The silence between them stretched as the city hummed softly in the background—honking cars, distant chatter, and the soft flutter of neon lights flickering to life.
Alina stood frozen, the envelope clutched in her hand, Leonard's words echoing in her ears.
"I want to start over. As equals."
She had imagined this moment countless times in the darkest corners of her mind—him chasing after her, saying all the things he never did before. But now that it was happening, it didn't feel victorious.
It felt complicated.
And fragile.
"I need time," she finally said, voice quiet but firm.
Leonard's shoulders tensed, but he nodded slowly. "I understand."
Alina didn't wait for more. She turned and walked toward her car, heels clicking in sharp rhythm against the pavement. She didn't look back, even when she knew he was still standing there.
At home, she couldn't sleep.
She lay in bed staring at the ceiling, the envelope resting on the nightstand next to the untouched sapphire necklace. Both were symbols of Leonard—both were tangled in too many memories.
Her phone buzzed.
Grace:Are you okay? The article's everywhere.
Alina stared at the screen.
Alina:I'm fine. I met him.
The reply came fast.
Grace:What did he say?
Alina:He wants to start over.
Three dots appeared and vanished. Then:Grace:And you?
Alina didn't respond.
Because she didn't know the answer yet.
The next morning at Liang Capital, Alina kept her head down, immersing herself in data sheets and marketing projections. But by noon, whispers followed her through the hallway.
She caught glimpses of phones, half-hidden smirks, and subtle glances from interns and junior executives.
She knew why.
Another article had dropped.
"Mrs. Xu and Jasper Liang: More Than Just Business Partners?"
This time, the photos were clearly intrusive—Jasper placing a hand on her back as he guided her into a car after a company dinner. To anyone else, it looked intimate.
Alina stormed into Jasper's office.
He barely looked up. "I assume you've seen it?"
"You said there'd be no media leaks," she snapped.
"I didn't leak it," Jasper said coolly. "But I can't control what vultures do when they smell blood."
She glared at him. "You find this amusing?"
"I find it inevitable," he replied, leaning back in his chair. "You're the estranged wife of one of the richest CEOs in China, now working closely with his unofficial rival. Of course the media's interested."
Alina crossed her arms. "I came here to work. Not to be used."
Jasper stood, suddenly serious. "And you've done exceptional work, Alina. Don't let gossip derail that. But if you want the world to stop writing your story, maybe it's time you wrote it yourself."
His words lingered with her as she left the room.
Meanwhile, Leonard stood in his office with the printed article in hand. His jaw clenched, fingers tightening around the page. But instead of anger, a strange calm settled over him.
She had told him she needed time.
And if this was what she chose to do with it… he had to accept it.
Or at least, try.
Still, the possessive part of him roared with every line of the article.
His wife. His Alina. With another man.
His phone buzzed.
It was Daniel.
"Did you see it?" his cousin asked.
"Yes."
"You're not going to let this continue, right?"
Leonard's voice was low. "It's her life."
Daniel exhaled. "Leonard, you're my cousin, but you're also the densest man I know. If you don't make a move now, someone else will. Someone who actually shows her she matters."
"I've made mistakes—"
"Then fix them!" Daniel snapped. "You still love her. She's still your wife. Do something before it's too late."
Leonard said nothing. But long after the call ended, Daniel's words kept echoing.
That evening, Alina left the office late, fatigue clinging to her like a second skin. Her heels pinched, her shoulders ached, and her heart was tired in ways she couldn't describe.
She didn't notice the figure leaning against her car until she got closer.
Leonard.
Again.
Wearing the same dark coat. But this time, holding two cups of coffee.
"Decaf almond," he said, offering one to her. "Extra cinnamon."
Alina blinked. "How did you know I'd be working late?"
"I know you," he replied simply.
She hesitated, then took the cup. The warmth seeped into her fingers, and unexpectedly… into her chest.
"You're persistent," she said.
"I'm trying," he admitted.
They stood in silence for a beat.
Then Leonard spoke again. "I saw the article."
Alina stiffened, but he held up a hand. "I'm not here to accuse you. Or question your choices. I just want to know… are you happy?"
She blinked at him, caught off guard. "What?"
"Are you happy, Alina?" he repeated, voice quieter. "With the job. With everything."
She stared into her coffee.
"I'm… starting to feel like myself again," she said. "Like I'm more than just someone's wife."
Leonard's jaw tightened, but he nodded.
"I want you to be more than that," he said softly. "I always did. I just didn't know how to make space for it."
Alina looked at him sharply. "Then why did you marry me and leave me alone?"
"I thought I was protecting you," he said, echoing what he had told her before. "From my world. My chaos. My past."
"You are my past now," she said. "And maybe my present. But I haven't decided if you're part of my future."
The vulnerability in her voice sliced him deeper than any accusation.
"I want to earn that future," he said.
She shook her head. "Words aren't enough anymore, Leonard."
"I know."
He stepped closer. Not too close. Just enough.
"I've invited my mother to a charity gala next week," he said. "It's important. Political guests. Media. And for the first time… I want you by my side. As my wife. Not as a trophy. Not as a pawn. Just as you."
Alina's breath caught.
"You're asking me to go back into your world?"
"I'm asking you to let me walk into ours," he said.
Her fingers tightened around the coffee cup.
"Give me a few days to think," she whispered.
Leonard nodded once. Then turned to go.
Back in her apartment, Alina sat on the edge of her bed.
Her eyes flicked to the envelope again.
She opened it this time.
Inside was more than just the old photo—there was also a note in Leonard's handwriting.
You've always been the woman I admired from afar.I just didn't believe I deserved you up close.I still don't.But I'm going to fight to become a man who does.
Her fingers trembled slightly.
And her heart, traitorous and tender, ached again.