Content Warning

This chapter contains intense emotional confrontation, memories of school bullying, trauma reactivation, and psychological manipulation. Reader discretion is advised.

The hours passed without Sebastian noticing. When he finally arrived at the office, it was already nearly noon. He had stayed at the gym far longer than usual, punishing his body as if that could bring order to the chaos in his mind. His expression remained hard, impenetrable, but exhaustion seeped into every gesture.

From the entrance, he saw Noah at his cubicle. As always: focused, disciplined, obedient to an extreme.

“Noah,” he called, his voice firm. “Come to my office.”

Noah looked up immediately and nodded. As he walked, he glanced at the time on his phone. Lunch was approaching. He still had time to go out and buy something for Sebastian. He had thought of a smartwatch, one of those popular models he knew someone like him would appreciate.

Sebastian invited him to sit. This time there was no open hostility. He settled in front of him, resting his elbows on the desk.

“I need a favor,” he said with unusual calm. “Something personal.”

Noah clasped his hands over his lap, attentive, prepared for any work-related order.

“Today is my birthday,” Sebastian continued, lowering his tone. “And I need you to buy something for me. I don’t trust anyone else.”

The words fell heavily.

Sebastian took out cash and placed it on the desk. It was enough to buy something expensive. Too much.

Noah’s eyes widened, confused. Of all the possible orders, that was the last one he expected.

“What… what would you like me to buy?” he asked, striving to keep his voice steady. “Do you have something in mind? Or… would you prefer that I choose?”

Sebastian watched him closely. Noah’s nervousness stirred something strange in him: surprise, curiosity… and a need to push him.

“I’d rather you choose,” he replied at last.

It was a test, or a challenge.

Noah’s hands were sweating. Even so, he nodded.

“I’ll do it. I won’t take long. I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

He stood up and, before leaving, added in a low voice:

“Happy birthday, Mr. Cross.”

Sebastian watched him walk away with an intensity he didn’t even understand himself.

Noah left the building almost running. His mind was a whirlwind. He couldn’t believe his boss had asked him for something like that. He already had a clear idea: he would use his savings for the smartwatch. But… what else do you give someone you barely remember?

He ate something quickly at a street stall and began walking through stores: men’s clothing, shoes, accessories. Guessing sizes was torture. He told himself, with bitter humor, that this was worse than reviewing endless reports.

Meanwhile, Sebastian couldn’t focus. He gripped the desk so hard his knuckles turned white. Anxiety grew. What if Noah ran away? What if he mocked him? What if he stole the money?

He wondered why he had done that, but it was already too late to regret it.

Noah stopped in front of a sports car accessories shop. He remembered Sebastian’s vehicle. He went in, unsure, and bought an elegant pair of driving gloves.

Then he went to a designer store and chose a dark shirt, sensing that it matched his style. And finally, he decided to buy a small birthday cake.

Vanilla.

He didn’t know why, but that flavor felt right. He placed the remaining money inside the shirt, to return it.

Sebastian, increasingly irritable, left his office several times to look toward the cubicles and the elevator. The wait was consuming him.

Noah, for his part, came back running, carrying the bags and the cake. He stumbled a couple of times but didn’t stop. In the elevator, he vaguely remembered Sebastian wearing similar gloves in high school, trying to impress others.

When he reached the floor, his boss saw him immediately.

“Come in,” he ordered, pointing with his chin.

Noah, out of breath, hurried to explain himself.

“I had… some setbacks. I was looking for a shirt in your favorite color.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, quite surprised.

“My favorite color?”

Noah blushed and nodded several times.

“I… remembered it. Sometimes it’s like that. It depends on the situation.”

To cut the tension, he held out the bags. He included the smartwatch, the gloves, the shirt… and finally, the cake.

Sebastian observed everything in silence. When he received the gifts, he brushed Noah’s fingers on purpose. Then his gaze stopped on the cake.

“You bought this too?”

Noah replied with a faint smile.

“I thought I remembered that vanilla cake was your favorite.”

But from that moment on, the world stopped… in a twisted way.

Sebastian’s expression changed completely. From irritation, he shifted to a raw, dangerous vulnerability.

“You can’t do this,” he said, his voice tight.

No one knew that. No one… except Noah.

The memory hit him violently: his confession in high school. His birthday. The rejection. The humiliation.

Noah’s eyes widened, alarmed.

“I...I’m sorry…? I… Sebastian,… boss. It wasn’t my intention… I’m sorry. I just wanted to… Sebastian… Basti.”

“Shut up, don’t call me that!” his boss shouted, furious that he used that nickname that hurt him so deeply.

Sebastian hurled the gifts against the desk. The cake shattered, and he grabbed Noah by the chin forcefully.

“Why the hell did you do that?” he snapped. “I confessed what I felt that day. You were important to me… and you destroyed me. I told you I liked you and you accepted!”

Noah shook his head, trembling, cursing himself for not remembering that confession.

“I…I didn’t remember it. I swear. I never wanted to hurt you. It was never on purpose…”

The truth cut through him like a blade: he had forgotten the one who might have been his first love.

Sebastian, beside himself, replied with a broken voice:

“Stop lying! I never should have trusted you again. Your amnesia is a damn excuse.”

He didn’t care about the destroyed cake, or the broken watch. He only felt disappointment, and in his mind, the warning from Damien Sinclair echoed.