THE UNEXPECTED.

ORION.

As I scribbled my signature on the last of the documents, a nagging realization crept up on me - I had forgotten about lunch. But the truth was, hunger was the last thing on my mind. I let out a deep sigh and leaned back in my chair, the soft creak of the leather a familiar comfort. Just as I was starting to relax, the shrill ring of my office phone pierced the air, shattering the brief moment of calm.

"Yes?" I answered, my voice firm and professional, as my secretary's voice came through the line.

"Mr. Bishop is here for you, sir," she announced, her tone crisp and efficient.

I felt a flicker of surprise. Sebastian always called ahead to let me know he was coming. Why the deviation from routine this time? "Let him in" I replied, pushing the thought aside and stood up to greet him, smoothing out my suit jacket as I did so.

But as the door swung open, my eyes widened in shock. It wasn't Sebastian standing in the doorway, but Harro. He was beaming at me with a radiant smile, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. My mind reeled as I struggled to process the sudden appearance of the man I'd missed so much.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, trying to keep my tone neutral despite the turmoil brewing inside me. "How did you get here?" The questions tumbled out of my mouth in rapid succession, my eyes locked on Harro's as I searched for answers.

"A car brought me here," Harro said with the same sass he'd always used when speaking with me, before his memories of me had slipped away. My heart skipped a beat as he walked towards the seat in front of my desk, his confident stride eating up the distance. He sat down, crossing his legs as he looked at me with an air of nonchalance.

"Did you know there's very little about you on the Internet?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. I raised my brows, intrigued by his statement, as I settled back into my seat.

"You're all work and no play, Orion," he said, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down my spine. My heart racing, I felt a rush of excitement at the sound of my name on his lips.

He spoke again, his words tumbling out in a rush. "All my digging didn't yield much results, and my dad wouldn't tell me anything important about you. I thought you two were friends?" He asked, his brow furrowed in a pout, and I almost laughed despite my shock at his sudden appearance.

But my mind was racing with questions. Did his father deliberately limit the information he shared with him about me? The thought sent a pang of unease through me, but I pushed it aside, focusing on the present.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him again, my voice firm, trying to hide the turmoil brewing inside me. I leaned forward, my eyes locked on his, searching for answers, I wanted to touch him.

"Oh, I wanted to see you," Harro said, his voice matter-of-fact, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, despite the fact that he didn't even remember me. I felt a pang of surprise, mixed with a dash of curiosity.

"Are you well enough to move around like this?" I asked him, my worry for his health creeping in. I couldn't help but think about the fragile state he'd been in just a couple of weeks ago.

"Don't worry about me, I'm stronger than I look," he said, his eyes locking onto mine, narrowing ever so slightly with curiosity. There was a spark in his gaze that made my heart skip a beat.

"Why did you want to see me?" I asked him, trying to understand his reason for being here. He smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"I was curious about you," he said, his voice low and husky. I chuckled, my heart swooning at the familiar words. This was exactly how our relationship had started last time - him being curious about me, wanting me. A shiver ran down my spine as I wondered: Is this some kind of cruel joke or fate? Was the universe giving us a second chance, or was this just a twisted repetition of history?

"And what about me exactly piqued your curiosity?" I asked him, deciding to play along with his inquisitive mind. Harro's eyes sparkled with mischief as he replied.

"For one, my dad said you two are friends, and yet it seems he's keeping me away from you. Secondly, I couldn't believe I'd never met you before... with a face like that, you're hot!" he said, his words dripping with confidence, making me raise my brows in amusement.

"You have no issues speaking your mind, do you?" I asked him, chuckling at the same brazenness I found sexy.

"We're both adults, there's no point playing around with words," he replied cheekily, his grin infectious. Of course, I was familiar with how he voiced his thoughts - he'd always been bold and confident.

But despite my better judgment, I knew I had to try to keep him at arm's length. "I think you should do what your father wants and stay away from me," I managed to say, even though my heart broke at the words. Harro's expression changed, his brows rising in amusement.

"You make it sound like I'm a child," he replied, his voice laced with humor, as he rested his chin on his hand, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I want to be your friend," he said, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. "I can't do that while staying away from you now, can I?" Now it was my turn to be amused, my heart skipping a beat at the prospect of having him around.

"What makes you think I would want to be your friend?" I asked, trying to maintain a neutral tone, but deep down, I was freaking over the moon. I really wanted to be his friend, even if that's all I could be to him.

Harro pondered my question, his expression serious, before a slow, dazzling smile spread across his face. "Because I'm young, rich, and handsome?" he said proudly, making me laugh quietly.

"Are those your only selling points?" I asked, amused by his confidence.

"That's what people usually like about me," he replied with a shrug, his eyes sparkling with mischief. I shook my head, basking in this playful conversation.

"Well, I'm not most people," I told him, just to see how he'd react.

"I'm starting to see that now," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of curiosity, his brow furrowed in a pout. He bit his bottom lip, deep in thought, something he only did when he was unsure of what to do next. My heart warmed at the sight of him, and I felt a pang of affection for this beautiful, intriguing man I have missed like crazy and now he's sitting right there and all I want to do is hug him.

He looked alright, just as his father had described from his updates- a bit slimmer, perhaps, but his broken arm healed and with a coat that seemed a little too big for him. The beanie covering his head was likely a result of his hair still growing back from the surgery. I yearned to ask him a multitude of questions, to tell him how much I'd missed him, but I knew better than to overwhelm him. So I held my tongue, biting back the words that threatened to spill out.

Harro's hands moved deftly as he scribbled something on a piece of paper, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He handed me the paper, his fingers brushing against mine and we both shivered from the impact. "That's my number, text me," he said, his voice low and smooth, as he stood up, prompting me to do the same.

"I enjoyed talking to you, but I have to go now. It's time for my afternoon medicine, or my dad will fuss," he said, his smile brightening the room. His phone alarm went off on cue, and he added, "I'm supposed to be driving around the neighborhood for some fresh air."

As he walked towards the door, my legs seemed to move of their own accord, carrying me towards him. He pushed open the door, revealing a towering figure in a suit, who looked like he'd kill anyone who dared approach Harro. The man's eyes scanned me briefly before returning to Harro, his expression unyielding.

Harro turned to me, his smile radiant. "Don't forget to text me," he reminded me, before allowing the man to lead him into the elevator. As the doors slid shut, Harro's smiling face disappeared from view, taking my heart with him.

I stood there, frozen, trying to wrap my head around what had just transpired. Finally, I shook off the haze and walked back into my office, dropping into my seat, feeling emotions rushed through me like I'd been punched in the gut.