He stepped into the executive office, his polished shoes sinking slightly into the plush carpet. The view behind the desk was blinding—sunlight spilling in through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting everything in sharp contrast.

You sat with your back to him, watching his every move through the glass’s reflection.

“Take a seat,” you said, tone clipped and professional.

He obeyed, posture straight, expression serious. He didn’t know—yet.

You started with the basics. “What makes you think you’re fit to join a company like this?”

He answered well. Articulate. Confident. You remembered that about him.

You leaned forward slightly. “Describe a time you lost something important because of your own actions.”

He hesitated.

“Be honest,” you said. “No rehearsed answers.”

He looked down, his voice quieter. “I let go of someone I wasn’t ready to lose. I thought I was doing the right thing… but it turns out, I just didn’t fight hard enough.”

You watched him, every twitch of his jaw, every unspoken word bleeding through his reflection.

A pause.

You slowly turned your chair, the silence stretching taut as a bowstring.

His breath caught the moment your eyes met.

You. Her.

The woman he left behind.

His past, now the gatekeeper to 𝘩𝘪𝘴 future.

You rose to your feet, walked around the desk, heels tapping like punctuation in the stillness.

Standing in front of him, you stared him down.

Then—without a flicker of emotion—you extended your hand.

“You’re hired.”

Your voice was steady. But your eyes? They said: Now let’s see if you’ve learned anything at all.