The lobby was emptying out, the last wave of employees streaming toward the exits in clusters of tired conversation and relieved laughter.
Luca stood near the glass doors, hands shoved deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched slightly against the weight pressing down on his chest.
His phone buzzed again.
**Noel:** Heading down now.
Luca's thumb hovered over the screen. He almost typed something, How was your day? Did anything happen? but the words felt too loaded, too obvious.
So he just pocketed the phone and waited.
When the elevator doors finally opened and Noel stepped out, Luca's heart did that familiar, painful thing—clenched tight, then released all at once.
Noel looked tired but calm, his tie loosened, bag slung over one shoulder, a faint smile pulling at his lips when he spotted Luca.
"Hey," Noel said, walking over. "Sorry, got held up with some last-minute edits."
"It's fine," Luca replied, turning toward the doors without meeting his eyes. "Let's go."
