At 9:47 AM, Alex stood in the lobby of SPECA headquarters, pretending to review emails on his phone while his heart attempted to beat its way out of his chest.
The building was a converted warehouse near the harbor—all exposed brick and industrial windows, the kind of place that photographed well for donor presentations. Today, the morning light streamed through the windows in golden sheets, illuminating dust motes that danced like confetti.
She'll be here any minute.
What are you going to say?
He'd rehearsed a dozen different speeches during his morning shower, each one worse than the last. In the end, he'd decided to just... be honest. Whatever that turned out to mean in the moment.
The elevator dinged.
Alex's head snapped up.
And there she was.
Lily stepped into the lobby with the confident stride of a woman who'd come to do business—because of course she had, that was exactly what she was here for. She wore a sage green blazer over a cream silk blouse, her wild curls tamed into something almost professional, though a few rebellious strands had already escaped around her face.
She was beautiful.
She was here.
She hadn't seen him yet.
Alex watched her scan the lobby, checking her phone, looking for whoever was supposed to meet her. Her shoulders were set in that determined way he recognized—her armor, the professional persona she wore when she needed to be strong.
Move,he told himself.Go to her. Say something.
But his feet felt like they'd been nailed to the floor, and his throat had apparently forgotten how to form words.
Lily turned toward the reception desk, presumably to check in. In another thirty seconds, someone would whisk her away to a conference room, and he'd have missed his chance. Again.
No.
Not this time.
"Lily."
Her name came out rougher than he intended, barely above a croak.
She froze mid-step. Turned slowly. And when her green eyes found his across the lobby, Alex braced himself for... something. Recognition. Maybe even warmth.
What he got was ice.
Her expression shuttered so fast he almost missed the flicker of surprise beneath it. When she spoke, her voice was cool and professionally distant—the voice of a woman who'd spent five weeks packing away whatever feelings she’d had for him.
"Alex." A pause. "I didn't realize you'd be part of the meeting."
"I'm not." He was moving now, finally, his feet carrying him toward her. "I mean, I wasn't supposed to be. I just—I needed to see you."
Something flickered in her eyes—hurt, maybe, or anger—before the professional mask slammed back intoplace. "I'm here for a business meeting. If you'll excuse me, I don't want to be late."
She started to turn away.
"Lily, wait?—"
"For what, exactly?" She stopped but didn't face him fully, her profile sharp against the morning light. "I have a meeting with Dr. Okonkwo in ten minutes."
"I know. I just—I watched your video." The words tumbled out, graceless and desperate. "It was incredible. What you did with the footage, the donations, all of it?—"
