Noted with Reservations

CHAPTER 7: Thermal Expansion

The next day began with a tension that didn't come from a deadline, but from the silence left inside the car last night.

When I entered Studio B, I saw Waeren staring seriously at his monitor. He didn't even look up when I placed his coffee on the table.

"We have the presentation with the client later," he began, his voice back to being cold and professional.

"Make sure the boards are mounted properly. No bubbles, no crooked edges."

"Wow, not even a 'good morning'?" I whispered while opening the double-sided tape.

"It's fine, Waeren. Just relax, you're too stiff."

"I'm not stiff, Cruz. I'm focused. There's a difference."

As I worked on the boards, I couldn't help but notice his every move. Something had changed. He wasn't scolding me for every little thing anymore; instead, he was just quietly observing.

Suddenly, the door opened and Celine walked in, carrying a set of snacks.

"Waeren, I brought some pastries. So you'll have energy before the presentation."

She looked at me and gave a thin smile—the kind that stays on the lips but doesn't reach the eyes.

"Xyloise, right? Still helping with the manual labor? I guess we all have our roles to play."

"Yes, Celine. 'Labor' actually feels good when you see your vision coming to life, instead of it just being a drawing," I replied without looking at her.

I saw the corner of Waeren’s lip lift slightly while he fixed the portfolio.

"Celine, thank you for the food, but we're almost done. Cruz and I need to head out to the site."

"We?" Celine asked, her voice rising an octave.

"You're bringing her to the client meeting? Waeren, it’s a high-profile project. She might not be... prepared."

Waeren stood up and grabbed his bag.

"She's my assistant, Celine. She knows the landscaping details better than anyone else. She's coming."

Inside the car on the way to the site, I couldn't sit still.

"Why did you do that? Your parents might get mad if they find out you're bringing a first-year in front of a client."

He faced me while at a stoplight.

"I told you, Cruz. You're the one who added the home feel to that model. Architecture is useless if it's just a shell. Let them see what you see."

In the middle of the meeting, while Waeren was explaining the structural framing, the client had a specific question about the mood of the garden. I saw Waeren pause for a moment before turning to me.

"My assistant, Miss Cruz, handled the organic integration of the site. She can explain the vision for the space," he said, giving me the floor.

My voice was shaking at first, but when I saw him give a small nod, my nervousness vanished. I spoke about the messy beauty of nature, about how a home should breathe with its surroundings. Blunt, real, and raw—exactly how I always am.

After the meeting, the client shook our hands.

"Impressive work, Architect. And the landscaping... it’s a breath of fresh air."

When we got back to the parking lot, I couldn't stop myself from jumping for joy.

"Waeren! Did you see that? They liked it!"

"I saw it," he said, leaning against his car door.

"You did well, Xy."

"What do you mean 'you did well'? We did well!" I approached him and, in my excitement, quickly gave him a hug.

He froze for a moment, his body turning stiff as concrete. But before I could pull away, I felt his hand slowly rest on my shoulder.

"Okay, okay. Calm down, Cruz. You're getting your ink stains on my shirt again."

I pulled away, my face as red as his red-line pen.

"Sorry. I just got carried away."

"It's fine," he said, turning away to hide the small smile playing on his lips.

"But since we did well, I guess we can have dinner. Not goto this time. My treat."

As we headed to the restaurant, I realized that the walls he built didn't need to be torn down all at once. Small cracks were enough for the light to get in.

And tonight, the "calculation error" and the "perfect blueprint" finally found the right balance.