The lobby of Carter Corp was usually a place of cold, corporate efficiency. But this morning, it felt different. An elderly couple, dressed in simple but elegant clothes, stood near the reception desk. They didn't look like billionaire investors, but the way the security guards bowed their heads told a different story.
These were the founders. Arthur's parents.
"Now, Henry, don't be so obvious," Eleanor Carter whispered, adjusting her glasses as she scanned the lobby. "We are just here for a 'spontaneous' lunch with our son."
"Eleanor, we haven't had a spontaneous lunch with Arthur in three years," Henry Carter chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "He's going to know we're here to see the girl."
Upstairs, Alicia was oblivious to the impending "inspection." She was in the archives, struggling to pull a heavy box of old blueprints from a top shelf. Just as the box began to tilt dangerously, a pair of wrinkled but strong hands reached up to help her.
"Careful there, dear. Those old buildings are heavier than they look," Henry said with a warm smile.
Alicia turned, breathless. "Oh, thank you so much! I thought I had it, but gravity had other plans."
Eleanor stepped forward, her eyes softened by a kindness that reminded Alicia of her own mother. "You must be Alicia. The architect."
Alicia blinked, surprised. "Yes, I am. I'm sorry, have we met?"
"Not yet," Eleanor replied, gently taking Alicia's hand. "But our son hasn't stopped talking about the 'architect with the heart of gold.' And seeing you now, I can see why."
Alicia's heart skipped. Our son? She looked from the woman to the man, realizing the familiar shape of the jawline and the intensity in their eyes. These were Arthur's parents. The people who had stayed by him through his darkest hours.
Before she could find her words, the elevator dinged. Arthur stepped out, his face a mask of shock that quickly melted into a rare, genuine embarrassment.
"Mother? Father? What are you doing in the archives?"
"We were just getting to know Alicia, Arthur," Henry said, winking at his son. "And I must say, your taste in 'colleagues' has improved significantly."
The tension in Arthur's shoulders vanished. He looked at Alicia, who was blushing furiously, and then at his parents. For the first time in his life, his two worlds—the painful past and the hopeful present—were standing in the same room. And they weren't clashing. They were merging.