The Man I Was Meant To Forget

Aliana Vale had always believed that some mistakes were better left unnamed. Tonight, she was about to make one. Rain hammered against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the hotel lounge, turning the city beyond them into a blur of silver lights. Aliana sat alone at the bar, staring at the untouched glass in front of her. She wasn't supposed to be here. She wasn't supposed to be drinking. And most importantly, she wasn't supposed to be thinking about the man who had ruined her entire evening. Her phone buzzed again. Maya: Please tell me you're not still thinking about him. Aliana rolled her eyes. Aliana: I'm not. Three dots appeared immediately. Maya: Liar. Aliana locked her phone. She had spent the last two hours trying to convince herself that she was fine. She wasn't. It had been a terrible day. Her landlord had increased her rent. Her job interview had gone badly. And then she'd received the email she'd been dreading for weeks. Application unsuccessful. After months of searching for something better, she was right back where she started. Things seemed not to be going in her favor.. She became Tired. Frustrated. Angry. Depressed.. And tonight, she simply wanted to forget. She reached for her glass. "Bad day?" The unfamiliar male voice made her pause. Aliana turned. The man standing beside her looked completely out of place in the crowded lounge. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Impossibly composed. His black suit was expensive enough to make Aliana afraid to guess the price. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his expression carried the kind of confidence that suggested the entire world usually moved according to his wishes. His eyes met hers. For a moment, neither spoke. "I'm fine," Aliana said. He glanced at the untouched drink. "That doesn't look like fine." She almost laughed. "Do you always carry out observations on strangers?" "Only interesting ones." Aliana raised an eyebrow. "You're confident." "I've been told." "Arrogant, more like." A faint smile appeared on his lips. "That too." Something about him irritated her. Something else made her curious. And Aliana hated both feelings. "Do you have a name?" he asked. She hesitated. "Why?" "So I know what to call you." "You don't need to call me anything." He smiled again. "Then I'll have to come up with something." She should have walked away. Instead, she stayed. They talked. At first, it was meaningless conversation. Then somehow it wasn't. She told him things she normally wouldn't tell strangers. Not everything, but enough. He listened. Really listened. He didn't interrupt. Didn't judge. Didn't offer those irritating motivational speeches people gave when they didn't know how to handle someone else's problems. For the first time that day, Aliana felt like she could breathe. She never learned much about him. He was deliberately vague about his life. When she asked what he did, he simply said, "Business." "What kind?" "The kind that keeps me busy." "Very mysterious." "I could say the same about you." Aliana smiled despite herself. Hours passed without her noticing. Eventually, the lounge began to empty. The rain continued outside. The stranger looked at her. "You should go home." "I know." But neither of them moved. Aliana knew she was standing at the edge of something she didn't understand. She also knew she should step away. Instead, she made the decision she would spend the next several months trying to forget. One decision. One night. One stranger. And then morning came. Aliana woke to pale sunlight spilling through unfamiliar curtains. For several seconds, she didn't move. Then she sat upright. Her heart dropped. This wasn't her apartment. She looked around the luxurious room, trying to piece together the fragments of the previous night. The hotel. The rain. The conversation. Him. Her cheeks burned. "No. No, no, no." She hurried out of bed and grabbed her clothes. The room was silent. The stranger was nowhere in sight. On the bedside table sat a glass of water and a small black card. Elena picked it up. There was only a name printed on it. VINCENT CROSS Nothing else. No phone number. No explanation. Just a name. She stared at it. "Who are you?" She shoved the card into her bag. She didn't want to know. Whatever had happened last night, it was over. She would go home. Forget him. Forget the hotel. Forget everything. At least, that was what she told herself. Three weeks later. "Aliana!!" She nearly dropped her coffee. Her new colleague rushed toward her with a stack of files. "The CEO is coming." Alaina frowned "So?" Her colleague stared at her. "You don't understand. Vincent Cross is personally coming to this floor." The coffee cup froze halfway to Aliana's lips. Something about the name made her stomach tighten. Adrian. She shook the feeling away. There were probably hundreds of men named Vincent Cross. It couldn't be— The elevator doors opened. The entire office went silent. A tall man stepped out. Black suit. Cold expression. Confident stride. Aliana's breath caught. The cup slipped from her hand. It hit the floor. Coffee splashed across the tiles. But she barely noticed. Because the man walking toward her was the same man from that night. Vincent Cross. Their eyes met. His expression didn't change. But something flashed in his eyes. Recognition. Aliana couldn''t breathe. He stopped directly in front of her. For a moment, the entire office disappeared. Then Vincent looked down at the coffee scattered across the floor. He slowly lifted his gaze back to hers. And quietly said, "We need to talk about what happened three weeks ago."