apartment was dark when they got home, the city lights glittering through the windows like cold stars.
Wanyin kicked off her heels in the entryway, walked straight to the balcony, and gripped the railing. The wind was sharp tonight, cutting through her blouse, but she welcomed it. Anything to feel something other than the raw ache Chen Hao had ripped open.
Ye Beichen followed, silent. He didn't touch her. Just stood beside her, hands in his pockets, giving her space.
She stared at the skyline.
"I was twenty-five," she said finally, voice low. "Fresh out of grad school. Full of ideas. Full of… trust."
He didn't speak.
"I met him at a startup incubator. He was charming. Brilliant. Said all the right things. I showed him my code because I thought we were building something together. A future. Not just a company."
She laughed, the sound brittle.
"Three months later, he filed the patents in his name. Told me I was too emotional to lead. That I should be grateful he was 'handling the business side.' When I fought him, he said no one would believe me. A woman with no connections against him—family money, investors already lined up."
She turned to him then.
"I had nothing. No proof strong enough. No money for lawyers. I lost everything. The idea. The company. My confidence."
Her voice cracked on the last word.
"I swore I'd never be that naive again. Never let anyone close enough to take from me."
Ye Beichen's eyes were steady on hers.
"And then you came along," she whispered. "With your program. Your rules. Your… remembering."
He stepped closer.
"I'm not him."
"I know."
"Do you?"
She looked away.
"I want to. But every time I let myself…"
She stopped.
He reached out, slow, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"I waited three years for this, Wanyin. Not to take from you. To give you something back."
She met his gaze.
"What?"
"The knowledge that someone sees you. All of you. The brilliant, ruthless director. And the woman who built herself from nothing after someone tried to break her."
Her throat tightened.
"I don't know how to be that woman anymore."
"You don't have to be her alone."
He took her hand.
She didn't pull away.
They stood there, wind whipping around them, city far below.
Twenty days left.
She leaned her head against his shoulder.
Just for a moment.
And for the first time in years, the weight felt a little lighter.
Because he was carrying some of it.