It had been three days since the late-night meeting, and yet Shen Miao couldn't shake the way He Ran had looked at her — as if she was still the girl he'd left behind, and maybe… the woman he regretted not choosing.
But if her thoughts were conflicted, Lina's weren't.
> "Why are you letting the marketing manager lead instead of someone more seasoned?" Lina's voice echoed across the hallway into He Ran's glass-walled office.
> "Because Shen Miao is seasoned," He Ran replied calmly, eyes never leaving his laptop.
Lina gave a tight smile. "It just feels like personal feelings are clouding leadership decisions."
He met her eyes then, firm but cool. "I don't let personal feelings run my company. Only results."
Still, the seed of jealousy had been planted.
---
That afternoon, the team gathered to pitch their first round of campaign ideas to the French fashion collaborators via video call. Shen Miao presented her concept with clarity and confidence — a narrative-driven campaign focusing on timeless love and identity.
As the French rep nodded in approval, Lina interrupted with a smirk.
> "It's a bit soft, no? Shouldn't we go with something more bold and edgy to compete internationally?"
Shen Miao hesitated. For a moment, doubt crept in — until He Ran leaned forward.
> "We've done bold. This is fresh. It's emotional. And it's exactly what the French partner is looking for. Let's proceed with Shen Miao's direction."
A blush crept up her cheeks. Not because he supported her — but because he remembered. That this wasn't just her strategy. It was her.
Later that evening, Shen Miao stepped out onto the office balcony, escaping the cold tension inside. The air was cool, dusk painting the city in amber tones.
She heard footsteps behind her. He Ran.
> "You always come outside when you're overwhelmed," he said, smiling softly.
> "You remember that too?" she asked, leaning on the railing.
> "I remember more than you think."
—Flashback—: Seven Years Ago
The corridors were almost empty, save for the sound of rain against the windows. Shen Miao sat on the steps, hugging her knees, shivering slightly. Her friends had gone, and she'd forgotten her umbrella again.
He Ran appeared out of nowhere, his uniform jacket soaked.
> "You'll catch a cold like that," he said.
> "I'm fine," she mumbled.
He took off his own blazer and gently draped it over her shoulders.
> "Next time, bring an umbrella. Or just wait for me."
She looked up at him, surprised.
> "Wait for you?"
> "Yeah," he said quietly. "I wouldn't mind."
For a second, they both smiled. The kind of smile that didn't need words. The kind that could last forever.
Now, years later, they sat across from each other in a quiet conference room. Late again. Everyone had gone home. The lights outside the window flickered with city life.
Back on the balcony, Shen Miao blinked at the memory.
> "Do you remember the rain?" she asked softly. "You gave me your blazer."
> "It was either that or sit beside you and let you shiver," he said, chuckling.
> "You used to say things without meaning them."
He looked at her then, serious. "Not that day. And not now."
She swallowed. "Then why did you leave without saying goodbye properly?"
He was quiet for a moment.
> "Because I didn't want you to wait for me."
She turned to him, confused.
> "Why?"
> "Because I was scared you actually would."
The words hit her like wind — silent but strong. He was never indifferent. Just afraid. And so was she.
He Ran leaned back, breaking the stillness. "You know, I used to imagine seeing you like this — focused, leading. You were always meant to shine."
She blinked, caught off guard. "Then why didn't you say anything back then? Before you left?"
He hesitated, voice low. "Because I was scared. Of staying. Of losing myself. Of messing up what we had."
A soft laugh escaped her lips, bitter and fragile. "I waited. I waited for you to turn back at the airport. Just once."
But before she could answer, the office door burst open. Lina appeared, holding two coffee cups, her eyes narrowing slightly.
> "I thought you might need a break," she said, handing one to He Ran, completely ignoring Shen Miao.
> "Actually, this is hers," he said simply, offering the coffee to Shen Miao instead. "I don't drink mocha."
Shen Miao took it, hands brushing briefly. And Lina, with a stiff smile, disappeared.
Back at her desk, Shen Miao stared at her coffee, heart racing. Somewhere between rainy school benches and corporate balconies, she was starting to fall all over again.
But this time, she didn't know if she was ready.