He kept himself composed even as his echoing footsteps sent tremors down his spine, fisting his hands.
The room he was searching for swiftly appeared. He halted instantly, and without a second thought pushed the double doors open. At that moment, he wasn't thinking about the danger. There was only an old ache sinking deep into his chest. This was his only chance to have what he so desperately wanted.
A large suite illuminated with a dim, red ceiling light emerged before him.
Was she really there?
He clenched his jaw, his heart thumping as his eyes scanned the massive hotel room, hoping to spot her. On his left, his gaze locked. A woman was sitting at the edge of the bed. His heartbeat dropped. His breath fluttered, and his chest sank even further, the ache stinging with renewed force.
He could only make out a dark figure with heavy curls, wearing a fitted skirt and a shirt. Could it really be her? He needed to be sure. He didn't want to celebrate too soon only to have his hopes shattered. So he remained still, watching the woman stand with that familiar, commanding demeanor.
It exhilarated him, urging him to believe it was her. Yet he held back, watching as she stepped toward him. He resisted trusting even the recognizable silhouette of her movements and the distinct click of her heels—a sound he heard outside his office every single day. He just waited with bated breath.
Swiftly, she halted before him, her face finally illuminated under the radiance of a wall lamp in the corridor behind him. His heart sank and his breath hitched.
It was really her.
"I want to leave," she said, her voice like a cold whip.
He flinched, the ringing in his head coming to a sudden stop. "What?"
"I said, I want to leave."
He felt a sudden pang of betrayal, the ache expanding wildly in his chest. He stood helpless before her, stripped of the formidable front he presented to the rest of the world. He could never bring himself to oppose her—if only his desire hadn't grown so overwhelming.
"Even here..." He clenched his fists and jaw, taking a deep breath to compose himself. "Even here, you want to leave me."
The bitterness of her pulling away, even in this place, was almost too much to accept. He had thought that this time—finally—she would be his. But the universe seemed determined to play with him once more.
"What are you talking about?" She seemed confused, her eyebrows knitting together.
"Why do you never want to be with me?" His voice was as cold as ice, his eyes dark and flat. Taking a step closer, he stared into her eyes and closed the door behind him. He couldn't bear the pain any longer: wanting her, needing her, and seeing her just out of reach.
Her eyes followed the door as he turned the red ceiling lights to full radiance, but she didn't budge an inch. She stood her ground, as fiery and unyielding as ever.
Oh, the woman she was.
"What are you doing?" she demanded, her eyes turning as cold as his.
"I'm not letting you go today. You... you'll have to listen to me today." He stepped toward her while she stepped backward, never losing her composure.
"I've heard enough," she replied firmly.
"What have you heard?" He halted as she backed up against the large glass window.
"Are you playing with me?" She was fuming, making his heart race. "You'll receive my resignation tomorrow."
He breathed heavily, his jaw tight. "What have I done so wrong that you want to escape me this badly?" he demanded.
Her eyes turned even colder, sending his pulse spiking. "Are you kidding me? You confessed, and then you locked me in here. What more do you intend to do?"
His clenched jaw loosened in an instant, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"You told me you love me, and then, without letting me say a word, you walked out! Now you come back hours later to give me this?"
It sounded like something he might do in a moment of panic, but he hadn't. Slowly, the reality settled in—a manifestation of his own overwhelming desires and fears. A wave of guilt washed over him. How could he have driven her to this edge, even in his mind?
"What did you want to say?" he asked, praying she would say the very thing he was dying to hear.
"It doesn't matter now." She pushed him back against the chest. "You've shown me who you are."
There was a flicker of tenderness in her eyes, contrasted by the bitterness in her tone.
"Please..." His chest heaved with quiet urgency, his eyes dropping to the floor. "I apologize. I... I freaked out. I wasn't thinking straight. You can punish me for acting like this. But please, tell me what you wanted to say."
She remained silent. He lifted his head to look at her; her brows were furrowed, looking as though she were lost in deep thought, staring blankly at him as if processing the moment.
Then she asked softly, "Why did you lock me in and leave?"
He searched his heart for the real answer, his voice barely a whisper. "Because I was overwhelmed by my own feelings. I didn't let you speak because I was terrified to hear you say you felt nothing for me. I locked the door because I couldn't bear the thought of watching you walk away."
It hurt to confess those raw fears he had harbored for so long.
"I have loved you from the moment I saw you. I knew you were the only one for me... the only one who could truly understand me and hold my heart." He couldn't hold his emotions back any longer, every word tearing through his throat.
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the cold glass window right beside her neck. "I love you so much that it hurts. I want to devote myself to you completely."
Tears began to spill from his eyes, falling against her neck. She pulled his face back to meet her gaze, her expression softened with concern.
"Please, believe me," he begged, his voice trembling. "I love you. I have for so many years."
He needed her to believe him, to accept him, and to finally put an end to the ache in his chest.