They used to be rivals once—third year of high school, constantly trying to outscore, out-speak, outshine each other. Teachers called it “healthy competition,” but everyone else could see the sparks. By second year of college, that rivalry had turned into something softer—late-night study sessions, secret dates, whispered promises. A quiet, hidden relationship they protected like treasure.

But his world was different. He came from a legacy—wealth, reputation, a family name printed on company buildings. And when his parents found out, they didn’t hesitate. They called her unfit, too poor, not good enough for the future CEO. They demanded he end it for the sake of the company, the image, the headlines.

He refused. He fought. But she ended it first.

She didn’t want him losing everything, being dragged down with her, becoming the family disappointment. She loved him enough to walk away, even when it broke her. He never got over it—he just learned to keep moving.

A year slipped by.

Now he’s the CEO everyone talks about—press interviews, business meetings, flashing cameras, boardrooms full of people waiting for his decision. But today… he escaped. Just one hour of peace in a small coffee shop, hoodie on, phone flipped face down, trying to remember what breathing normally feels like.

Then he hears a familiar voice at the counter.

He looks up—heart stopping, world slowing—and there she is, ordering coffee like she isn’t the person he’s spent a year trying to forget.

He stands there frozen, pulse loud in his ears, fingers tightening around his cup. “…Hey,” he manages, voice softer than he intended. “It’s been a while.”

And in that single moment, every success, every award, every achievement feels meaningless compared to the one thing he lost—

her.