At two in the afternoon, sunlight streamed through the department store’s tall windows, scattering across the polished tiles.

Evan walked briskly, briefcase in hand.  

His supervisor had sent him here last minute to meet a brand manager about an ad deal.  

It was his first time handling a client alone, and his palms were already damp.

*Stay calm. Don’t screw this up.*

He kept repeating it to himself as the elevator climbed.

On the third floor, the handbag section gleamed under white lights.  

Rows of displays, leather catching the reflection like water.  

Price tags sat in neat corners—four figures, five.  

He stared for a moment, quietly stunned.  

His whole paycheck could barely buy one.

The clerk told him the manager was on the way, so he waited, pretending to browse while the minutes stretched long.

Then a voice he recognized.  

“Could I see that one? The beige one.”  

He froze, turning before he could think.

By the counter stood a woman in a light coat, hair falling loosely over her shoulders.  

No heavy makeup, no glitter. Just a quiet, clean presence.

Sienna.

For a second, his breath caught.  

She didn’t look like the woman from the lounge.  

Here, she could’ve been anyone—someone who belonged to daylight.  

Her fingers brushed the leather as she listened to the clerk’s pitch.  

“This is new stock,” the clerk said brightly. “Soft grain, works for everyday or formal wear.”

Sienna nodded. “I know. I’ll keep looking.”

Her tone was calm, detached, and somehow magnetic.

Evan stood a few steps away, pulse racing.  

Of all places, he hadn’t expected this.  

Here, she wasn’t the woman surrounded by neon lights; she was just herself.  

He hesitated, then forced himself forward.

“Hey,” he said softly.

She looked up, surprised at first, then composed.  

“Oh—it’s you.”  

No smile, just recognition.

He nodded quickly, fumbling for steadiness.  

“Yeah. Work sent me here for a meeting. I didn’t expect to see you.”

“Small world,” she said, voice even, like talking to a stranger she vaguely remembered.

He lingered beside her, staring at the row of handbags.  

His mind scrambled for words.

“You’re… shopping for a bag?”  

The moment it left his mouth, he regretted it.

“Mm.”  

That was all.

The silence stretched, heavy and awkward.  

The clerk brought out another design. “This one’s bigger. Very popular.”  

Sienna took it, running her fingertips over the surface, thoughtful.  

Her expression softened, serious, focused.  

Evan watched, an ache settling in his chest.  

If he had the money, he thought, he could say, *I’ll get it for you.*  

But he didn’t.  

He couldn’t even afford the strap.

“I’ll take this one,” she said finally.

Her tone was simple, decisive.  

The clerk smiled wide and began wrapping the purchase.  

Evan stood there, feeling the invisible wall between them—the quiet, undeniable distance.

She could buy something like that without hesitation.  

He couldn’t even speak.

For the first time, the truth hit him with clarity:  

They lived in different worlds.

When she turned to leave, he panicked and called out.  

“Sienna.”

She stopped, turned back. Her expression stayed neutral.  

“Yeah?”

He swallowed.  

“Would you maybe… want to get dinner sometime?”

His voice cracked.  

His face burned.

She looked at him for a long second, then smiled faintly.  

“Maybe another time.”

Light words, weightless as air.  

Then she was gone—disappearing into the crowd, paper bag in hand.

Evan stayed where he was, heart tangled between pride and shame.  

He’d finally said something real, and yet… “Maybe” wasn’t a promise. It was mercy.

Still, he couldn’t stop the small flicker of hope inside him.

That night, back in his apartment, he typed a message and stared at it for too long.  

**[Didn’t expect to see you at the mall today.]**

The reply came minutes later.  

**[Mm.]**

Just one character.  

Flat. Distant.  

He stared at it anyway, smiling faintly through the sting.  

At least she replied.  

At least she hadn’t walked away completely.