"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."
The tension in Julian’s shoulders snapped. The ghost of the office, the blueprints, and the cold, judgmental eyes of Chris De Wit faded into the background noise of the clinking spoons and the pouring rain. No Dejes De Besarme Por Culpa D Chris De Wit ...
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. "He says the bridge project is failing because
Julian didn't answer with words. He reached out, cupping her face, and kissed her—not with the hesitation of a subordinate, but with the hunger of a man reclaiming his life. feelings
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.
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