Two weeks passed in a blur of routine.  

Lilia dropped by the hospital a few times—never for long, never unannounced.  

She’d bring fruit, sometimes coffee, always looking like she had somewhere else to be.  

Still, she came.  

For Bix, those visits were the highlight of otherwise endless days.  

Most of his time was spent lying in bed, overthinking a single, ridiculous thing—  

how to start a conversation with her.  

“Hi, good morning?” Too random.  

“How’s work?” Too forced.  

“Thanks for visiting.” Too formal.  

Every message he drafted sounded wrong, so he deleted them all.  

By the end of two weeks, their chat thread was still completely blank.  

He laughed to himself.  

“This is harder than insurance paperwork.”  

Finally, the day came for him to leave the hospital.  

The cast still hugged his leg; every step felt like dragging time itself.  

He wasn’t worried, though—he’d done the math.  

With the insurance payout, a few months of careful spending, he’d survive.  

Maybe even rest for once.  

That same morning, Ralf Renor walked into Lilia’s office building.  

He came under the pretense of business—something about a joint investment fund—but his eyes gave him away.  

He looked at her like she was both a prize and a puzzle.  

“Miss Quell, perhaps we could continue this discussion over dinner?” he asked smoothly.  

Around the table, a few board members chuckled.  

“Go on, Lilia,” one of them said. “You’ve earned a night off.”  

“She works too hard,” another added. “Let the client spoil her a little.”  

Lilia smiled out of habit, but inside she felt that familiar weight.  

Politeness had become armor.  

Then her phone buzzed on the table.  

She glanced down.  

【Hey, I’m getting discharged today.】  

Just seven words—but something in her loosened.  

The corners of her mouth lifted before she could stop them.  

“I’m sorry, gentlemen,” she said, standing.  

“Something urgent came up. I’ll have to take a rain check on dinner.”  

The room fell quiet for a beat.  

The board members exchanged knowing looks and shrugged.  

“She’s always working,” one of them said with a laugh.  

“Renor, my friend, that woman’s married to her job.”  

Ralf smiled politely, unbothered.  

“Well,” he said, “I do enjoy a challenge.”  

Meanwhile, Lilia stepped into the elevator, the doors closing her off from the noise.  

She looked at the message again, thumb hovering over the keyboard.  

What should she say?  

“Congratulations”? Too stiff.  

“Need a ride?” Too direct.  

She thought for a moment, then typed:  

【That’s good. Don’t wander off.】  

She hit send and stared at the screen,  

feeling a strange mix of calm and something else she didn’t want to name.  

It wasn’t much—a short reply to a short message—  

but it felt like the beginning of something neither of them could quite define.