The sleek black car rolled to a stop in front of Lawrence Enterprises, its towering glass building reflecting the morning light. Employees straightened nervously as Aiden Lawrence's wheelchair appeared at the entrance.
"Good morning, Mr. Lawrence," his secretary greeted, bowing slightly.
He nodded stiffly and wheeled himself toward his private elevator. His movements were precise—controlled—but there was something off about him today. His usually calm, calculating aura felt… unsettled.
Inside his office, the view of the city stretched endlessly before him. Aiden stared at it, yet saw nothing. Every time he tried to focus on a document, a memory intruded—her voice, her laughter, her eyes lighting up when she smiled.
Why do I keep thinking about her?
He clenched his jaw and tried to push the thoughts away. But his mind betrayed him. He saw the image of her last night—standing beside that man, smiling, laughing as if the world wasn't cruel. The man's hand on her shoulder.
He felt his grip tighten on the pen until it snapped in half.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.
A knock came at the door. "Sir? Are you all right?" his assistant asked, poking her head in.
"I'm fine," he said quickly, his tone clipped. "Cancel the afternoon meeting. Reschedule for tomorrow."
The assistant blinked. "But, sir, it's the quarterly—"
"I said cancel it!"
"Yes, sir." She backed out immediately.
Aiden ran a hand through his hair, his frustration simmering. He didn't like losing control—especially not because of a woman.
He stared down at the photo frame on his desk. It wasn't Mae's—it was a company photo taken last year. Everyone smiling. Himself included. Back when he could still pretend life was stable.
But things had changed. Mia had changed everything.
The way she looked at him—not with pity, but with quiet determination—had chipped away at the walls he'd built since Mae's death. And yet, her laughter with another man had brought back all his fears… of betrayal, of being made a fool of again.
He wheeled to the window, staring down at the city. His reflection stared back—a man trapped between past ghosts and a new, unfamiliar ache.
He hated that ache.
He hated that it had a name.
Mia.
Back at the mansion, Mia was quietly sweeping the hallway when Mrs. Lawrence approached her with a kind smile.
"You made him breakfast again, didn't you?"
Mia blushed. "He didn't eat it."
Mrs. Lawrence chuckled softly. "He will… eventually. He just doesn't know how to show gratitude yet."
Mia smiled faintly. "Maybe one day he'll learn."
The older woman patted her shoulder. "One day, dear. Just keep being yourself."
As Mrs. Lawrence walked away, Mia stared out the window—the same one Aiden had stared through earlier. Somewhere out there, he was thinking of her, even if he didn't want to admit it.