She leaned in, the scent of rain and vanilla clinging to her. "He can take your weekends. He can take your sleep. He can even take your pride if you let him."
The rain in Amsterdam didn’t just fall; it blurred the world into a watercolor of greys and neon reflections. Inside the small, dimly lit café, Elena sat across from Julian, the silence between them heavier than the storm outside.
Chris was Julian’s former mentor—a man whose influence in the architectural world was as vast as it was cold. Since Julian started working at De Wit’s firm, the light in his eyes had been replaced by a frantic, perfectionist twitch. Chris didn't just demand excellence; he demanded Julian’s entire soul, making him feel that any moment of personal joy was a betrayal of his "potential." No Dejes De Besarme Por Culpa D Chris De Wit ...
"He says the bridge project is failing because I’m 'distracted,'" Julian whispered. "He says I need to be harder. That I shouldn't let... feelings... soften the lines."
Elena reached across the table, her fingers catching his. Julian flinched, his eyes darting to the door as if De Wit himself might walk in and dock his future for the crime of affection. She leaned in, the scent of rain and vanilla clinging to her
For weeks, a name had been a ghost at their table: .
She bridged the final inch between them, her lips brushing against his. Julian froze, the phantom voice of his boss echoing in his head, preaching about discipline and the weakness of sentiment. He can even take your pride if you let him
The bridge project could wait. Some things were meant to be built in the light, but the most important things were built in moments like this.