“Let’s not dwell on the past Mr Knight.”

Sebastian stood frozen, staring at the door long after it had closed behind Sophia. The meeting had gone well—on paper—but he felt as though he'd lost a battle he hadn't even realized he was fighting.

For the rest of the day, he moved through his responsibilities mechanically, barely registering the conversations around him. His thoughts were consumed by the memory of Sophia: the way she carried herself, the coolness in her voice, the finality in her goodbye.

When Marco entered his office that evening with a stack of files, he found Sebastian staring out of the window, a glass of scotch in his hand.

"Everything okay, sir?" Marco asked cautiously, setting the papers on the desk.

Sebastian didn't turn around. "Have you ever had something within your grasp," he said quietly, "and let it slip through your fingers, only to realize later it was the one thing you needed most?"