After crying for what felt like forever, Lisa finally forced herself to stop.
She remained seated for a few more minutes, staring blankly at the cubicle door while trying to steady her breathing.
Slowly, she wiped away every trace of tears from her face. She splashed water on her cheeks.
Again.
And again.
Until her red eyes looked less obvious. She stared at herself in the mirror for a moment.
A weak smile.
Practice.
Another smile.
Better.
She picked up her bag and walked back toward the office.
Every step felt heavier than before.
When she entered, nobody seemed to notice anything unusual.
She quietly moved to her desk and sat down.
Her fingers rested on the keyboard, but her mind was somewhere else entirely.
A few minutes later, Gladys rolled her chair slightly closer and looked at her suspiciously.
"You took so long. Are you sure you and Canary had a great time beyond office?" Gladys teased with a playful smile.
Lisa froze for a second.
Her chest tightened.
But she quickly forced a small laugh.
"Haha… yes," Lisa said with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes.
Gladys laughed lightly and returned to her work.
Lisa also turned back to her computer.
The clicking sounds of keyboards filled the office again.
Everything looked normal.
Yet every few seconds, Lisa found herself staring unconsciously toward Canary's office door.
Waiting.
Hoping.
Wondering if he regretted everything he had said.
Inside his office, Canary sat silently, staring at documents he had not read once.
Because no matter how hard he tried to focus
His mind remained on Lisa.
——
That evening, Canary drove aimlessly through the city. The roads were crowded, the streetlights glowing against the darkening sky, but he barely noticed any of it. His mind was elsewhere.
Eventually, he pulled up in front of a bar and sat in the car for several seconds, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
He had promised himself he would never return to such a place, yet here he was. With a bitter smile, he stepped out of the car and walked inside.
The loud music, flashing lights, and smell of alcohol immediately hit him. The bartender recognized him at once and greeted him.
"Mr. Canary."
Canary simply nodded before taking a seat at the counter.
"A bottle."
The bartender hesitated.
"Sir…"
"A bottle."
The bartender sighed and obeyed. Soon, a glass was placed before him. Canary picked it up and emptied it in one gulp, then another, and another.
Several women sitting nearby quickly noticed him. A handsome, wealthy man drinking alone was impossible to miss.
One of them approached him with a smile.
"Hey handsome, mind if I join you?"
Canary did not even look at her.
"No."
The woman forced a laugh.
"Come on, don't be so serious."
Canary slowly turned his head and looked at her with a cold expression.
"I said no."
Embarrassed, she walked away. A few minutes later, another woman tried her luck and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You look lonely."
Canary removed her hand without saying a word. The woman frowned and left. He continued drinking glass after glass.
No matter how much he drank, Lisa's face refused to leave his mind.
Meanwhile, Lisa had taken a taxi back to her room. The moment she stepped inside, her chest tightened.
Everything reminded her of Canary the couch where they had sat together, the kitchen where they had cooked together, and the bed where they had spent countless nights talking until morning.
Tears immediately filled her eyes. She slowly walked toward the bed and sat down. The silence in the room felt unbearable.
"Why?"
The more she tried to stop crying, the harder the tears came. Soon she was curled up on the bed, crying helplessly as memories of their happy moments replayed endlessly in her mind.
Back at the bar, Canary had completely lost count of how many drinks he had consumed.
The bottles on the counter kept increasing. His vision became blurry and his words slurred.
Eventually, his body gave up and he collapsed against the counter. The bartender quickly rushed over.
"Mr. Canary!"
There was no response. The bartender checked his wallet, hoping to find someone to contact.
Inside was a business card from Andersons Group containing a number. Without wasting time, he made the call.
At the Andersons mansion, Lucy was relaxing in the living room when her phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Good evening, ma'am. I'm calling from Downtown Bar. We found this number in Mr. Canary's wallet."
Lucy immediately sat upright.
"What happened?"
"He's extremely drunk, ma'am."
Lucy's face went pale.
"What?"
"He can barely move."
For a moment, she could not believe what she had heard. Canary was drinking again. Her heart filled with worry.
After ending the call, she immediately dialed Michael's number.
"Hello, ma'am."
"Michael, please help me. Go pick up Canary right now."
Michael immediately stood up from his chair.
"What happened?"
"He's drunk."
Michael's eyes widened.
"I'll be there immediately."
Less than thirty minutes later, Michael arrived at the bar. As soon as he entered, he spotted Canary slumped against the counter, barely conscious. His expression darkened as he quickly walked over.
"Sir…"
Canary did not respond. Michael then turned toward the bartender.
"What happened?"
The bartender sighed heavily.
"He came in alone and started drinking nonstop. We tried slowing him down, but he wouldn't listen."
Michael looked at the countless empty bottles lined across the counter.
His jaw tightened. He had never seen Canary like this before, not even during the hardest moments of his life. Something was seriously wrong.
Michael looked at the bartender and pulled out his wallet.
"I'll pay the bill."
The bartender nodded and told him the amount. Michael paid without hesitation before looking back at Canary, who was barely able to keep his eyes open.
"I'll take him from here."
With great difficulty, Michael helped Canary to his feet. Canary's body swayed dangerously as he struggled to stand.
His eyes opened and closed repeatedly as if he were fighting to remain conscious. Michael wrapped one of Canary's arms around his shoulder and slowly guided him outside.
A few minutes later, they were on their way back to the Andersons mansion.
Meanwhile, Lucy paced anxiously around the living room. Ketra had already been informed about Canary's condition and remained with her. Neither of them could sit still.
When they finally heard a car pull into the compound, both women immediately rushed outside.
Michael stepped out first before opening the back door.
Canary was slumped against the seat.
"Sir, we're home."
Canary barely reacted.
Michael grabbed him and struggled to pull him out of the car.
One of the guards immediately stepped forward.
"Sir, let us help."
"Quickly," Ketra said. "Help Michael support him."
The guards rushed over and reached for Canary.
To everyone's surprise, Canary suddenly pushed them away.
"Don't touch me…"
He staggered forward.
His legs gave way beneath him and he almost crashed onto the ground.
"Sir!"
Michael reacted quickly and caught him before he could fall.
Lucy watched the entire scene with disbelief.
She had never seen Canary like this. Not once.
Not even during the hardest periods of his life.
Her heart ached.
Michael adjusted his grip around Canary.
"I'll take him to his room."
The others simply nodded.
Together, they slowly made their way into the mansion. Canary was only half conscious.
His eyes kept opening and closing. Sometimes he appeared awake, and the next second he looked completely gone.
Lucy silently followed behind.
When they finally reached his room, Michael carefully lowered him onto the bed.
"There you go, sir."
Canary did not respond. Michael looked at Lucy.
"I think he'll sleep it off."
Lucy nodded.
"Thank you, Michael."
Michael gave a respectful nod before quietly leaving the room.
Lucy remained behind. She slowly sat on the edge of the bed and stared at Canary.
His face looked exhausted.
Broken.
Carefully, she removed his shoes and placed them beside the bed.
Then she looked back at him.
"Why, Canary?"
Her voice trembled.
"Why would you drink like this?"
There was no response. Canary remained unconscious.
Lucy sighed heavily and stood up. She was about to switch off the lights when she suddenly heard a weak voice.
"Lisa…"
Lucy froze. She slowly turned around. Canary was still unconscious.
"I'm sorry…"
His words were barely audible. Lucy's eyes widened. Immediately, she understood.This was about Lisa.
Had they finally broken up?
She slowly returned to the bed and sat down beside him.
"Canary."
She gently touched his arm.
"Talk to me."
Canary's lips moved again.
"I had to break up with her…"
A tear escaped from the corner of his eye.
"But I love her so much…"
His breathing became shaky.
"My heart is breaking into pieces…"
Lucy's chest tightened. For a moment, she felt guilty seeing him in such pain.
She gently held his hand.
"Canary, this is your mother."
Her voice softened.
"I'm here for you."
Canary's eyes remained closed.
"Lisa…"
His voice weakened further.
"Lisa…"
The final word faded from his lips before he completely passed out again.
Lucy stared at him for several moments.
Then she pulled a blanket over him and carefully tucked him in.
"Sleep, my son."
She switched off the lights and quietly left the room.
Outside, Ketra was waiting for her. The moment Lucy stepped out, Ketra approached her.
"What could have gone wrong?"
Lucy sighed.
"I think it's about Lisa."
Ketra frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"He kept calling her name."
Lucy glanced back toward the closed bedroom door.
"He even said he broke up with her."
Realization crossed Ketra's face.
"Oh."
She looked down briefly.
"I think it must have been hard for him to break up with her."
Lucy crossed her arms.
"It's worth it."
Ketra remained silent. Lucy continued.
"We'll find a solution for this."
Ketra wanted to argue.
She wanted to tell Lucy that separating two people who genuinely loved each other could never be a solution.
But she knew how stubborn Lucy could be.
There was no point starting an argument now.
Instead, she simply nodded.
"Okay."
She sighed softly.
"Let's hope we find a better solution."
The two women stood silently in the hallway while, inside the dark room, Canary lay asleep, completely unaware of the conversation taking place outside his door.