The rest of the week passed quickly for Sophie.
Days blurred into one another — long shifts, steady routines, quiet evenings. The emergency department demanded focus, and Sophie gave it everything. In the controlled urgency of medicine, time moved differently. There was no space for hesitation, no room for distraction.
And yet, beneath the calm rhythm of her days, something lingered — something unresolved, something waiting.
She did not see Harley again.
But she knew, sooner or later, she would.
---
Friday night in Seoul carried a different energy — louder, brighter, alive with movement. Deep within the city, tucked behind glass and shadow, Lumen glowed softly under dim lights and quiet music. It was a place of familiarity, routine, and unspoken tradition.
Inside one of the VIP lounges, Harley Huang sat back in a dark leather chair, expression calm and unreadable. Around him, his closest circle gathered — James, composed and observant as always; Nicholas, thoughtful and steady; and Dylan, relaxed yet sharp, his presence lighter but watchful.
This was their ritual.
Every Friday.
Drinks lined the low table between them. Smoke curled slowly through the dim air — only Harley and James held cigarettes, the faint glow of embers flickering in the half-light.
For a while, conversation was casual — business, trivial matters, fragments of the week passing by.
Then—
Nicholas set his glass down quietly.
"I saw Sophie," he said.
The room stilled.
Harley did not move.
But something in the air shifted — subtle, sharp, undeniable.
"Where?" James asked calmly.
"At Amy's place. A few nights ago."
Dylan leaned forward slightly, interest flashing in his eyes. "Well? After five years… is she hotter?"
The question had barely left his mouth when Harley's gaze lifted — cold, sharp, lethal.
Dylan raised both hands instantly. "Relax. Just asking."
Silence lingered.
Then Harley spoke, voice low and steady.
"I know."
Three pairs of eyes turned toward him.
"I spotted her at the dealership this week," he continued, taking a slow drag from his cigarette before exhaling upward. "She tried to leave without being noticed."
Nicholas frowned slightly. "She didn't want you to know she was back yet."
A flicker of guilt passed through him. He hadn't wanted to betray the girls' trust, but Harley needed to know. He hadn't been the same since that dreadful day.
Harley's jaw tightened faintly, though his expression remained composed.
"She came back…" he murmured quietly to himself, "and didn't even come to see me."
No one spoke.
Because they all understood what lay beneath those words — not just anger, but something deeper, older, unresolved.
James exhaled slowly, smoke drifting upward. "What will you do?"
Harley did not answer immediately.
His fingers tapped once against the glass in his hand.
Then, softly—
"I don't know."
But beneath the calm, he was seething.
Five years of pent-up emotions pressed against the walls he had built so carefully. Part of him wanted to confront her now — demand answers, demand truth. But another part knew…
If he pushed too hard, he might lose her for good.
---
Later that night, the city was quieter.
Harley returned home alone, the faint echo of the evening still lingering in his mind. The mansion stood silent beneath the night sky, lights dim, corridors still.
He loosened his collar and walked slowly toward the balcony.
The air was cool, carrying the distant hum of the city below. He stood there, hands resting lightly against the railing, gaze unfocused — not seeing the skyline, but something far beyond it.
Her face.
Her voice.
Five years ago—
"I can't stay."
Her words had been soft, but final.
No explanation.
No promise.
No return.
Just silence.
Five years of it.
And now she was back.
Back in his city.
Back in his world.
But not for him.
She hadn't come to see him.
Hadn't called.
Hadn't even tried.
Harley exhaled slowly, the weight in his chest tightening — not rage, not quite pain, but something unresolved, something unfinished.
"She left," he murmured quietly to the empty night. "And came back like nothing happened."
Yet even as the thought formed, another followed — quieter, deeper.
He had seen her.
Just for a moment.
Unchanged.
And in that brief glimpse, five years had disappeared as if they had never existed.
Harley closed his eyes briefly, the city lights flickering beneath him.
No matter how far she had gone…
No matter how long she had stayed away…
Some bonds did not break.
They only waited.
And now—
The silence between them had ended.