Thomas sent the message the next morning.
Can we meet. Just once. In person.
I read it three times before responding.
The city outside my window was bright, alive, moving forward without hesitation.
My past was asking me to pause.
I did not feel panic.
I felt curiosity.
Why now.
Why after the article.
Why after years of silence.
Adrian was already at the office when I arrived. The building buzzed with post publication momentum. Assistants moved quickly. Investors requested briefings. International partners wanted introductions.
And beneath all of it, a quiet thread of speculation about my personal life continued weaving itself through conversations.
I closed my office door and stared at the message again.
Can we meet.
Not accusatory.
Not desperate.
Direct.
I called him.
H
