The clock on the wall ticked lazily toward 6:30 p.m. Lillian rubbed her eyes for the hundredth time that day. Her head throbbed, and her hands trembled slightly from fatigue. She had been at her desk for hours, checking logs and reviewing simulations, but the long night from yesterday still clung to her like a shadow.
She was about to stretch when a sharp voice interrupted her thoughts.
"I'm finishing for the day," Sebastian said, walking past her desk.
Lillian froze. "You… you're leaving early?" Her voice sounded too high, too incredulous. "Since when do you ever leave early?"
He didn't look at her. Blue eyes fixed straight ahead, jaw tight. "Today's different. You should leave too. You look like you're about to collapse."
"I—wait, what? Why?" she asked, her eyebrows knitting together.
He finally glanced at her, sharp and cold. "I'm going to visit my father in the hospital. You? Go home. You need rest."
Lillian blinked, utterly confused. He's never left early. He doesn't send anyone home early. He—he's joking, right?
"I… okay, I guess," she muttered, quickly packing her bag. This doesn't make sense. Not at all.
Sebastian gave her a curt nod. "Move quickly." Then he strode away, leaving her still staring after him, a strange mix of relief and puzzlement twisting her stomach.
A few minutes later, Lillian and Chloe were seated in a small café a block from the office. The café was warm, cozy, and smelled like roasted coffee beans. Lillian still wore the same slightly wrinkled clothes from yesterday, the ones she had never changed out of after working through the night.
Chloe leaned across the table, eyes narrowing. "Okay… spill. Why were you crying earlier?"
Lillian's hands wrapped tightly around her coffee cup. She hesitated, swallowing hard. "It's… Ethan. He… cheated on me." Her voice broke slightly. "Last night."
Chloe's jaw dropped. "What? He… what?" She leaned back, scandalized. "Lillian! That little—ugh, I knew something felt off."
"I… I just didn't see it coming," Lillian said quietly, staring down at the table. "I was always at work. I thought he understood. I thought… I was enough."
Chloe reached out, placing her hand over Lillian's. "You're more than enough. And he's an idiot. Honestly, what did you expect?"
Lillian gave a short laugh that barely reached her eyes. "Yeah… right."
Chloe sipped her coffee, then leaned closer. "Okay, now tell me something else. How is Sebastian Wolfe being—."
"Don't even get me started," Lillian snapped, her tone half-laughing, half-frustrated. "Cold. Rude. Impossible. And then, out of nowhere… a box of tissues appears on my desk! A box of tissues! What is that about?!"
Chloe blinked, trying not to laugh. "Well… he's Sebastian Wolfe. He's… complicated. Maybe that's his version of caring?"
Lillian groaned and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her face. "Complicated? I mean… he yells, critiques everything, makes me feel like I'm failing constantly, and now he's… being… thoughtful? Sort of? I don't get it!"
Unbeknownst to them, a figure sat just a few tables behind. Blue eyes scanned them carefully, hidden behind a cup of coffee. Sebastian Wolfe.
He had lied about visiting his father. In reality, he had grabbed a quick snack, planning to return to the office. And now, without making a sound, he could hear everything. Every confession, every frustration.
Ethan. He heard the name and frowned, recognizing it immediately. A delivery driver at Sovereign. A man who dared to betray someone he barely acknowledged. His jaw tightened.
Then, Lillian's words about him — about Sebastian — reached his ears.
"Cold, rude, impossible… box of tissues," she said, voice exasperated. "I don't get it!"
Sebastian's hands clenched around the coffee cup. Damn it.
He wanted to stand up and defend himself. He wanted to explain that his childhood, his father, the company… everything made him this way. That he didn't know how to be gentle, how to comfort someone, how to… care openly.
But he couldn't.
He remained silent.
Lillian continued, voice softer now. "I just… I don't know what to make of him. One second he's yelling, criticizing, making me feel like I'm nothing… and then… a box of tissues? Who does that?"
Chloe reached across, squeezing her hand. "Maybe… maybe he's human. Maybe there's more behind the walls."
Lillian snorted. "Walls? He's a fortress. A cold, impossible fortress. And somehow… I keep thinking about him."
Sebastian's hands trembled slightly on the coffee cup. He didn't want her to know he was here. He didn't want anyone to know he could care this much. And yet… he couldn't help the surge of frustration boiling inside him.
Why do I care? Why does this bother me so much?
He stood abruptly. The chair scraped against the floor. Chloe glanced up, catching a glimpse of the tall, black-suited man leaving, his expression unreadable but intense. She didn't say anything. Lillian didn't notice.
Sebastian walked out of the café, muttering under his breath. Damn it. I can't change who I am. I can't be…
Back inside, Lillian leaned back, rubbing her eyes. "I can't believe Ethan. And… Sebastian. I don't get him at all."
Chloe nodded, sipping her coffee. "Yeah… he's frustrating. But… you might be noticing the things he doesn't say. That he does."
Lillian frowned. "I… maybe. But I'm not sure I like that it confuses me so much."
Chloe gave her a small smile. "That's the thing about him. You never know. And somehow… you keep thinking about it anyway."
Lillian shook her head, a mix of exhaustion and frustration tugging at her. She wanted answers, clarity. But she knew she wouldn't get them — not from Sebastian.
And yet… somewhere deep down, she felt that he was watching, listening, noticing more than he ever admitted.
Outside, Sebastian Wolfe's mind raced as he walked back toward Sovereign. Anger, frustration, guilt — all twisted inside him. He hated that he was this way. He hated that he couldn't just comfort her, that he had to remain cold, sharp, untouchable.
But he also hated that he couldn't stop noticing her. Every detail, every tear, every word.
He clenched his fists. Damn it. This isn't fair.
He didn't turn back. He didn't glance at the café. He didn't let her see that he cared.
Not yet.