The afternoon sun was beginning to dip lower, stretching long golden beams across the glass walls of the skating rink as Aria laced off her boots. Her legs ached pleasantly from the session—hours of drills, spins, and careful landings. She felt light, like each movement was a step closer to reclaiming the part of herself she thought she had lost forever.
She glanced at her reflection in the rink's window. Strands of hair had escaped her ponytail, cheeks flushed from the cold air and exertion. And yet, there was a quiet glow to her face. She smiled faintly. She wanted to share this feeling.
Without overthinking, she gathered her things and headed straight for Henry's office.
---
Henry's office sat on the twentieth floor of one of the city's most imposing glass towers. The kind of building that screamed power and wealth before one even stepped inside. But Aria had long since stopped being intimidated by the marble lobby or the security guards in pressed suits.
Still, as she pressed the elevator button and ascended, her stomach fluttered nervously. It wasn't the building. It was him.
The doors slid open with a soft chime. She stepped into the hallway, heels clicking against polished stone until she reached the familiar door engraved with his name.
A murmur of voices filtered through as she raised her hand to knock. She hesitated—Henry wasn't alone.
Before she could change her mind, she knocked lightly.
"Come in," came Henry's deep voice.
Aria pushed the door open, slipping inside. She had expected Henry at his desk, but what she hadn't expected was the tall man lounging casually on one of the leather chairs opposite him.
"Aria," Henry said, his expression softening immediately at the sight of her. He rose slightly from his chair. "What a surprise."
The other man turned—and grinned.
"Well, well, if it isn't the famous wife," Ronan Clarke said, his tone teasing. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement. "I was beginning to suspect Henry had made you up, like some mythical creature he kept hidden away. If I didn't see you at events I could believe that."
Aria blinked, caught off guard, then laughed. "I assure you I'm real."
"Debatable," Ronan said, rising smoothly to his feet and offering his hand.
Aria shook Ronan's hand, amused by his easy charm.
Aria chuckled, slipping into the empty chair beside Ronan. "So what are you two conspiring about?"
"Business," Henry said briskly.
"Boring," Ronan added at the exact same time, making Aria laugh.
The conversation flowed easily after that. Ronan had the kind of energy that filled a room, all quick wit and careless confidence. He poked fun at Henry with a brotherly ease, and to Aria's surprise, Henry allowed it—though not without a few sharp comebacks of his own.
"So, Aria," Ronan said after a while, propping his chin on his hand. "Tell me. How's life married to the most impossible man in London?"
Aria raised her brows, pretending to consider. "It has its challenges."
Ronan whooped with laughter, slapping his knee. "Oh, I like you already. Finally, someone brave enough to say it out loud."
Henry groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You two are going to be unbearable together."
"Don't worry, Henry," Ronan said, grinning wickedly. "I'll only tell her half of your secrets."
Aria leaned forward, eyes glinting. "Only half? Which half?"
"The embarrassing ones, of course."
"Ronan," Henry warned, his tone low.
But Ronan was already launching into a story. "Did you know Henry once tried to impress a girl at middle school by quoting poetry? Except he got so nervous he mixed up the lines and ended up comparing her eyes to… what was it again?" He snapped his fingers dramatically. "Ah yes. To a bowl of cabbage stew."
Aria choked on her laughter, covering her mouth. "Cabbage stew?"
Henry closed his eyes as though in pain. "It was one mistake."
"One mistake that haunts him to this day," Ronan said gleefully. "Honestly, Aria, you should've seen his face when the girl burst out laughing. Priceless."
Aria wiped at her eyes, still giggling. "I never thought I'd hear that about Henry."
Henry sighed, though his lips curved faintly. "I regret introducing you two already."
"Too late," Ronan said. "We're best friends now."
The banter continued. Aria found herself surprisingly comfortable, as though she'd known Ronan for years. He asked about her skating, and she explained her hopes of returning to competition. To her surprise, Ronan seemed genuinely interested.
"Impressive," he said. "You've got guts, going back after an injury like that. Most people would've quit for good."
"It's not easy," Aria admitted softly. "But it feels like part of me. I couldn't give it up forever."
Ronan studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Respect. No wonder Henry looks at you like that."
"Like what?" Aria asked curiously.
"Like you're the only person in the room."
Heat rose to her cheeks. She glanced at Henry instinctively, but he was studiously flipping through a file, jaw tight.
"Ronan," Henry said evenly. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Not at all," Ronan replied cheerfully. "I cleared my afternoon just to annoy you."
Aria laughed again, though she sensed Henry's patience thinning. Still, there was something oddly endearing about watching him navigate Ronan's relentless teasing.
After nearly an hour of chatter, Ronan stretched lazily, checking his watch. "All right, I should let you two have your alone time before Henry glares me into dust."
"Thank you," Henry muttered.
Ronan leaned down to kiss Aria's hand gallantly. "A pleasure, Mrs. Lannister. We'll see each other again soon, I hope. Don't let Henry scare you off with his brooding."
Aria smiled warmly. "I'll try not to."
With a final mischievous grin, Ronan sauntered out, leaving the office quieter in his absence.
Aria turned back to Henry, unable to hide her amusement. "He's… something."
"Insufferable," Henry corrected, though his eyes softened as they met hers. "But loyal."
"You looked embarrassed at the cabbage stew story," she teased gently.
Henry groaned again. "Remind me never to leave you alone with him. He'll tell you things I've spent years burying."
Aria laughed, her heart unexpectedly light. The room felt warmer now, the air humming with an unspoken closeness. She wanted to say something—thank him for letting her into this part of his life, perhaps—but before she could, the door opened.
A woman stepped inside, her heels clicking against the polished floor. She carried a stack of neatly bound files, her expression professional but her voice smooth.
"Mr. Lannister, I brought the documents you requested," she said.
Henry's head lifted. Aria turned as well, eyes landing on the woman. She knew that voice.
Clara.