This was Well's second day on the job, and it felt harder than the first.
He sat at his desk, staring blankly at the glowing computer screen. Project files were open, rows of data and timelines blurred before his eyes. His thoughts were jumbled, caught in the cold, sharp gaze he'd met yesterday.
He sighed, leaning back until his chair creaked. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her standing at the head of the boardroom, her voice filled with an authority that felt like a physical burden.
"Mr. Well?"
Farah's voice broke his reverie. Well fell silent, flickering as he looked up.
"Yes?" Farah gave him a small, sympathetic smile. "Mrs. Vivian wants you to meet her in her office. Now."
Well felt a cold shiver run down his spine. "Now?"
Farah nodded. "Now. She doesn't like being kept waiting." Well took a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding heart. He stood, his legs feeling heavy as lead. As he walked toward the corner office at the end of the long corridor, every step felt like he was heading for his own destruction. He reached the heavy door, paused to straighten his tie, and knocked softly.
"Come in." The voice was calm, firm, and completely unreadable.
Well pushed the door open and stepped inside. The office was spacious, but today, it felt intimate. Vivian was sitting behind her large desk, engrossed in her laptop. Her hair, which had been tied tightly yesterday, was now loose and dark around her shoulders.
The sight, so familiar yet so distant, made Well's breath catch in his throat. "Sit," he ordered, without looking up. His tone was shorter today, but the coldness of yesterday seemed to have softened a little.
Well pulled up a chair and sat down, holding his knees to keep his hands from shaking. Several minutes passed in agonizing silence before Vivian finally closed her laptop and looked him straight in the eye. "Have you reviewed the project audit I sent you yesterday?" she asked. Her tone was formal but firm.
"Yes," Well replied, her voice slightly hoarse. "There are a few areas that need to be optimized, but the core strategy is still workable. I've already started drafting a review." Vivian didn't answer right away. She just stared at him, her dark eyes scanning his face as if searching for something—a clue, a memory, or perhaps a crack in his resolve.
Then, she said something that broke the professional silence.
"You look tired, Well." Well frowned, surprised by the sudden change. "No, I'm fine."
Vivian leaned back in her leather chair and let out a long, tired sigh. "Don't lie to me. I know you better than anyone in this building." Well's heart was pounding. This wasn't a CEO talking to a manager." "She couldn't be my ex-wife," Well whispered to herself.
"Did you sleep last night?" Well fell silent. He looked down at his shoes before answering calmly, "Not enough."
Vivian sighed again, a disappointed longing sound. "It's the same. You always let work consume you." He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a porcelain cup. Steam rose from it, carrying an aroma that made Well's chest tighten. It was the aroma of the coffee his wife used to make. He pushed the cup slowly across the mahogany surface toward him.
"Drink this."
Wah stared at the cup. "For me?" "Yes," Vivian nodded, her gaze fixed on the steam. "You always drink your coffee black, without sugar, in the morning. I... I remember." "Huh, how did you know. "I used to be your ex-wife." The sentence felt like a slap in the chest. She didn't know whether to smile at the kindness or scream at the irony. She reached for the cup, and for a moment, her fingers touched it. The touch was brief, but it felt like an electric shock. Vivian flinched slightly, her cheeks a soft pink before she quickly pulled her hand away. The silence that followed was heavy with the weight of their shared history.
"Okay," he spoke again, his voice returning to its professional shield. "About work... I expect full commitment. I will not tolerate any personal burdens that affect this firm." Well nodded, sipping his bitter coffee. It tasted just as he liked it. "I understand, ma'am."
But as he moved to stand, Vivian stopped him with a word.
"And... about us." Well froze. The air in the room suddenly felt very thin.
Vivian looked at him, and this time, there was no ice in his eyes. There was only pain and something that looked like regret. "We can't go on like this," he whispered.
"Honey..." The nickname, spoken so softly, felt like a knife stabbing into his heart.
"Yesterday... I may have been too harsh. I'm sorry."
Well was completely shocked. Vivian Zhang had never apologized. Not to an employee, and rarely to her. "Are you... really apologizing?" Vivian looked away, her shadow framed by the city skyline. "I'm just… not used to this situation. Seeing you here, every day, after everything…"
Well let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. He gave her an awkward little smile. "Okay. Me too, I guess. It's weird for me too." For the first time since he'd entered the room, the tension eased. Vivian gave him a very thin, barely perceptible smile. It was the smile of the woman he'd married, the woman he'd laughed with until sunrise.
"Go to work first. We'll talk later," he said softly. Well nodded, standing to leave. But before he reached the door, he turned around one last time. Vivian had already glanced at her screen again, but the lines of tension on her face had faded. She was still smiling, just a little. She stepped back into the hallway, feeling a strange mixture of happiness and fear. A small spark of hope had lit up in her chest. Maybe he hadn't changed as much as she wanted him to think. Maybe there was still something left of 'them' hidden behind the CEO's cold exterior.
But he knew one thing for sure,today wasn't just another day at the office. It is the beginning of a war between his mind and his heart.Did a part of her still want to be his wife, or was this just another game she was playing?