Say I Love You When We Meet Again

sunset, stretched across an endless golden field. The wheat swayed in a gentle, hypnotic rhythm, each stalk whispering secrets against its neighbor in a breeze that felt less like air

dreams and a nameless sadness. But as she stepped onto the gleaming silver train, she couldn't shake the oppressive sense that something immense was looming on the horizon. The familiar feeling of waiting was intensifying, coiling in her stomach like a spring. The air itself felt charged, thick with potential energy. Everything, her entire life, was about to change. She knew it with a certainty that terrified her. Ardent Corp towered above the rest of the city's skyline like a cold, magnificent cathedral of glass and ambition. Where the buildings in Rosehill were warm brick and aged wood, this was all sharp angles and reflective surfaces, a monument to power and progress. The lobby was a study in intimidating opulence: acres of veined white marble floor so polished she could see her own anxious reflection, a sleek, abstract modern sculpture of twisted chrome that dominated the center of the space, and a sterile, expensive scent of lemon-tinged leather and crisp citrus that hung in the perfectly climate-controlled air. Everyone moved with a fierce, unswerving purpose: sharp stiletto heels clicking a staccato rhythm, low, urgent voices discussing mergers and acquisitions, phones and tablets glued to hands and ears. She approached the vast security desk, her small voice almost swallowed by the cavernous space. "Amara Valencia. I'm here for the internship program." The guard, impeccably uniformed, scanned a list, found her name, and handed her a temporary badge. She clutched the plastic card like a lifeline, her thumb tracing the letters. Amara Valencia. Intern, Design Division. It felt both unreal and like the most real thing that had ever happened to her. The elevator was a silent, mirrored capsule that shot skyward with a stomach-lurching speed. She was alone, confronted by a dozen reflections of herself each version looking just as wide-eyed, nervous, and out of place as the real one. She smoothed down her dress, took a steadying breath, and tried to project a confidence she did not feel. When the doors slid open with a near-silent whoosh, she stepped into a different world. The top-floor executive suite was a study in minimalist luxury and profound silence. There were no clacking keyboards, no ringing phones, no hushed conversations. The walls were panels of dark, polished stone, and one entire side of the floor was made of floor-to-ceiling windows, revealing a breathtaking, dizzying sweep of Velinora City laid out like a map below. The air was still and cool. At the far end of the vast, open space, a figure stood silhouetted against the immense window, his back to her, perfectly still, watching the city. He didn't move as she entered, her soft-soled shoes making no sound on the plush charcoal carpet. The silence stretched, becoming oppressive. She felt like an intruder in a sacred space. Amara cleared her throat, the sound absurdly loud in the quiet. "Mr. Ardent?" He turned. And the world stopped. Their eyes met. Her breath caught, strangled in her throat. All the air was sucked from the room. The meticulously designed office, the panoramic view, the very ground beneath her feet it all blurred into a meaningless smear of color. All that existed were his eyes. Silver-gray. The exact shade from her dreams. The same stormy, moonlit color. They were colder here, harder, unreadable... but the shape, the intensity, the very soul behind them was devastatingly, impossibly familiar. It was a recognition that hit her not in her mind, but in her bones, in her blood, a seismic tremor that tore through her chest and left her dizzy. For a heart-stopping moment, she was back in the golden field, the wheat whispering, the ache of loss a physical wound. Leo Ardent took a slow, deliberate step forward, his face a mask of perfect, composed neutrality. But his eyes... his eyes were doing something else entirely. They were scanning her face with an intensity that was almost violent, drinking in every detail as if he were a man dying of thirst and she was an oasis. "You're late," he said. But his voice wasn't irritated or accusatory. It was... distant. hollow. Shaken. Like he'd just seen a ghost and was struggling to maintain his footing in the real world. "I-" She shook herself, forcing her brain to form words, to engage with reality. "I'm sorry. The elevator, the security desk it took longer than I" He waved a dismissive hand, a gesture so effortlessly commanding it silenced her immediately. But he didn't stop staring. His gaze was a physical weight, pinning her in place. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could see it hammering against the fabric of her dress. The question rose from the deepest, most instinctual part of her, bypassing all filters of professionalism and propriety. "Have we..." she began, her voice barely a whisper. "Have we met before?" It was a insane thing to ask the CEO of a billion-dollar corporation during an internship interview. It was the question of a lovestruck fan or a complete lunatic. But she couldn't help it. The words were torn from her. A muscle in Leo's jaw tightened, a minute flicker of tension that was the only crack in his impeccable armor. His eyes finally broke away from hers, glancing out at t