He didn't sleep.
Not really.
Just laid there, propped on her tiny couch, watching her breathe from across the room.
Wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, mug long empty, heart full.
Mara Daniels.
The woman who left without slamming a door.
The woman who deserved someone who'd fight for her.
The woman who forgave; silently, but completely.
She stirred.
"You're still up?"
"Didn't want to miss anything."
She blinked, drowsy, adorably skeptical.
"There's nothing happening."
"Exactly. And it's perfect."
He stood, walked over, crouched in front of her like she was something fragile and sacred.
"Mara, I need you to hear this. I'm not going anywhere. Not again."
"Don't make promises when you're sleep-deprived."
"I'm making them because I'm done running. I want you. Not for a night. Not for convenience. For real."
She looked at him, hesitant, like someone who's seen too many rainclouds to trust the sun.
"We can't go public. Not yet."
"Then we won't. We'll keep this..."
He gently took her hand.
"...ours."
"I don't want to be your weakness."
"You're not. You're the only part of my life that doesn't feel fake."
A soft silence. A shared breath.
She leaned in just enough for their foreheads to touch.
"Okay. We try. Quietly."
"Quiet doesn't mean small."
"Good. Because I love loud."
They both smiled.
The next morning…
The sky was clear. The rain had stopped.
But something in the air felt new.
She stood by the window, phone in hand.
"Hi. Yes. About the offer..."
She glanced at the couch. Empty now, but warm.
"...I won't be taking it anymore. Thank you."
She hung up.
No dramatic speeches.
No second-guessing.
Just her choosing him.
The way he finally chose her.
....
Mara entered the office like she didn't just spend the night wrapped in whispered confessions and sleepy promises.
She walked past the front desk.
Past the elevators.
Past HR and IT and the breakroom that always smelled like burnt toast.
And then..
His office.
Door slightly ajar.
His voice inside.
She didn't look.
Not even once.
We said we'd keep it private.
This is fine. This is professional. This is..
"Miss Daniels."
She flinched.
He was behind her now. Close. Too close.
"Good morning," she said, not meeting his eyes.
"That's all I get?" His voice dipped, teasing. "After last night?"
"You're my boss. You get a spreadsheet."
He chuckled low, that kind of laugh that was warm and dangerous and should absolutely not be allowed in fluorescent lighting.
Later that day…
"Did Mr. Zayn just call you 'sunshine'?"
"I'm afraid so," Mara sighed.
"And he brought you coffee? With oat milk?"
"Yup."
"He remembered your milk preference?"
"Unfortunately."
"Girl. He's in love."
"He's... annoying."
But her cheeks were already pink.
Lunchtime.
She sat at her desk, nibbling on a protein bar, pretending not to notice him watching from his glass office.
Don't come out. Don't come out. Don't you dare..
The door swung open.
"Daniels."
"Sir?"
"Walk with me?"
Her coworkers froze.
She grabbed her phone and followed him like it was casual. Normal. Like her heart wasn't thumping hard enough to echo in her heels.
Rooftop.
Private. Quiet. Windy enough to mess up her ponytail.
He handed her a smoothie. Her favorite.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"This. All this. Someone's gonna notice."
He leaned in.
"Let them."
"We said private."
"I didn't say invisible."
She turned away.
"You're making it hard to pretend we're nothing."
"Good," he said. "Because we're not nothing, Mara."
She closed her eyes.
"You're gonna ruin me."
"Then we'll be ruined together."
She laughed despite herself, turning to face him.
And for a moment, under the city sky and in the middle of their messy secret;
it felt like the world paused just for them.