The elevator chimed softly as Lyra stepped out into the quiet hallway. Warm light spilled from sconces along the pale gray walls, catching on the muted gold numbers of each door. At the far end, a tall figure waited—dark coat draped over shoulders, charcoal suit precise even at this late hour. Asher.
Her breath hitched. He stood with his hands in his pockets, the lines of his black coat and tailored suit making him look every bit the CEO he was, but his eyes softened the moment they met hers.
"Lyra." His voice was low, steady.
She quickened her pace until she reached him. Before a single word could leave her lips, he opened his arms, and she fell against him. The scent of crisp linen and faint cologne wrapped around her as he held her close. For a long while neither spoke. The weight she'd carried all day slowly bled away in his embrace.
When she finally drew back, he rested one palm on her shoulder. "Let's go inside," he said quietly.
