Se-Ri's POV
Six months had passed since I left Shanghai.
Toronto had shifted seasons again.
The spring rains had turned into warm, honeyed light, and now autumn whispered through the trees — crisp and gold-edged.
I returned to work.
To life.
To the rhythm of it all.
But something inside me had been rearranged — like furniture moved quietly in the night.
Everything looked the same… but nothing quite fit the same way anymore.
Ren had officially joined Serenité as a marketing intern two months ago.
He spent half his time goofing off, and the other half impressing the team with an uncanny knack for strategy.
Rhea was glowing — beautifully, unmistakably. Third trimester.
Amisha and I had taken on baby-welcome preparations like it was an UN-level operation — spreadsheets, pastel napkins, and deeply passionate debates about diaper brands.
And through it all —
I missed him.
Leo.
We texted every day.
Photos of food.
Snippets from meetings.
Random book recs. Leo in new cities.
Me sending videos of Ren sleeping at his desk with a pen stuck to his cheek.
But still...
I missed him.
Not the conversations.
Not the photos.
Him.
His warmth.
The way he looked at me like I was the only truth in the room.
The way silence felt safe when he was near.
That morning, I was mid-mascara stroke, prepping for a board presentation, when my phone rang.
Leo.
I answered immediately.
"You told me to call the moment I landed," he said.
His voice —
Warm.
Tired.
Real.
"I've landed."
I didn't finish my makeup.
I didn't finish my toast.
I left like a storm.
Pearson Airport was packed, but not with the usual shuffle of travelers and sleepy cab drivers.
There was energy.
Reporters.
Flashes.
Murmurs.
Someone important was coming.
And then it clicked.
They weren't just waiting for anyone.
They were waiting for him.
Leo's return to Canada — after the Shanghai expansion, after the Bridgestone headlines — had created a storm in the tech world.
His name had dominated every major paper for days.
And now the mysterious, private son of Markus Wu had landed.
Bodyguards lined the arrival gate.
Phones were lifted.
Microphones jostled.
But Leo stepped into view like none of it belonged to him.
Tall.
Composed.
In a charcoal coat.
Eyes scanning past the noise.
And then —
He saw me.
He didn't look at the cameras.
He didn't look at the crowd.
Just me.
And in that moment, the world could have been screaming.
But he was walking toward me.
Fast.
It felt like we were the only two people in the universe.
The crowd vanished.
The noise blurred.
All I could feel was the pull of his gaze, steady and unblinking, as the distance between us disappeared.
Then—
He was there.
Right in front of me.
He paused for just a heartbeat.
Then leaned in and kissed my forehead.
Not rushed.
Not for show.
Just... right.
He pulled me into his arms — tight, certain.
And didn't let go until we were in the car, doors closed, the city fading behind us.
And for the first time in six months—
I exhaled.