The soft spring air slipped through the wide windows of the penthouse as Zeke stepped out of the bathroom, hair still damp. A towel hung loosely around his neck, and the subtle scent of sandalwood soap lingered on his skin. Faint laughter echoed from the living room—Arielle, his niece, was busy admiring the collection of rare action figures displayed in the glass cabinet.
It had been a year since Zeke reconnected with Nicole. All their meetings had always taken place either at her house or in neutral cafés. But now that his divorce with Cassidy was final, Zeke no longer had any reason to say no to Arielle.
For months, his niece had begged to see the penthouse—the place she imagined to be dripping in luxury and mystery, just like the life of her elusive uncle. Zeke had always refused, not because he didn't want her there, but because Cassidy had still been living with him.
Now, things were different.
And with today being a public holiday, it felt like the perfect time. So, for the first time ever, Zeke opened the doors of his penthouse to his sister and her daughter.
The relaxed atmosphere, however, shattered the moment Zeke entered the kitchen and saw Nicole standing near the island counter, holding his phone.
"Cassidy just called," Nicole said, her eyes sharp on him. "She asked to speak with you. But when she found out you were in the shower, she hung up."
Zeke paused, staring at the phone now lying on the cold marble.
"Zeke…" Nicole's tone softened. "Call her back. She might get the wrong idea."
Without replying, Zeke gave a slight nod and tapped on 'recent calls.' His heart beat faster than usual.
The call rang for a long time. Just as he was about to give up, a voice finally answered—hoarse and quiet.
"Hello?"
"Cass?" Zeke kept his voice calm. "You called earlier. What's going on?"
"I was just… looking for my bag," Cassidy answered flatly. "I think I left it at the apartment. I was calling to get it back."
"What bag?"
"My Dior. The nude one—you know which," she continued. "But don't bother bringing it. Just send it with a courier."
Zeke nodded, even though she couldn't see him. "Alright. I'll find it."
He hesitated. He wanted to explain about Nicole and Arielle—who it was that answered Cassidy's call. But just as he opened his mouth, Cassidy cut in.
"No need to explain, Zeke," she said coolly. "It's your business."
Click.
The call ended. Silence filled the room.
Zeke lowered the phone slowly, letting out a long breath. His gaze drifted toward the Manhattan skyline beyond the window, empty and distant.
Nicole, still standing nearby, watched her younger brother with concern.
"Do you… love her?"
Nicole leaned against the kitchen island, arms folded across her chest as she watched her brother silently stare out the window. The tension hung between them like a fog—heavy and unspoken.
"Zeke," she said softly.
He didn't answer right away. His jaw clenched. Then slowly, he turned to face her.
"I think I've fallen for her," he confessed, voice low. "For real. Not out of obligation or convenience—but love."
Nicole blinked, surprised by his honesty.
"But it's too late," he continued, half-laughing at the irony. "We're already divorced. She doesn't even like me, Nic. Hell, I don't think she ever did. And I can't blame her."
Nicole took a slow breath. "So that's why you've been walking around like a ghost."
Zeke shrugged. "It's the first time this has ever happened to me. I've never felt like this before… never regretted something this much. If I'd realized sooner—maybe I would've fought for her. Tried harder. Maybe, just maybe… she'd have ended up loving me too."
Nicole pushed off the counter and walked closer. "What's done is done. But that doesn't mean it's over. You can still change things, Zeke. Go after her. Tell her how you feel. Start over."
Zeke looked away. "What if she doesn't want that? What if she rejects me?"
Nicole raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you were such a coward."
He frowned slightly. "I'm not—"
"You're the heir to the largest pharmaceutical empire in the world, and this is what scares you? A woman saying no?"
Zeke exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not just a 'no,' Nic. This isn't a business deal. This is her heart. Her life. I don't want to force my feelings on her, or make her uncomfortable. She deserves better than being cornered by someone she doesn't love."
Nicole's expression softened. "You're not forcing her, Zeke. You're being honest. And maybe that's exactly what she needs right now."
Zeke turned, giving her a wry smile. "I don't want to push myself into her life if she's finally happy without me."
He didn't reply, but the look in his eyes shifted—haunted by what-ifs, and flickers of a hope he hadn't let himself feel.
"Be honest. If she shuts the door, fine. But if there's even a tiny part of her that still wonders about you… don't you want to know?"
Did he want to know?
Yes.
Did he have the courage to face the answer?
That… he still wasn't sure.
But for the first time, he was considering it.
Really considering it.
***
Later that night...
The penthouse felt especially quiet now.
Nicole and Arielle had left a few hours ago, leaving Zeke alone with nothing but the hum of the city beyond the glass walls and the ticking of a luxury wall clock that somehow made the silence heavier.
He stood in the middle of the living room, staring at Cassidy's Dior bag resting neatly on the console table. He'd been staring at it for the past fifteen minutes, trying to convince himself that this—this—could be his opening.
A simple reason. Nothing too forward. Just a test. A gamble.
He picked up his phone, scrolled to Cassidy's name, and hit call before he could second-guess himself.
The line rang.
And rang.
Just as he thought she might not answer, her voice finally came through.
"Ezekiel."
Her tone was clipped but polite.
"Hey," he said, trying to sound casual. "I'm heading out for a bit, and your bag is still here. Thought maybe it's easier if I drop it off on my way. Saves time with a courier."
There was a pause. Then, Cassidy's voice came again, calm but distant.
"No need. I'd rather you just send it by courier. It's more convenient."
Zeke stood still, the words landing heavier than they should've.
"Right. Of course," he said quietly. "If that's what you prefer."
"It is. Thank you, though."
Then he added, "By the way… your bag isn't the only thing still here. There's still a lot of your stuff in the bedroom. Books. Some skincare. A scarf or two. Even your favorite mug."
A beat of silence.
Then Cassidy answered, tone cool but firm. "I'll stop by and pick the rest up another time. Maybe when you're at the office. I don't want to disturb anything. I just need the bag for now."
Zeke closed his eyes briefly. Her choice of words—'when you're at the office'—was a clear boundary.
"Sure," he said. Then, as casually as possible, he added, "Actually… you forgot to mention your new address."
There was a pause.
Zeke kept his tone smooth, careful not to give away that he already knew. Blake had forwarded the address a few days ago, courtesy of a quiet surveillance check-in. Zeke hadn't meant to use it—but asking directly now gave him a way to cover his tracks.
"Oh. Right," Cassidy replied. "I'll text it to you."
He hesitated again. Wanted to say something more. Wanted to ask if she was okay. If she was sleeping. Eating. Thinking about him.
But all he said was, "Okay. I'll send it out first thing tomorrow."
"Alright. Goodnight, Ezekiel."
"…Goodnight, Cassidy."
Then the line went dead.
Zeke stared at the phone in his hand, the screen dimming to black. Silence wrapped around him again, thicker now.
He sat down slowly, letting the weight of disappointment settle across his chest. He hadn't expected much, but… deep down, he'd hoped for a sliver of warmth. A reason to go. A door—however small—left open.
But Cassidy had kept it shut.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaled, then picked the phone back up.
A moment later, Andrew answered.
"Yes, boss?"
"I need you to arrange an express courier," Zeke said, his tone flat but tired. "Pickup first thing tomorrow morning. Delivery within the day."
"Understood. What's the item?"
"A handbag," Zeke replied. "Dior. Belongs to Cassidy."
There was a brief pause on the other end. Andrew, ever professional, didn't comment.
"And the address?" he asked instead.
"She'll be texting it to me," Zeke said. "I'll forward it to you as soon as I get it. Just make sure the courier's on standby."
"Will do. Anything else?"
Zeke glanced once more at the bag. For a second, his fingers tightened around the phone.
"No. That's all."
"Very well. I'll confirm the booking tonight."
Zeke hung up without another word.
He leaned back on the couch, exhaling through his nose.
"Too soon," he murmured to himself.
Maybe she wasn't ready.
Maybe she never would be.
Maybe he was already too late.
Still, the bag remained on the table, untouched.
Just like the words he hadn't gotten the chance to say.
***