Imperial Grand Hotel, Randall’s Suite

Yvette entered the luxurious suite where Randall was staying. The moment she stepped inside, Randall greeted her with a warm smile, his eyes full of the same kindness she had always admired. He had always been a humble man, someone who never let his wealth or status change his values.

Randall (grinning): "Yvette! It's been a while. You look well."

Yvette forced a smile, sitting down across from him. For years, she had convinced herself that Randall was the perfect man for her. But now, looking at him, something felt… off. Not about him, but about her own emotions.

Yvette (smoothly): "It has been a long time, Randall. How was your trip?"

Randall chuckled, leaning back. "Oh, it was incredible! I saw so many breathtaking places, but you won't believe who I ran into."

Yvette's fingers clenched slightly. "Who?"

Randall smiled. "Owen."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Owen? Where?"

Randall (laughing): "In the Himalayas, of all places! You should've seen him, Yvette. That man is living like an absolute warrior. Waking up before dawn, exercising in freezing weather, taking baths in ice-cold rivers… I even saw him writing poetry about life. It was… inspiring, really."

Yvette's lips parted slightly. "Poetry?" She had never known Owen to write poetry. She had never even thought he had the depth for it.

Randall (nodding): "Yeah. One morning, I saw him sitting under a tree, just writing. I asked him about it, and he said something that really stuck with me. He said, 'A man who conquers his own mind has already won the greatest war.'"

Yvette felt a strange sensation in her chest—one she couldn't quite place. She had always looked at Owen as someone weak, someone beneath her. But now? Hearing Randall, of all people, admire him so much—it unsettled her.

Randall (smiling): "Honestly, Yvette, Owen has changed. He's not the same person from before. It's almost like… he's discovered something we haven't."

Yvette felt her throat tighten. "Did he… say anything about me?"

Randall blinked, thinking for a moment. "Not really. He seemed… at peace. I don't think he holds grudges, if that's what you're asking."

That answer hit Yvette harder than she expected. No grudges? No bitterness? After everything? She had spent so long believing Owen was obsessed with her, that he would never truly let her go. But now, it felt like… she had been the one holding on.

She straightened her posture, pushing the thought away. "Randall, I asked to meet you because… I want to be with you."

Randall's friendly smile faltered slightly. "Be with me?"

Yvette (softly): "Yes. You're the one I've always wanted, Randall. Now that you're back… I don't want to waste any more time."**

Randall looked surprised, rubbing the back of his head. "Yvette, that's… unexpected. I never thought—"

Before he could finish, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and smiled.

Randall: "Oh, one second. It's a message from Owen. He sent me a poem."

Yvette's chest tightened.

Randall read it aloud with a small chuckle:

"Some chase gold, some chase power,

Some chase love, fleeting as a flower.

But a man who seeks truth, no matter the pain,

Will walk alone, yet never in vain."

Randall sighed. "Owen really has changed, hasn't he?"

Randall set his phone down and looked at Yvette with a conflicted expression. Her confession had caught him off guard, but Owen's transformation lingered in his mind more than anything.

Randall (softly): "Yvette… I won't lie. This is unexpected."

Yvette kept her gaze firm, though something inside her wavered. "Why? I thought you'd be happy."

Randall sighed, rubbing his temples before leaning forward. "It's not that simple. We've known each other for years, and you were always focused on Owen. Even when you were angry at him, even when you treated him like nothing—he was always in your life. And now, after he's truly walked away… you suddenly turn to me?"

Yvette stiffened. "You think I'm using you?"

Randall hesitated but shook his head. "I don't know. But Yvette… do you even know what Owen has become?"

She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Randall exhaled sharply and stood up, pacing slightly as if searching for the right words. "When I met Owen in the Himalayas, I saw a man who was no longer himself. Or maybe… he was becoming something else entirely. He didn't just train his body—he was breaking himself down, reshaping himself into someone unrecognizable. It was terrifying."

Yvette crossed her arms, masking her unease. "He was weak before. Now he's just trying to be strong."

Randall shot her a sharp look. "You don't understand. Strength wasn't his goal—he was trying to erase who he used to be. I saw it in his eyes, Yvette. I saw it when I noticed his missing ring finger."

Yvette flinched slightly at the mention of it. She had never forgotten the moment she saw his hand, how cold and detached he had been.

Randall (quietly): "Do you know what that meant? Cutting off that finger?"

She remained silent.

Randall: "It wasn't just an oath to his new life. It was a declaration that he would never return to his old one. He didn't even flinch when I asked him about it—just smiled faintly and said, 'Some bonds must be cut so new paths can be made.'"

Yvette's breath hitched slightly.

Randall looked at her seriously. "Owen isn't fighting for revenge, or for you, or even for some noble cause. He's fighting for something even more dangerous—an identity beyond everything he once was. And that scares me, Yvette. Because I'm afraid that one day, there won't be anything left of the Owen we knew."

For the first time, Yvette felt something foreign creeping into her heart. Guilt? Regret? Fear? She wasn't sure.

Yvette (quietly): "So… you're rejecting me?"

Randall gave her a sad smile. "I respect you, Yvette. And I care about you. But I can't be with you knowing that your heart is tangled in something you don't even understand yet. And besides…" he exhaled, "I can't get Owen's face out of my mind. That man is walking straight into something none of us can stop. And I don't know if he's going to survive it."

Yvette clenched her fists. She had always thought Owen was the weak one. The pathetic one. The one who would never leave her shadow.

But now, it felt like she was the one chasing him.