam prep behavior."
Andrew stayed quiet, eyes fixed toward the private elevator.
Sam leaned in, lips parted in mock horror.
"No… don't tell me. You even have a written list of her likes and dislikes, don't you?"
Andrew didn't blink.
"OH MY GOD. You do. You're not even denying it anymore. You are so in deep, my guy. Completely whipped. Are you even aware?"
Andrew finally looked at him—calm, composed, but something soft in his eyes.
"I know."
He said it simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Just then, the elevator dinged.
Sarah stepped out, a little hesitant, her eyes scanning the luxurious hallway. Lian stood beside her, gently pointing toward the tall black doors.
"This way, Miss Sarah," he said with a polite bow.
Andrew turned slightly in his chair, gaze locked on the door.
And for the first time in a very long time, he didn't feel in control.
He never planned this.
Never meant to feel this.
Yet here he was—remembering her favorite juice, her favorite fruit, her favorite everything.
And now… she's just outside that door.
What will he say?
Will he finally admit what's written in every stolen glance?
Or will silence ruin everything again?
Will she walk into his world… or walk away from it forever?
---
To be continued....
He let her in once… and now he's terrified she'll leave.
But when secrets start slipping through shadows—will their fragile connection survive the truth?