A live interview was being broadcast.
There, in the center of the screen, stood Noah–composed, polsed, radiating confidence.
Like a star in a sea of flashing cameras, he was surrounded by media, every lens hungering to capture his slightest expression, his
subtlest movement.
His tailored suit fit him flawlessly, the sharp lines flowing from his broad shoulders down to his long legs. Not a single crease was out of place–every detail exuded precision, sophistication, and an effortless sense of power,
It had been two years since we last saw each other at the airport.
Since then, we only exchanged occasional holiday greetings.
But I knew he had come to see me.
Even if he never got close, even if he only stood from a distance, I still recognized him immediately.
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+15 BONUS
For a moment, I was lost in thought.
Then, suddenly, a sharp sting shot through my wrist.
I turned, startled, to see my colleague gripping my wrist tightly, her excitement barely contained.
“Wow, Miss Sanders, that man is really handsome!”
I glanced at the screen where Noah’s face filled the frame and nodded.
“He is.”
A journalist in the crowd below asked, “Mr. Wells, you’ve been actively donating to schools over the past two years. What inspired
you to do so?”
Noah smiled lightly.
“I just hope we can work together to give more children access to education.”
Another reporter followed up, “Mr. Wells, I’ve covered several of your interviews, and I’ve noticed you always wear that watch.
Was it a gift from your wife?”
My gaze locked onto the watch on Noah’s wrist, and in an instant, my eyes welled with tears.
That was the watch I had deliberately left in his car the day I flew away.
Noah lowered his head slightly, his eyes resting on the timepiece.
The leather strap hugged his skin, the dial catching the light in a soft glow.
For a moment, memories flooded over him–laughter, stolen glances, whispered conversations, and unspoken emotions.
Every moment we had shared, flickering like stars in the vast night sky of his mind.
After a few seconds, he lifted his head again, smiled at the camera, and answered, “Yes, it was a gift from my wife.”
My right hand instinctively reached for the ring on my left ring finger.
The smooth surface of the diamond felt cool against my fingertips.
Noticing my movement, my colleague’s eyes widened with admiration.
“Miss Sanders, your wedding ring is stunning.”
“My wedding ring?”
“Of course! A diamond ring on the left ring finger–it’s obviously a wedding ring.”
I paused for a brief moment.
Then, lifting my head, I looked at Noah on the screen and let a soft smile curve my lips.
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“Yes, it was a gift from my husband.”
(The End)
