His After The Heartbreak (BL) Chapter 243: Who Is That?

Chapter 243- Who Is That?

Logan’s POV

The mont I heard the voice, my head stayed down.

Why does it sound so familiar?

It couldn’t be.

Maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on . Maybe I’d been thinking about the past too much lately, and now my own imagination was trying to ss with .

I kept my head bowed, pretending to check my phone, but my thoughts weren’t on the screen at all.

Then the voice ca again—clearer this ti.

"Hello. Are you the one I’m supposed to et today?"

My chest tightened.

It’s the sa voice. The sa tone. The sa way of speaking.

It can’t be, right?

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my heartbeat. But it wouldn’t listen. It just kept pounding harder and harder, like it wanted to break through my ribs.

No. I can’t be that unlucky. The chances of it being him... they’re impossible.

Still, I had to be sure.

I slowly raised my head, bracing myself for whatever I was about to see.

Relief washed over like cold water.

It wasn’t him.

Not even close.

I exhaled quietly, almost laughing at myself for overthinking.

But then... why did he sound like Tyler?

I narrowed my eyes, studying him carefully. The man in front of looked different—different hair, different build. And yet, that voice...

It had to be so kind of déjà vu. My brain was probably just desperate to connect dots that weren’t there. It’s been years since I last heard Tyler’s voice—maybe I’ve just forgotten what it really sounds like.

Still, I couldn’t stop wondering.

The man was staring at now. No blinking. No expression. Just... frozen.

I gave him a polite smile. "Is everything okay?"

He stamred, "Y-yeah. Everything is okay."

That didn’t convince at all.

"Are you sure?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded quickly but didn’t et my eyes. It was like sothing was bothering him, but he was too afraid to say it.

"Suit yourself," I muttered under my breath, leaning back in my chair. My mind was racing.

Why was he acting like this? A minute ago, his voice was confident—loud even—asking if I was the one he was eting. Now he looked nervous. Sweaty.

It’s not my problem. I didn’t co here to play detective. I ca here to close a deal.

I pushed the weird tension aside and opened the folder in front of . "Alright, let’s get started," I said, moving straight into the proposal.

"Our companies would both invest ten million dollars each into the project. In total, twenty million. The organization we’re building has the potential to double that—maybe even more. We’re looking at a projected return of forty to forty-five million if everything is executed perfectly.

My side will handle the production line, the marketing strategies, and the resource managent. Yours will oversee supply distribution and international connections. If we both commit to this equally, the profit margin will be massive."

I glanced at him. He wasn’t saying anything.

"So... what do you have to say, Mr...?" I trailed off, waiting for him to give his na.

Silence.

I looked up fully this ti.

He wasn’t even sitting down.

I frowned. "Is there... a problem?"

He looked pale. His breathing seed shallow, like the air around us had suddenly gotten too heavy for him.

Why was he acting like this? Was it ? Sothing I said? Or was there sothing else in the room that I wasn’t seeing?

I blad myself a little for diving straight into business without even doing the basics. I hadn’t even shaken his hand. We hadn’t exchanged nas.

Where are my manners?

The thought hit suddenly. Here I was, talking about numbers and profit margins, and I hadn’t even shaken the man’s hand. That’s not how you start a partnership.

I stood up from my chair, pushing it back slowly, and stretched my hand out toward him.

"Let’s start this properly," I said.

He just... looked at .

He was staring like he’d just seen sothing impossible—like I was a ghost that had walked into the room.

I didn’t care to figure it out right now. The faster we got through this, the better.

So I reached forward and took his hand myself.

The mont I touched it, sothing strange happened.

It was soft. Very soft.

For a second, I just stood there holding his hand, and mories I thought I’d buried years ago ca rushing back—mories of him.

Tyler.

The voice earlier had already made think of him. Now, the hand was doing the sa thing.

No. I shook the thought away. It couldn’t be Tyler. This man didn’t look like him. Not exactly.

Sure, it’s been years, and people change. But still—shouldn’t there be sothing? So small feature I’d recognize? A smile line, the shape of the eyes... sothing?

I tried letting go of his hand but his grip tightened on my hand refusing to let go.

I let out a forced smile as I dragged my hands off his grips and he finally let go.

Why is he acting awkward and weird?

"My na is Mr. Milo," I said calmly trying to push that thought off my mind.

Not my real na. Well, not exactly. Milo is my middle na, the one I started using after I left the country. A clean break from the past.

The mont I said it, I saw a change in him. His shoulders loosened. His eyes softened. Just like that, the tension was gone.

So... why had he been so nervous before?

I decided not to care. Not my problem.

"And my na is Mr. Timothy Telson Tyrus," he said. Or at least... I think that’s what he said.

The words tumbled out of his mouth, and I couldn’t catch a single clear one. It was like he gave three different nas all at once.

"Right..." I muttered. I’d just have to ask him again later. No way was I going to call him Mr. Timothy Telson Tyrus every ti.

We both sat down again. I slid the folder across the table toward him. "Here. This has the breakdown of our plan. Go through it at your own pace."

He nodded, took it, and started flipping through the pages.

I sat there watching him for a mont before he handed his own folder. I took it, glanced over the top sheet. It looked exactly how I expected—professional, thorough, no red flags.

"Once I get back to my hotel, I’ll read this properly," I told him. "If I’m okay with it, and you’re okay with mine, we move to the next stage."

He nodded again, quiet as ever.

We both stood at the sa ti. I reached out for a handshake to close the eting and he did sa when sothing slipped from the stack of papers he was holding.

It fluttered to the floor like a leaf.

"I’m so sorry," he said quickly, crouching down to pick it up.

Why is he so clumsy and unprofessional?

Hopefully I am not going to end up regretting why I partner with him.

I bent down too, instinctively. And that’s when I saw it.

A photo.

I froze.

It was... familiar.

My breath caught in my chest. My eyes stayed locked on it.

The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"Who is that?"