Liana had just returned from the bookstore with a small bag of new paperbacks when she saw a figure waiting at the lobby of the building.
He turned at the sound of her footsteps.
"Liana?"
She stopped, blinking. "Miguel?"
He smiled—easy, boyish, and too familiar. "Wow. You still remember me."
"How could I not?" she said, a little stunned. "We worked at the same school for two years."
Miguel was the literature department's golden boy—bright, talkative, and once, someone Liana had shared afternoon coffee with more than a few times.
"Do you work nearby?" she asked, still processing.
"Actually…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I just moved back from Cebu. And I… may have looked you up. I didn't expect you'd be Mrs. Reyes now."
She flushed slightly, adjusting the book bag on her shoulder. "It was a quiet wedding."
"Still," he said with a grin, "You married Nathaniel Reyes. The Nathaniel Reyes."Then softer: "Does he treat you well?"
Liana smiled gently. "He's learning to."
Miguel's eyes softened. "You always liked difficult stories."
Before she could answer, the elevator doors opened—and Nathaniel stepped out.
He stopped when he saw them.
His eyes scanned the scene in a second. Miguel. Liana. The distance between them. Her bag of books. Her expression.
Nathaniel walked over, calm but direct.
Liana stepped forward. "Nathaniel, this is Miguel. We used to teach together."
Miguel extended a hand. "I've read about your company. Impressive work."
Nathaniel shook his hand briefly, his expression unreadable. "Thanks."
A pause.
Miguel smiled, but it was quieter now. "Well... I should get going. Just wanted to say hi."
He gave Liana one last, knowing glance. "I'm glad you found someone who looks at you like that."
Then he walked away.
Back in the elevator, Nathaniel didn't speak.
Liana looked up at him. "You're quiet."
"I didn't realize people from your past still looked at you like that," he said plainly.
She raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
"Like they missed their chance."
Liana couldn't help but laugh—soft, surprised, and genuine.
"I married you, didn't I?"
Nathaniel looked at her. "Why?"
She turned to face him fully, book bag resting against her hip.
"Because Miguel always talked," she said. "But you—you listen. Even when you don't speak."
The elevator chimed.
Before the doors opened, she leaned up on her toes and kissed his cheek.
"I never wanted loud love," she whispered. "I wanted something steady. Something real."
Nathaniel didn't smile.
But when they stepped out of the elevator, he took her hand without a word.
Not because someone was watching.
But because he wanted to.