The city outside James's sleek office hummed with its usual pulse, but inside, everything felt off-kilter. The silence was thick, almost unnatural, like the calm before a storm. The usual clatter of ringing phones and rapid-fire emails was absent, replaced only by the faint hiss of the air conditioner struggling against the tension.
James sat rigid behind his minimalist desk, eyes locked on a cup of coffee gone cold. His fingers traced the rim absentmindedly, like he could sip away the weight dragging on his chest. The night before replayed relentlessly in his mind.
Last night played on loop in his mind.
Daisy's tired eyes, the slow grace in her movements, the way she disappeared behind that worn waitress uniform. None of it fit the Daisy he remembered. Not the Daisy who once lit up the darkest parts of his world.
He'd pictured their reunion in a thousand better ways: a chance meeting on a sunlit street, a charity gala shimmering with crystal chandeliers, a fleeting encounter in some fancy hotel lobby. Never here. Never with her balancing a stranger's tray.
He closed his eyes, trying to steady the storm inside. Why was she there?
At that club.
Serving drinks.
Why there of all places?
The question gnawed like a dull ache, relentless and raw.
A deep sigh escaped his lips, and he spun his chair toward the ceiling, letting the silence swallow him whole. "Shouldn't you have your dreams by now?" he muttered bitterly to the empty room.
Before the silence could choke him further, the door burst open with a bang and footsteps stormed in. Mike, with his usual mix of swagger and rough warmth, appeared carrying two cups of steaming coffee.
He plopped them on the desk with a clatter. "Here. Morning fuel. You look like you got hit by a truck," Mike said, his voice rough but caring underneath the sarcasm.
James mustered a weak smile. "Thanks, Mike. I need this more than you know."
Mike lowered himself into the chair opposite, studying James with eyes full of concern and a hint of frustration. "Jam, you're different. I don't know when I last saw you like this. Usually, you own the room, but now? You look lost."
James raised his coffee cup but barely drank. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around what I saw last night."
He let out a slow breath, clutching the cup. "I never thought she'd be there… Daisy."
Mike scoffed, eyes narrowing. "Your ex who ditched you? The one who had you moody and aimless for years? The one who made you look like a ghost back then?"
James shook his head. "I don't know what to think anymore."
Mike leaned forward, eyes narrowing with a mix of disbelief and irritation. "And I don't get how she ended up like that. Didn't expect that from her."
"I figured she'd be married, living some cushy life somewhere. But maybe this… this is what she deserves for leaving you"
James stared blankly at the ceiling, voice barely above a whisper. "You don't know anything. You never heard why she left me?"
Mike's jaw tightened. Seeing James spiral back into that old wound made him restless. "Man, it's been ten years. Tons of women chasing you now."
Mike smirked, "What about Darcy? She's hot, smart… the full package. Wake up."
James rubbed his temples, exhaustion settling deeper.
Mike's grin turned sharper as he sipped his coffee slowly. "Look, I get you're hurting. Honestly, I'm sick of hearing about Daisy. But why are you still living in the past? Especially when she just up and left without a word?"
James met Mike's eyes, breath heavy, raw. "I can't shake it, Mike. Last night… she wasn't the Daisy I knew. You saw it too, right?"
Mike rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. "Leaving you was her choice. Plain and simple. She made that call to hurt you."
James leaned back, staring at the coffee cup like it held the answers. Mike watched him, a sardonic smile playing on his lips.
"Dude, it's been ten years. You're still hung up on her? I'm tired of the reruns. Time to move on."
James exhaled slowly. "I know. I just want to know why. Why she left."
Mike shrugged, lazily. "I don't know why she left, and honestly? I don't care."
James ran a hand roughly through his hair.
Mike laughed, shaking his head. "Forget her. You stress over her; I don't get why you're not all-in on your empire instead of spinning the same sad song."
James grimaced. "I tried. But seeing her again… it messed me up."
Mike smirked, dry as ever. "You were young then. Nobody's perfect. Plenty of girls out there better for you. So why chase a ghost?"
James's gaze sharpened, voice quieter but fierce. "It's not about better. It's about trust. She left without reason, and that's what kills me."
Mike rubbed his forehead, sighing. "Instead of spinning your wheels, maybe find out what really happened. Complaining won't fix a damn thing. But if you ask me? Let her go."
He leaned back in his chair, murmuring, "Easy to say when you're not the one left behind."
Mike sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe you don't need her to explain. Maybe you just need to explain it to yourself."
James sat there, the coffee forgotten, eyes distant but burning. The weight of a decade of silence, questions, and wounds compressed into a moment of quiet reckoning.