Everything Except Forever

Rain always made Sophia remember her mother. Not because of warmth or comfort. Because of shouting. The sound of heavy rain against the windows still reminded her of ceramic plates breaking against the kitchen wall, her mother crying in Mandarin under her breath, and her father slamming the front door hard enough to shake the entire unit. Sophia tightened her grip around her coffee cup and stared out the thirty-second-floor office window overlooking the city. Jakarta glittered beautifully at night. Cold. Expensive. Untouchable. Just like the life she built for herself. “Ms. Lin?” Sophia looked away from the rain. Her assistant stood hesitantly near the door, holding a tablet against her chest. “The investors from Singapore moved tomorrow’s meeting to tonight. Seven-thirty.” “Fine.” “They also requested the revised numbers.” “They’ll have them in twenty minutes.” The assistant nodded quickly and disappeared. Sophia exhaled slowly once the door shut. Twenty minutes. She glanced at the untouched pasta growing cold beside her laptop. Dinner again, sacrificed to work. Not that she minded. Work never disappointed her. Numbers made sense. Effort created results. Independence created safety. Love created damage. Her phone vibrated against the desk. Mom. Sophia stared at the screen for a moment before answering. “Hello.” “Sophia…” her mother’s voice came softly, carefully, the way people spoke when they already felt guilty before asking for something. “Are you busy?” “Yes.” A pause. “Did you eat?” “No.” “You should eat regularly. Your stomach—” “What happened?” Another pause. Sophia closed her eyes briefly. There it was. Her mother never called just to talk. “The rent increased again this month,” her mother said quietly. “Only a little. And the electricity bill…” Sophia leaned back in her chair. “How much?” “I’m sorry.” “How much, Mom?” Her mother mentioned the amount quickly, almost too embarrassed to say it clearly. Sophia transferred the money before the call even ended. “You should keep some savings for yourself,” Sophia said flatly. “I know.” But they both knew she wouldn’t. Not after spending twenty-eight years depending on a man who only came home when it was convenient. Sophia’s jaw tightened unconsciously. Last month, her father had introduced another daughter during Lunar New Year dinner. Twenty years old. Bright smile. Same eyes. Sophia remembered the silence that followed after the girl left the table. Her mother had smiled through dinner anyway, pretending humiliation was something a woman could swallow politely. That night, Sophia went home and worked until four in the morning. Because she would rather die exhausted than ever become that kind of woman. Dependent. Disposable. “Thank you, Sophia,” her mother whispered. Sophia swallowed the bitterness rising in her throat. “Don’t thank me.” After ending the call, she stared at her own reflection in the dark office window. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. Perfect control. People called her intimidating. Cold. Difficult. She preferred efficient. Emotions complicated things. Attachment weakened people. Needing someone gave them power to destroy you. She learned that lesson before she was even old enough to understand marriage. A knock interrupted her thoughts. “Come in.” The door opened again. “Ms. Lin,” her assistant said nervously, “there’s a problem downstairs.” Sophia frowned. “What problem?” “The café on the first floor had a pipe burst. Some guests from the investor group are waiting in the lobby temporarily.” “And?” “One of them is refusing to leave the reception desk until he speaks with whoever manages this building.” Sophia sighed, already irritated. “This is an office tower, not a hotel.” “I tried explaining that.” “Clearly not well enough.” She grabbed her blazer from the chair and headed toward the elevator. The lobby was crowded when she arrived. Employees whispered near the reception desk while hotel staff hurried across the marble floors carrying towels and caution signs. And standing directly in the middle of the chaos was a man arguing calmly enough to somehow make everyone else look dramatic. Tall. Dark charcoal shirt with the sleeves rolled neatly past his wrists, rain still clinging lightly to the fabric. A loosened tie hung at his collar beneath a tailored black blazer. One hand rested casually in his pocket. The other resting casually against the reception counter. He looked up the moment she approached. Sophia stopped briefly. Annoyingly handsome. Not in the polished socialite way she usually saw at corporate events. There was something rougher about him. Sharp eyes. Tired expression. Sleeves rolled slightly past his wrists like he’d stopped caring halfway through the day. Dangerous face. The kind women made mistakes over. “Sir,” Sophia said coolly, “you’re holding up my lobby.” His eyebrow lifted slightly. “My lobby?” “This building belongs to my company.” “Ah.” His gaze moved over her briefly. “So you’re the terrifying Ms. Lin everyone’s afraid of.” The receptionist nearly choked. Sophia’s expression didn’t change. “And you are?” “Adrian Reyes.” His voice was calm. Deep. Annoyingly steady. “I’m trying to understand why a luxury building can’t handle basic maintenance.” Sophia crossed her arms. “And I’m trying to understand why a grown man is harassing receptionists over plumbing.” For a second, silence hung between them. Then unexpectedly— He laughed. Not mockingly. Actually laughed. Sophia blinked once, caught off guard by how warm it sounded. “You always this hostile?” he asked. “You always this entitled?” “Only on weekdays.” The receptionist looked seconds away from fainting. Sophia should have walked away. Instead, for reasons she couldn’t explain, she stayed. Maybe because he didn’t look intimidated by her. Most men either challenged her ego or shrank beneath it. Adrian did neither. He simply looked at her directly, like she was a person instead of a competition. And somehow that irritated her more. “The issue will be resolved shortly,” Sophia said. “You can wait upstairs in the executive lounge.” “I don’t like lounges.” “I wasn’t asking.” Sophia pulled a business card from her blazer pocket and placed it on the reception counter. “If your group requires further assistance, contact my office directly.” Adrian picked up the card, glancing at it briefly. “Sophia Lin,” he said softly. “Now the terrifying reputation has a name.” “And now you have a phone number for complaints,” she replied coldly. Another small smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. God. Arrogant. Interesting. Dangerous combination. As Sophia turned to leave, Adrian spoke again. “You skipped dinner.” She stopped. Slowly looked back. “What?” “You’ve been drinking coffee for hours instead of eating.” He nodded toward the slight tremor in her hand holding the phone. “You should probably fix that before your body forces you to.” Sophia stared at him. Strangers weren’t supposed to notice things like that. Especially not her. Especially not that quickly. “I don’t remember asking for health advice.” “And I don’t remember caring whether you asked.” For the first time in a long while, Sophia felt something unfamiliar c***k lightly through the walls she built so carefully around herself. Not attraction. Not yet. Something worse. Curiosity.