Walking through the tinted sliding doors, I was greeted by the receptionist.
"Good day, have you made a reservation?" she asked with a pleasant smile.
"Yes... Sunrise 302," I replied, offering a small smile of my own.
Her expression faltered slightly—caught off guard, maybe by the name or perhaps by something else—but I ignored it and followed her through the quiet, tastefully lit hallway toward the private room.
When we reached the door, she gave a slight bow and hurried away, leaving me alone.
Taking a steadying breath, I raised my hand and knocked lightly—twice.
"Come in," a voice called out, low and slightly hoarse, carrying a subtle weariness.
I opened the door and stepped inside.
There he was—just like the pictures I'd seen—tall, handsome… but visibly tired. He wore slate-gray slacks and a dark blue button-down shirt. The sleeves were rolled to just below his elbows, and the first two buttons were undone, giving him a relaxed but effortlessly sharp appearance.
Hm? So he really does hate formalwear… just like the online gossip says.
When he saw me, he stood, his movements smooth despite the faint shadows under his eyes. He reached for a bouquet of soft pink peonies that lay on the table, arranged with care.
Closing the door behind me, he stepped forward and spoke.
"Welcome… thank you for your time. I'm Silas," he said, offering his hand.
"Hello, I'm Jiana," I responded with a polite smile as we shook hands.
"These are for you," he said, handing me the flowers before gesturing to the table.
Quite the gentleman, I thought, glancing down at the bouquet.
"Thank you," I said softly, admiring the delicate petals before setting them carefully aside.
He sat across from me, his gaze calm but curious.
"Would you like to order first… or talk?" he asked.
"Let's get to know each other a bit first," I answered, meeting his eyes.
"I won't go over everything—I'm sure you already know the basics," he began, his voice firm but sincere.
"As you know, I'm in this position because of an incident that happened a while back, and now… I have a three-month-old daughter. I don't know if that's something you're ready to take on, but let me say this clearly: if you do agree to the marriage, I'll do everything in my power to take care of you—physically, mentally, emotionally, and financially. Not that you lack anything… but still."
He paused briefly before continuing, eyes steady.
"Marriage, for me, is a one-time thing. I don't intend to do this again, so if I do it, I'll do it right. If that's something you can accept, we can move forward. If not, then there's no point in dragging this out."
He leaned back slightly, giving me space.
"Now that you've heard my thoughts—do you have anything you want to say or ask? Please, be honest."
He laid all his cards on the table without hesitation.
I studied him for a moment, one brow slightly raised. So, he's that kind of man. Serious, direct, no pretense. Not bad.
"I'm fine with that," I began calmly, returning his gaze.
"Like you said—marriage is something I'll only do once. I don't have a second time in me either. As for emotions or love? That can grow over time. What matters more to me is the foundation: honesty, loyalty, respect. That's my bare minimum."
I watched his expression, measured and thoughtful.
"I won't lay everything out right now, but you seem like a smart man. You'll understand in time. Regarding your daughter—I have no issue with her. Whether you want me to adopt her as my own or keep some distance, that's up to you. I'll respect whatever you're comfortable with."
Then I added, softly but with conviction:
"What I want is someone I can grow old with. I'm not trying to be in and out of relationships. I don't have the energy—or the mental space—for that kind of chaos."
I held his gaze, letting the silence settle between us.
Silas held my gaze, his expression unreadable for a moment—until something in his shoulders seemed to relax.
"That's more than fair," he said, his voice quieter now, thoughtful. "I wasn't sure what kind of person you'd be… but I'm glad. You're clear about what you want. I respect that."
He nodded slowly, as if settling something in his mind.
"As for my daughter," he continued, "if you're truly comfortable with it… I'd like for you to adopt her as your own. She needs a stable figure in her life. Someone who won't treat her like a burden or a secret. If you're willing to give her that, then I'm already grateful."
Something in his voice softened when he spoke of her—a tenderness that told me, despite his tired eyes and careful tone, that he wasn't just trying to do the right thing. He cared deeply.
"Then let's give this a try," I said with a faint smile. "We've both made our terms clear. I'll uphold mine."
A flicker of relief crossed his face, subtle but genuine.
The waiter arrived shortly after with their orders, quietly setting the dishes down before leaving them alone again. The rest of the lunch flowed easier, the tension gone. They spoke about light things—work, art, travel. Silas wasn't overly talkative, but he listened well, and when he did speak, it was with purpose.
I noticed the way he looked at people—carefully, like he was always trying to figure out what they weren't saying. It didn't bother me. In fact, I appreciated it. It meant he paid attention.
When the meal ended, he took out his phone and passed it across the table.
"May I?" he asked.
"Of course."
We exchanged numbers, and I saved his contact as simply "Silas," no emojis, no overthinking. Just the beginning.
He stood and walked me out, offering his arm. I took it without hesitation.
Outside, the car was already waiting. Andy stood at attention by the passenger door, but for a moment, I lingered.
"Thank you for today," Silas said, his tone earnest. "I know it wasn't easy, but I meant what I said. I'll do my part—just be patient with me, and I'll meet you halfway."
"Same to you," I replied softly. "Let's not rush. We've got time."
He nodded, his eyes meeting mine one last time before I got into the car.
As the door closed and the engine hummed to life, I glanced out the window. He was still there, hands in his pockets, watching as we pulled away.
A small smile tugged at my lips.
Not bad for a first meeting.