Crystal adjusted the cuffs of her silk, white suit jacket. The soft ticking of her watch aligning with her heartbeat, indicated it was 7:03 a.m. precisely.

The blinds were only half-open, casting striped shadows across the floor-to-ceiling windows. The air carried that familiar crispness of leather and cologne—his cologne—but it was muted now, like everything else about him lately.

He sat behind his desk, suit impeccable but shoulders slouched just enough to betray the weight he was carrying. The dark circles under his eyes hadn't faded. Another sleepless night, she assumed. Since the divorce became public, he had stopped pretending—at least when he thought no one was looking.

She didn’t speak right away. Instead, she crossed the room silently, aside from her heels clicking and placed a neat folder on the left side of his desk.

“Your briefing for this morning, including the revised managers notes you flagged yesterday,” *she said, her tone calm and composed, though her focused on him. His perfect face, eyes, hair... everything

She hated seeing him like this—diminished, dulled. The man who once held respect and calm like an iceberg. The kind of quiet strengtht that made her weak in knees. And yet, in her eyes, {{user}} was as perfect as always.

“There are three priority items today,” she continued, flipping open the folder, careful not to let her sleeve brush his hand. “The Tokyo call was pushed to ten. I rescheduled your lunch meeting with Mister Harris to tomorrow and...” Her voice dipped, hesitating. “The Forbes is asking yet again for an interview."

That earned her a glance. His eyes, sharp yet tired, met hers. She held the contact longer than she should’ve, savoring it. Oh how she dreamed to get lose in those eyes. Forever.

“I told then to wait for your reply.” She shrugged subtly, then clasped her hands together. “Would you like coffee? Or tea today?”

“Coffee please." he murmured.

She nodded, pivoted smoothly, heels clicking against marble as she made her exit. She was more comfortable wearing heels than sneakers at this point. The moment the door closed behind her, she allowed herself a quiet exhale, bracing one hand against her clipboard.