At exactly five forty-five, Kai checked the time. Then he immediately regretted it. He was standing behind the restaurant counter, pretending to organize receipts while his attention remained fixed on the entrance. Six o’clock was still fifteen minutes away. He had told himself that meeting Adrian for one hour didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t a promise. It was simply two people finding time for each other between responsibilities. So why had he changed his shirt twice before leaving university? Why had he spent five minutes fixing his hair? And why was he now staring at the door like an impatient idiot? “Kai.” He looked up. Mr. Lewis stood beside the register. “If you’re planning to intimidate the entrance, at least wipe the tables afterward.” “I’m working.” “You’re watching the door.” “I’m making sure customers don’t enter.” “That’s usually the opposite of what restaurants want.” Kai picked up a cloth. Mr. Lewis shook his head, amused. “Your friend coming?” Kai paused. “Which friend?” “The one you keep pretending isn’t important.” Kai’s face tightened. “You’re spending too much time observing me.” “I’m your manager. Observing employees is part of the job.” “Harassment is also illegal.” “Go wipe the table.” Kai muttered something under his breath and walked away. But his eyes returned to the entrance. ⸻ At five fifty-two, Adrian was still in a meeting. The discussion had taken an unexpected turn when the overseas facility requested additional guarantees before accepting the production agreement. The legal team had prepared three alternatives. None of them were simple. Adrian glanced at his watch. Five fifty-three. He had promised Kai six o’clock. Not confidently. Not carelessly. But he had promised to do everything he could. And now, despite his best efforts, he was running out of time. “Send the revised documents to their legal department,” he said, gathering the papers. “I’ll review their response tonight.” One of the directors looked surprised. “You’re leaving?” “I have somewhere to be.” The director glanced at the clock. “We still have several points to discuss.” “Then schedule another meeting.” “Mr. Blake—” Adrian looked at him. The director stopped speaking. Marcus, standing near the door, checked his own watch. When Adrian approached, Marcus handed him his coat. “Your car is waiting.” “How long?” “Twenty minutes to the restaurant, depending on traffic.” Adrian’s expression darkened. He had calculated fifteen. “Tell the driver to take the fastest route.” Marcus nodded. Then added, “And if you arrive late?” Adrian looked at him. “I’ll apologize.” Marcus smiled slightly. “Remarkable. Personal growth.” “Marcus.” “Leaving.” ⸻ At six o’clock, Kai was no longer pretending not to wait. He stood outside the restaurant, his hands tucked into his pockets. The evening air carried the scent of rain. Cars moved slowly along the road, their headlights flashing across the pavement. He checked his phone. No message. Six-oh-two. Still nothing. Kai looked toward the road. He told himself that traffic was unpredictable. Six-oh-seven. He looked at his phone again. His thumb hovered over Adrian’s name. He could call. There was nothing wrong with calling. Except that he didn’t want to sound as though he had been waiting. Which he had. “Idiot,” he muttered. His phone finally vibrated. Adrian: I’m sorry. I’m delayed. I’ll be there as soon as possible. Kai read the message. His first reaction was relief. His second was disappointment. He typed: Kai: How delayed? The response came after a minute. Adrian: Twenty minutes. Possibly more. Kai stared at the screen. Twenty minutes wasn’t long. Not really. But the hour they had planned was already short. By the time Adrian arrived, there might be barely enough time to speak before he had to leave again. Kai typed: Kai: Don’t rush. He hesitated. Then added: Kai: We can do it another day. Adrian’s reply came immediately. Adrian: Do you want that? Kai looked away from the phone. That was the problem. He didn’t. Kai: You have work. Adrian: I asked if you wanted to reschedule. Kai pressed his lips together. Kai: No. Three seconds later: Kai: I mean, yes. I mean— He stopped typing. A new message appeared. Adrian: Kai. Kai sighed. Kai: Just come if you can. Adrian didn’t reply. The silence that followed felt different from their usual silence. Not peaceful. Not patient. Uncertain. Kai placed his phone in his pocket and returned inside. ⸻ At six twenty-four, Adrian’s car finally pulled up near the restaurant. He stepped out before the driver had fully reached the curb. His suit jacket was unbuttoned, his tie loosened, and his expression was sharper than usual. Kai saw him through the window. For one brief second, relief moved through him. Then he remembered the time. Adrian entered the restaurant and immediately found him near the back entrance. “I’m sorry.” Kai shrugged. “It’s fine.” Adrian’s gaze settled on his face. “Don’t say that if it isn’t.” Kai looked away. “You made it.” “I said I would.” “You were late.” “I know.” Kai wasn’t prepared for the direct admission. He had expected Adrian to explain the meeting, the supplier, the company, and every reason he had been delayed. Instead, Adrian simply stood there and accepted it. Kai crossed his arms. “You have twenty-five minutes.” “I know.” “Maybe less, depending on how long you spend looking intimidating.” Adrian’s mouth moved slightly. “Are you hungry?” Kai blinked. “What?” “Have you eaten?” “You’re unbelievable.” “That’s not an answer.” Kai looked toward the kitchen. “No.” Adrian glanced at the nearby table. “Then sit down.” Kai’s expression immediately changed. “Don’t order anything expensive.” “I wasn’t going to.” “And don’t pay for my food.” Adrian paused. “Kai.” “I mean it.” “I heard you.” “Good.” They sat at a small table near the window. Adrian didn’t order anything extravagant. He asked for two simple meals and water, then placed his phone face down. Kai noticed. “You can leave it on.” “I’m here with you.” “You have a meeting.” “At seven.” “It’s six twenty-seven.” Adrian looked at the clock. “Then we have thirty-three minutes.” Kai tried not to smile. “You calculated that quickly.” “I’m good with numbers.” “Congratulations.” The food arrived a few minutes later. For a while, they ate in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but Kai could sense Adrian’s exhaustion beneath his controlled expression. There were faint shadows beneath his eyes. His shoulders were tense. He kept flexing his fingers against the side of his glass as if his body hadn’t yet left the conference room. Kai lowered his fork. “How bad is it?” Adrian looked at him. “The company?” “Obviously.” Adrian leaned back. “One of our suppliers withdrew from the agreement. We’re trying to secure another production facility before the hospitals are affected.” “Can you solve it?” “Probably.” Kai raised an eyebrow. “That’s a very arrogant answer.” “It’s a realistic one.” “There’s a difference?” “Sometimes.” Kai studied him. “And if you can’t?” Adrian’s expression became more serious. “Then we’ll deal with the consequences.” Kai nodded slowly. He understood that answer more than he wanted to. No matter how wealthy or powerful Adrian was, there were still problems he couldn’t simply command into disappearing. For the first time, Kai saw the pressure Adrian carried without the protection of his usual cold expression. “You should sleep,” Kai said. Adrian looked at him. “So should you.” “I’m younger.” “That doesn’t make you invincible.” “You’re just jealous.” “Of what?” “My youth.” Adrian stared at him for a moment. Then he laughed. It was brief, quiet, and tired. But it was real. Kai felt the familiar warmth spread through his chest. He had missed that sound. More than he wanted to admit. ⸻ At six forty-five, Adrian’s phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen. Marcus. Adrian answered. “Yes?” Kai continued eating, pretending not to listen. Adrian’s expression tightened. “Send it to my email.” A pause. “No. Don’t authorize anything until I review the terms.” Another pause. “I said I’ll review them.” He ended the call. Kai set down his fork. “Go.” Adrian looked at him. “What?” “Your meeting.” “It’s not seven yet.” “You need time to get there.” “I have time.” “Kai—” “Adrian.” The firmness in his voice made Adrian stop. Kai leaned back in his chair. “You came here because you wanted to see me. I know that.” Adrian remained silent. “But you also have a company that apparently enjoys collapsing whenever you try to have a personal life.” “That’s an exaggeration.” “Is it?” Adrian looked away. Kai’s voice softened. “Go handle it.” Adrian studied him. “Are you angry?” Kai almost laughed. “No.” “You’re doing it again.” “Doing what?” “Making it sound like you’re fine when you’re not.” Kai’s smile disappeared. He looked toward the window. “I just don’t want to be another responsibility.” Adrian’s expression changed. “You aren’t.” “But you keep leaving meetings to come here.” “Because I want to.” “And if something goes wrong while you’re here?” “Then I’ll deal with it.” Kai shook his head. “You don’t understand.” “Then explain it.” Kai’s fingers tightened around the edge of the table. He hated how easily Adrian could make him feel exposed. “I don’t want you to regret choosing me when your life becomes difficult.” Adrian said nothing. Kai continued, his voice quieter. “Your company is important. Your work is important. I know that. And I don’t want you looking back one day and thinking I made everything harder.” Adrian leaned forward. “Kai, you didn’t make my life harder.” “Not yet.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Adrian’s gaze sharpened. “Is that what you think this is?” Kai didn’t answer. Adrian reached across the table, but stopped before touching him. “Look at me.” Kai did. “I don’t regret coming here.” Kai swallowed. “Even though you have a crisis?” “Even then.” “What if it gets worse?” “Then I’ll have to work harder.” “And what if you can’t give me time?” Adrian’s expression softened. “Then I’ll tell you the truth. I won’t pretend I have more time than I do.” Kai stared at him. “And you won’t expect me to wait?” “No.” The answer hurt, even though it was honest. Adrian continued, “But I also won’t expect you to disappear because I’m busy.” Kai looked down. The words were simple. Yet they reached the part of him that had been afraid to ask for anything. Adrian finally took his hand. His palm was warm. “I don’t need you to make yourself smaller so my life can fit around you,” he said. “And I don’t want you to abandon your responsibilities for me.” Kai’s throat tightened. “Then what do you want?” Adrian’s thumb moved slowly across his knuckles. “An honest answer when you miss me.” Kai’s heart stumbled. “And if I’m angry?” “Tell me.” “If I’m disappointed?” “Tell me.” “If I think you’re being arrogant and impossible?” Adrian’s eyes held a faint glimmer. “That one seems to come naturally.” Kai laughed despite himself. Adrian squeezed his hand. “I can handle the truth, Kai.” Kai looked at their joined hands. “I’ll try.” “I know.” ⸻ At six fifty-eight, Adrian stood. Kai walked him to the entrance. The rain had started, light but steady, shining beneath the streetlights. Adrian turned toward him. “I’ll call you tonight.” Kai raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure?” “No.” Kai’s expression fell slightly. Adrian continued, “But I’ll try. And if I can’t, I’ll tell you.” Kai studied him. Then nodded. “All right.” Adrian reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from Kai’s forehead. The gesture was gentle enough to make Kai forget the rain. “Eat properly,” Adrian said. Kai immediately frowned. “There it is. You ruined the moment.” Adrian smiled. “I’ll see you soon.” “Don’t make promises.” “I’m not.” Kai looked at him. Adrian’s voice lowered. “I’m telling you what I want.” For a moment, neither moved. Then Kai stepped closer and briefly rested his forehead against Adrian’s shoulder. The contact lasted only a few seconds. But Adrian went completely still. Kai pulled away before he could become embarrassed. “Go to your meeting.” Adrian’s hand closed gently around his wrist. “Kai.” “What?” “Thank you for waiting.” Kai looked at him, then smiled faintly. “I wasn’t waiting.” Adrian’s eyes warmed. “Of course you weren’t.” He released him and walked toward the car. Kai remained beneath the restaurant’s awning, watching until the vehicle disappeared into traffic. He had wanted more time. He still did. But the thirty-three minutes had given him something he hadn’t expected. Not certainty. Not a solution. Just the understanding that love—or whatever this was becoming—would not always arrive at a convenient hour. Sometimes it would come late, tired, and carrying the weight of an entire world. And sometimes, choosing it would mean learning how to remain without demanding that the other person stop being who they were. Kai turned back toward the restaurant. His phone vibrated. Adrian: I already miss you. Kai stopped walking. A smile slowly spread across his face. Kai: You’re becoming clingy. The reply came quickly. Adrian: You started it. Kai laughed. Then typed: Kai: Go save your company, old man. Adrian: Go eat dinner, troublemaker. Kai slipped his phone into his pocket. For once, he didn’t feel like he had to choose between missing Adrian and understanding him. He could do both. And perhaps that was where they would begin.

An Hour Is Still Time