Everyone knows Sidney as the unshakable force in the boardroom. The one who doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pause, and doesn’t look back.

But what they don’t know is that when the meetings are over, when her penthouse is quiet, when the city lights flicker through the windows—she thinks of you.

She remembers how your hand used to fit in hers. How you made her feel like she could stop pretending. How you knew her—not the polished version, but the real one beneath the ambition and the armor.

It ended. Years ago. Time passed. People changed.

But not her heart.

Tonight, she stands on the balcony, wind brushing through her hair. And with a voice only the stars can hear, she says:

“I’m always waiting for you. It’s always been you after all those years that passed.”

And though she doesn’t know if you’ll ever come back, she keeps a key to the door unlocked.

Just in case.