The ceo who never let him go

Nathan Cole was a good husband — no one could deny that. It didn't matter that there was no love in that marriage, no desire, no hope. He fulfilled his role without hesitation.

He had learned to do it with almost mechanical precision. To say the right thing, at the right moment. To touch without feeling. To look without seeing. In time, even the emptiness had stopped bothering him… it had become habit.

"Nathan, my love, you have no idea how much this means to me…"

Camila, his wife, rose on her toes and kissed his cheek.

Nathan barely turned his face, just enough that the contact wouldn't be direct. So it wouldn't touch his skin.

"I'm happy to do it, sweetheart," he answered, with a smile he had long since learned to fake. "I hope your mother improves with the medication."

Camila sighed, lowering her gaze.

"She's endured the pain for so long… if we can't get that medicine, I don't know what will become of us."

Nathan swallowed before taking her hand. He did it the way he always did: gently. His fingers held hers firmly… though there was no warmth in the touch.

"We'll manage it. I have to go now, they're waiting for me."

He turned toward the door.

"Nathan, my love…"

He stopped without turning around.

"What about my kiss?"

He closed his eyes for a second. Then he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. Ever since their wedding day, those kisses had been cold and distant. A formality.

Camila didn't pull away right away. He did.

He picked up his briefcase. Checked the latch.

"I'll be back early."

Nathan left, ignoring his wife's affection as he always did, and went straight to the meeting he had been waiting for.

Mr. Sterling had been putting off this meeting for nearly two months. Two months during which Nathan had reviewed the blueprints a hundred times, rehearsed every argument, calculated how much time Eleanor had left before the pain became unbearable. That was why, when the moment finally came, he didn't care that it was in a luxury hotel suite, or that the hour was unusual.

Medicine in exchange for technological advancement. It was a fair trade. It had to be.

He straightened his tie before getting out of the car. Checked that the blueprints were in order inside the briefcase. Took a breath.

In the lobby, a receptionist was waiting for him with a card in her hand.

"Mr. Cole?"

"Yes, that's me."

"Mr. Sterling is expecting you. Welcome."

Nathan nodded, and still confused, walked toward the elevator. Mr. Sterling remained, up until that moment, a complete mystery.

He pressed the button for suite 532, and in less than fifteen seconds, he reached the floor.

The doors opened. The place was dark.

Before him, a spacious, elegant living room stretched out toward a large window. At the far end, an imposing armchair faced the city… and an arm hung from it, holding a glass.

Nathan stood in silence for a moment, taking in his surroundings.

The hand moved. The ice clinked inside the glass.

The watch on his wrist caught the faint light coming through the window.

"M-Mr. Sterling… I'm Nathan Cole," he said, with a slight stammer.

The silence stretched on… until a dim light switched on.

"Mr. Cole."

The CEO's deep voice broke the stillness.

"You're very punctual."

Mr. Sterling, still without turning, raised his glass and drank calmly. His gaze stayed fixed on the glass, on the city spread out before him… he'd spent days thinking about this very thing, planning this moment, and now that Cole was here, he couldn't help the nerves getting the better of him.

"Yes, sir. I'll admit I've been looking forward to this moment. A meeting like this means a great deal to me."

"Did you bring the medical equipment?"

Nathan glanced at his briefcase.

"No, sir. I only brought the blueprints. The equipment is too large to transport alone, but if you'd like—"

Mr. Sterling didn't let him finish.

"The blueprints are fine."

There was a pause for a moment; Mr. Sterling took another drink from his glass and continued.

"But tell me, Nathan… who is the medication for?"

"For my wife's mother, sir," he answered firmly.

Mr. Sterling said nothing for an instant, but something in his posture tensed.

"What a fine son-in-law you are…" — there was a trace of sarcasm in that response. "And what if I told you I couldn't give you the medication?"

Nathan felt the air leave his lungs.

"Sir, I understand it's not your obligation, but my mother-in-law's life depends on that medication… and, in a way, so does my marriage. I imagine, having a wife yourself, you can understand that."

The silence in the grand room turned uncomfortable.

And suddenly, that silence broke with a sharp thud against the armrest.

"I'm not married." — His voice was clipped. — "I don't know the first thing about women."

Nathan lowered his head, uneasy. A strange feeling began settling in his chest. He hadn't seen the man's face… but his voice…

It struck him as unsettlingly familiar.

"Forgive me, sir… perhaps we could reschedule the meeting—"

"No, Nathan." — The voice stopped him cold. — "This is the only time I have available."

Nathan took a deep breath. Nodded.

And the armchair began to turn.

It was slow. Almost ceremonious.

First the arm, then the shoulder, then the profile of a face Nathan took a moment to recognize, because it couldn't be, because it hadn't existed for him in five years, because the last time he'd seen it, it hadn't been wearing a suit, hadn't spoken with that calm, hadn't looked at him that way.

The briefcase fell from his hands.

"D-Damon…"

The man watched him steadily.

"Nathan… it's been a long time."

Nathan didn't move. He couldn't. Five years, and there he was, as if nothing had happened, as if time had simply decided to reverse itself without warning. Memories never asked permission. Everything around him became irrelevant. The briefcase was on the floor, but he didn't remember dropping it. Only that face existed. Those eyes. And everything he'd buried along with them.

Damon didn't flinch. He rose from the armchair unhurried. Walked slowly, circling him, measuring each step. His eyes traveled over Nathan from head to toe, openly, unhurried. An inspection. A confirmation. He was still the same.

"You took a while to recognize me," he murmured near his ear.

Nathan shuddered. His body reacted before his mind did.

"I… I…" he tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

"Tell me," Damon went on, not pulling back, "you don't have my number anymore?"

Nathan lowered his gaze, unable to hold his eyes.

"Of course I have it."

"Then wh