The Sinclair penthouse was unusually quiet that morning, the usual rustle of emails and business calls replaced by a heavy silence that made its presence known. Adrian sat on the edge of his bed, half-dressed, tie abandoned on the floor like his thoughts. He was staring at his hands — clean, callous-free, polished to perfection — but they felt no less worn. Empty, even.
He'd canceled every meeting, ignored every call. His calendar was always full, always precise, he hated empty space. But today, he'd made room. Not for a deal, not for a merger, but for something far more urgent. A conversation.
He needed Daniel. Danial Grayson was Adrian Sinclair's long time best friend. As far back as Adrian could remember, Danial had been there for him. Always extending a helping hand. Ready to put everything on halt to help Adrian out, the one person who truly understood Adrian.
The drive out to Daniel's estate was a quiet one, peaceful almost, but lacking. Daniel's estate, tucked into the rolling outskirts of the city, looked like it had leapt from a painting, stone walls kissed with ivy, wide glass doors flung open to a sun-drenched patio. Adrian was greeted at the door by a barefoot Daniel, coffee mug in hand, his usually groomed dark hair slightly tousled from what must've been a late night.
"Took you long enough," Daniel smirked, leaning against the frame.
Adrian managed a ghost of a smile. "Was contemplating turning back halfway."
Daniel arched an eyebrow. "Then you really do need this talk. Come in."
They made their way through the house, warm, lived-in, unpretentious, and into the study that Daniel had stubbornly refused to modernize. Wood-paneled walls, leather-bound books, an old gramophone that didn't work but still held pride of place.
"Sigh.." Adrian muttered, collapsing into a leather armchair that groaned beneath him. Sunlight sliced through dusty blinds, highlighting the faint tremor in his hands.
"So," Daniel began, pouring whiskey into two glasses despite the early hour. "To what do I owe the pleasure of an emotionally repressed billionaire barging into my peaceful day?"
Adrian chuckled bitterly, accepting the glass. "You always know how to make someone feel seen."
Daniel studied him for a beat. "You look like hell, Adrian."
"I feel worse."
They sat. The silence was different here — easier, forgiving. Daniel waited. He always had that gift — never pressing, just offering space until the truth walked in on its own.
"I can't stop thinking," Adrian said at last. "About Victoria. About Emily. About… everything."
Daniel took a sip, leaned back. "Start with Victoria."
Adrian sighed, looking down at his glass, watching the liquid catch the light like it might hold answers he couldn't find in himself. "I loved her. Or at least… I thought I did. She made me feel things I didn't think I was capable of. Like I had a heart. Like maybe I wasn't just this… broken thing pretending to be whole. But she left. Without a warning. Without a word. I keep wondering if it was me. If it was my inability to... hell, I don't know… just be soft. Be human. Maybe I didn't know how to hold onto something that wasn't already falling apart."
Daniel leaned back in his chair, his expression calm but not unfeeling. "She made a choice," he said, his voice steady. "And so did you, every day after. You survived it. Doesn't mean it didn't hurt like hell, but you're here. And you're still standing."
Adrian let out a dry laugh, not bitter, just exhausted. "Standing, yeah. But at what cost?"
Daniel tilted his head. "The cost of becoming a man who knows what it means to lose. That makes you real. That makes you dangerous in the best kind of way. The kind that can love again… if you let yourself."
Adrian didn't answer right away. The silence stretched, not empty, but full of something unspoken. Regret. Longing. Hope. Maybe all three.
Adrian nodded slowly. "That's the thing. I moved on, or I tried to. And now, there's Emily."
Daniel didn't hide the knowing look that flickered across his face. "Ah, finally."
"What do you mean, 'finally'?"
"I mean, I've been watching her cater to you for years. The way she looks at you when you're not paying attention. The way she anticipates your moods better than you do. And you? You let her. You trust her with more than your schedule, Adrian, you trust her with your mask."
Adrian went quiet. Daniel always had a way of cutting straight to the bone.
"I think I love her," Adrian admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not in the way I thought I loved Victoria. It's different. Steadier. Real."
"So what's the problem?" Daniel asked, already suspecting the answer.
"I'm too repressive," Adrian muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Not just with my emotions. But with everything else, I'm doing it again. I know I'm hurting, but I have no Idea how to move on…. heal."
Daniel's gaze sharpened. "And now you're scared she'll leave, like Victoria did."
"I don't know what I'd do if she did."
Daniel leaned forward, setting his glass down with a soft clink. "Then don't give her a reason to. Adrian, you can't keep expecting people to read through your silence. You can't build walls and then get mad when no one climbs over them."
"I don't know how to be any other way," Adrian admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. "I wasn't raised to... feel. I was raised to perform. To conquer. To control."
"But feelings aren't the enemy," Daniel said. "They're the part you've been missing. You want to love Emily? Then do it wholly. Don't dip your toe in and hope she'll wait while you figure yourself out."
Adrian exhaled slowly. "She's everything I'm not."
"No," Daniel corrected gently. "She's everything you've always needed. And deep down, you know it. So stop analyzing it. Stop doubting it. Let go of the woman who walked away and start holding on to the one who's still here."
Adrian let the silence stretch this time, but it was thoughtful now. Not lost.
Daniel shook his head, a laugh under his breath. "You're a damn genius in the boardroom, but when it comes to feelings, you've got all the finesse of a brick."
Adrian managed a dry chuckle. "Tell me about it," pausing thoughtfully; "I never thanked you," he said finally.
Daniel waved him off. "That's what I'm here for."
"But," Daniel said, smirking again. "What happened between you two that made Mr. Iceberg here crack? You're not one to come running unless you're really lost."
"Like that one time at Brown where you lost your Dad's keys and came running to me for a solution. "
Adrian rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking sheepish. "Well… we had a fight."