The morning light felt judgmental. Sharon woke up late, her head throbbing with a dull ache that had less to do with champagne and everything to do with the unsigned contract lying on her coffee table like a sleeping snake.
She had stared at it for hours last night, the pen feeling less like a tool and more like a weapon aimed at her own heart.
Every logical part of her told her to sign it, it offered power, security, and revenge in one legal package.
But something deeper and more stubborn wouldn't let her hand move.
The silence in her apartment was suffocating. She needed to talk to Sasha, to hear her friend's strong conviction that this was the right choice.
But Sasha's room was empty, her bed neatly made. Sharon called her phone, and it went straight to voicemail.
A sharp, cold worry pricked her. This was strange.
Sasha always told her where she was going, especially after a big night.
The silence felt like abandonment, leaving Sharon alone with the noise in her own mind.
And through that noise, one thought grew louder and more persistent, a dangerous idea she couldn't ignore: "See him. Just see him one more time."
It was a terrible, self-destructive idea. It was stepping backward into a fire she had just escaped.
But she felt a physical, aching need to go, a burning curiosity to see his face.
Was he really as fine as the business reports claimed? Was there any trace left of the man who had begged her in the rain?
Or had he truly become the impersonal client who had dismissed her so easily?
Before she could change her mind, she was already getting dressed, her hands moving without conscious thought.
Walking into the lobby of Hayashi Tech felt like stepping into a dream, or a memory.
The familiar cool marble, the soft sound of the air conditioning, the specific way sound echoed in the huge room, she knew it all so well.
It was a place that had once been a second home, and now it felt like a museum of her past life.
"Sharon! Oh my god, it's so good to see you!" a friendly marketing manager named Amanda called out, waving.
Sharon forced a brittle smile. "Hi, Amanda! Just picking up some old things," she lied, the words tasting bad.
She moved toward the elevators, her heart pounding faster and faster.
This was really happening. She rode the elevator up, the numbers lighting up one by one, each one a countdown to a moment she couldn't define.
The elevator doors opened onto the executive floor.
She stepped out, her eyes instantly looked toward the desk that had been hers for years.
And she froze. The desk was not empty. It was occupied.
A young man, probably a few years younger than her, professional-looking and wearing a perfect suit, was typing rapidly on a computer with two monitors.
His workspace was neat and organized. He looked permanent.
The air left her lungs in a quiet whoosh. He replaced me.
The young man looked up with a polite, questioning look. "Can I help you?"
"I… I'm here to see Mr. Hayashi," she managed, her voice sounding weak.
"Do you have an appointment?"
"No. It's… a personal matter. My name is Sharon Lee."
Recognition crossed his eyes, quickly replaced by a neutral expression.
"One moment, Ms. Lee." He picked up the phone, speaking in low, respectful tones she couldn't quite hear.
He was good. He was everything a CEO like Kenzo would need.
He hung up. "You can go in."
She walked to the familiar door, her legs feeling stiff, and pushed it open.
Kenzo stood by his desk, not behind it, already up to greet her.
He wore the same calm, impersonal smile he had during their final meeting.
"Ms. Lee," he said, his voice smooth and neutral. "This is a surprise."
Hearing him call her "Ms. Lee" in this room that held so many whispered "Sharon"s felt like a slap.
She was just an unexpected visitor now.
"Mr. Hayashi," she breathed, her mind completely blank. Why had she come? She had no reason.
"I… I was in the neighborhood." The excuse was pathetic.
"I think I might have left a… a personal item here. A small hair clip. Silly, I know."
His expression didn't change. "I haven't seen anything, but I can have Basil out here take a look for you."
Basil. So that was the replacement's name.
"No, that's... that's fine. It wasn't important." Her words spilled out, sounding foolish and weak.
She couldn't be angry about Basil . She had been the one to leave and demand this distance.
Yet, a hot, sharp jealousy burned in her stomach. She felt like a ghost visiting her old life, unable to touch anything.
"The system is running well?" she asked, desperately trying to sound professional.
"Flawlessly," he said, the word a final, gentle nail in her coffin. "We're very pleased."
There was a beat of agonizing silence. She had overstayed her welcome. There was nothing left to say.
"Well. I won't take up any more of your time," she said, taking a step back.
"Of course. It was good to see you," he replied, the polite words were so empty they echoed in the room.
She quickly turned and practically ran, closing the door behind her. She barely noticed Basil's polite nod as she hurried past, her eyes blurring. She had to get out immediately.
"Sharon? Hey!"
A hand gently touched her arm. She spun around, her heart in her throat. It was Leticia, from the IT department. Her friendly, open face was a relief.
"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," Leticia said, worried
"I'm fine, just… a little dizzy," Sharon lied, forcing a shaky smile.
"We all miss you around here," She said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "It's not the same."
Sharon's eyes glanced toward Kenzo's door. "I see… he didn't waste any time."
"Oh, Basil?" Leticia followed her gaze. "Yeah, he started a couple of weeks ago. Kenzo supposedly paid a huge amount to steal him from a big European firm. And get this," she leaned in closer,
"the guy's a tech genius. He found some weird, deeply hidden bug in the patent system right after he started. Fixed it in like, an hour. Kenzo was apparently furious it was there in the first place."
The floor seemed to drop out from under Sharon. He found it. He fixed it.
Her lifeline, her secret, desperate cry for attention, had been found and neutralized by her replacement. The humiliation was complete.
"Since you left, though," Leticia continued, her voice dropping to a whisper, "the boss has been… different. I mean, he was always intense, but now he's just mean, all the time. No one has seen him smile. It's like all the light left his office when you did."
These words hurt Sharon, but they also felt like a painful confirmation. She felt both justified and profoundly sad.
"I need to go," Leticia said, looking nervously down the hall. "He's been very strict about people talking. Good to see you, Sharon."
Leticia hurried off. Sharon stood there for a moment, stunned, before stumbling toward the elevator, down through the lobby, and out into the blinding daylight.
She didn't make it far. She found a quiet park a block away and collapsed onto a bench.
The control she held inside finally broke. Silent, helpless sobs shook her body, and hot, ashamed tears ran down her face.
He knew. He knew about the bug. He must have known she was the one who planted it. What did he think of her?
A pathetic, scheming woman trying to hold onto a life that had already moved on. And it had, with a new, brilliant assistant and a perfect system.
You see? a voice that sounded like Sasha's hissed in her mind.
He doesn't care. He replaced you instantly. He fixed your little problem and moved on.
But Leticia's voice echoed just as loudly. It's like all the light went out.
She was trapped in a storm of her own making, with no idea which way was shore.
Who was to blame? Her, for her pride and her desperate games? Or him, for his own pride, for letting her walk away?
Behind the closed door of his office, Kenzo stood where she had left him. The polite, professional mask he wore for her immediately vanished, leaving behind a face showing pure agony.
He slowly walked to the window, his shoulders heavy as if carrying a tremendous weight.
She came back.
Her awkward excuse and nervous eyes meant she had no real reason to be there.
And then he remembered the bug. Basil found that clever, hidden code. It was an elegant flaw that only a master could have written. Only her.
Everything suddenly made sense, but the clarity was crushing.
She planted it. She created a reason to come back. That's why she was here today.
A storm of conflict raged within him. A part of him, the part that still loved her desperately, screamed in triumph. She wanted a reason to see me! She's not over it! She's not over us!
But another part, the part she had wounded so deeply, fought back with cold logic.
But I begged her to stay! I offered her everything, my heart, my company, my pride! She threw it all back in my face. She wanted a professional relationship. She wanted to be paid. What was I supposed to do? Chase her forever? Humiliate myself completely?
He had let her go because he thought it was what she truly wanted. He had given her the freedom she demanded, at the cost of his own happiness.
And now, her desperate, clumsy attempt to return left him more confused and broken than before.
They were two lost satellites, orbiting the same empty space, both wanted a connection, but they were too proud, too hurt, and too scared to reach out and hold onto it.