Good luck.
Alex pocketed his phone and went back to staring at the elevator.
Eleven-fifteen. Eleven-thirty.Eleven-forty-five.
The meeting was supposed to be an hour. It had been nearly two.
Maybe that's good. Maybe they're hammering out details. Maybe she's signing a contract right now.
Or maybe she's up there telling Dr. Okonkwo exactly why a partnership won't work because she can't stand to be in the same building as the coward who broke her heart.
At 11:52, the elevator dinged.
Alex stood so fast he nearly knocked over a potted plant.
Lily emerged first, followed by Dr. Okonkwo and two other SPECA executives he vaguely recognized. They were all smiling—handshakes and nodded agreements and the general body language of a meeting that had gone well.
But Alex only had eyes for Lily.
She looked... lighter somehow. The professional armor was still there, but it wasn't quite as rigid as before. She was laughing at something Dr. Okonkwo said, that genuine laugh he remembered from the island, and the sound of it made his chest ache.
Then her gaze swept the lobby, and she spotted him.
The laugh faded. Her expression became carefully neutral.
Alex didn't move. Didn't approach. Just stood there like an idiot, silently begging her to give him the chance he didn't deserve.
Dr. Okonkwo followed Lily's gaze and raised an eyebrow in Alex's direction. Something passed between the two women—a look, a nod, some form of silent communication he wasn't privy to—and then Patricia was steering the other executives toward a different exit, leaving Lily alone in the lobby.
Leaving her with him.
Lily walked toward him slowly, her heels clicking against the polished concrete floor. She stopped about five feet away—close enough to talk, far enough to maintain distance.
"You're still here," she said. Not a question.
"I didn't know where else to be."
"Don't you have important research to do? Fish to count?"
The barb landed, but Alex absorbed it. He deserved worse.
"Can we go somewhere? To talk?" He gestured vaguely toward the harbor-side terrace. "There's a patio. It's usually empty this time of day."
Lily hesitated. He watched her weigh the options—the part of her that wanted to protect herself warring with... something else. Something that looked like it might be hope, quickly suppressed.
"Five minutes," she finally said. "That's what you asked for."
"That's all I need."
He led her through the glass doors to the outdoor terrace, a small paved area with a few benches overlooking the harbor. The September air was crisp, carrying the salt-and-diesel smell of the waterfront. A seagull screamed somewhere overhead.
Lily leaned against the railing, arms crossed, waiting.
Alex opened his mouth to deliver one of his rehearsed speeches.
Nothing came out.
All those carefully crafted words—the apologies, the explanations, the declarations—had evaporated, leaving him with nothing but the raw, terrifying truth.
