Naomi stared at the flowers in awe. The sunflowers were arranged beautifully, their vibrant yellow petals and bright green leaves forming a perfect display. The sight was srizing, and Naomi couldn’t bla Zylan for having a fondness for them. They radiated a simple beauty, pure and unpretentious, sothing she hadn’t seen in a while.
"They’re so pretty," she murmured with a smile, her eyes soaking in the bright blooms. The sweet scent of the flowers lingered in the air, blending harmoniously with the sunlight that bathed the garden. It was a mont of serene beauty, one that seed almost too perfect to be real. Naomi didn’t realize she was also part of the scene—her golden hair catching the sunlight, casting a soft glow around her. In that mont, she looked like she belonged in a painting, a figure so naturally stunning that even the flowers seed to pale in comparison.
As she continued admiring the display, a mory surfaced. This was the exact flower she had been given on her wedding day. The thought made her pause. Was it given to her because it was his favorite? She wasn’t sure, but the idea lingered, and she couldn’t help but smile.
"If he really loves it, he’s a fan," she said to herself, her voice light and teasing. The thought of Zylan being a "fan" of sothing as simple as a flower amused her, and she continued, "He’s a fan because he admires the flowers, but the flowers don’t even know who he is."
The absurdity of her statent made her giggle softly. Her laughter was light and carefree, a sound so rare that it seed to brighten the already radiant garden. Naomi had no idea why she found it so amusing, but sothing about it felt right—like a tiny piece of joy she hadn’t realized she was missing.
Rylan, who had been standing quietly nearby, found himself utterly speechless. Her laughter caught him off guard, and for a mont, he forgot himself. Naomi’s beauty was otherworldly, so ethereal that it could render even the most talkative person silent. It wasn’t just her golden hair or her glowing skin—it was the way she laughed, the way her eyes sparkled with unspoken thoughts. She seed untouched by the heaviness of the world in that fleeting mont, and Rylan realized just how much his boss must treasure her.
Now he understood. His boss had made the right choice.
Naomi’s laughter eventually faded, though her smile remained. "I know he wouldn’t admit it," she said with a playful tone, "but even if I told him he was a fan, of course, he wouldn’t agree—he’s so full of pride."
Her eyes glead mischievously as she added, "A die-hard fan." The words tumbled out effortlessly, and she couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across her face. She didn’t know why teasing Zylan in his absence brought her so much joy, but it did. Maybe it was because she could picture his annoyed expression, his sharp eyes narrowing as he denied every word with that familiar arrogance. The thought made her giggle again, and she didn’t bother to suppress it.
Rylan stayed quiet, watching her with quiet admiration. She seed so at ease, so lighthearted. It was rare to see soone like her, especially given everything he knew about her life.
After a mont, Naomi turned to him, her curiosity piqued. "Do you know why he developed a liking for it?" she asked softly, her gaze drifting back to the sunflowers.
Rylan hesitated, his expression thoughtful. "I have no idea," he admitted, "but I do rember there was a day he was about to travel, and a little girl handed him one of these. At first, he didn’t take it, but she was so stubborn—and he was already running late—so he finally accepted it. Since then, he developed a liking for them."
Naomi’s eyes widened as she imagined the scene. A cute, chubby little girl, perhaps no older than six, holding out a bright yellow sunflower with unwavering determination. In her mind, Zylan stood before her, his usual stoic expression locked in place, clearly annoyed but ultimately giving in to the child’s persistence. It was an image that brought an uncontrollable smile to her face.
"That would have been so cute," she murmured, her voice soft and warm. The thought lingered in her mind, and she couldn’t help but giggle again, her amusent lighting up the garden like the sun itself.
But behind the laughter, a truth she didn’t want to acknowledge gnawed at her. Despite everything, she missed him. She missed Zylan in a way that felt both comforting and terrifying. The realization sent a shiver through her, and she pushed the thought aside, refusing to let it take root.
A soft cough interrupted her thoughts. A servant had approached Rylan and whispered sothing into his ear. Rylan nodded, his deanor shifting as he turned back to Naomi.
"Mrs. Naomi, I’ll be leaving now. There’s sothing I need to attend to," he said politely, his tone respectful.
Naomi nodded, her smile warm and understanding. "Sure, of course. Go ahead."
Rylan returned her smile with a warm yet professional nod. "It was really nice talking to you," Naomi added sincerely.
"You too, Mrs. Naomi," he replied, his voice steady but kind.
As he walked away, Naomi remained seated, her thoughts drifting. She felt a strange sense of gratitude. Rylan’s presence had been unexpected, but she was thankful for the brief distraction. At least now she knew a little sothing she could tease Zylan about. The thought made her smile again, and she rose from her seat, deciding to explore the garden further.
Not long after, Rhea arrived, carrying a tray. On it sat a teapot and a small, elegant cup. The scent of freshly brewed tea wafted through the air, rich and inviting.
"Please have so tea," Rhea said with a soft smile. "This is the one that was gifted to you and Mr. Zylan by Mirrors Coffee."
Naomi’s eyes lit up as she accepted the tray. "Thank you, thank you so much, Rhea. I hadn’t really expected this," she said, her voice warm with gratitude. The truth was, she had completely forgotten about the gift, and Rhea’s thoughtfulness touched her deeply. She couldn’t imagine what she would have done without Rhea’s steady presence. The realization filled her heart with warmth, and she smiled, grateful to have soone like Rhea by her side.
Rhea gently poured the tea into the cup, the sound of the liquid settling both soothing and rhythmic. The scent grew stronger, calming Naomi’s senses. Handing her the small plate with the cup resting on it, Rhea smiled softly.
Naomi nodded, accepting the tea with a grateful smile. She lifted the cup to her lips and took a small sip, savoring the warmth that spread through her body. The tea was smooth and rich, the perfect balance of flavors.
Trying to ease the mont, Naomi glanced at Rhea and asked curiously, "How long have you been here?"
Rhea tilted her head slightly, considering the question before answering. "Not long. I’ve been here since Mr. Zylan moved in."
Naomi paused, processing her words. From what she knew, Rhea seed to be either a year older or younger than her. The tiline didn’t quite add up, but she chose not to press further, allowing the conversation to flow naturally.
Sensing Naomi’s curiosity, Rhea continued, her voice calm and deliberate. "My mom used to work with Mr. Zylan. As I got older, she trained to work here as well. But now... she’s too old to continue. She’s basically retired." Rhea spoke slowly, her tone tinged with a mix of pride and nostalgia.
Naomi’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. "That’s aweso," she said with genuine admiration. She couldn’t help but feel a newfound respect for Rhea. Her calm deanor and steady presence were qualities Naomi deeply appreciated.
The two won sat in comfortable silence for a mont, the tea warming their hands as they sipped quietly. Yet, beneath Naomi’s composed exterior, a storm of emotions swirled. She didn’t want to admit it—not even to herself—but she missed Zylan. The weight of that realization frightened her. Missing him felt dangerous, like stepping too close to the edge of a cliff. But no matter how much she tried to suppress it, the feeling lingered, persistent and unyielding.
After finishing her tea, Naomi stood gracefully, adjusting the hem of her dress. The grand garden around her, with its marble pathways and ticulously trimd hedges, was a picture of elegance, yet she barely noticed it. The faint sound of the fountain in the distance blended with the soft chirping of birds, but her thoughts drowned out the beauty surrounding her.
She began walking back toward the mansion, the polished stone steps cool beneath her heels. The opulence of the estate was undeniable—the intricate carvings on the railings, the glistening chandeliers visible through the massive glass windows, and the faint scent of roses that lingered in the air.
As she ascended the staircase leading to the main hall, her steps slowed. Her thoughts, unbidden and unwelco, whispered loudly in her mind. She paused, her hand resting lightly on the gilded railing. The cool tal against her palm anchored her, but it couldn’t quiet the turmoil within.
"Don’t be absurd, Naomi," she whispered, her voice barely audible amidst the quiet grandeur of her surroundings. Her gaze lowered, and a bitter smile curved her lips, betraying the conflict in her heart.
"He just left," she added, almost as if saying it aloud would help her believe it.
She lingered there for a mont, the light from the crystal chandelier above casting a soft glow over her golden hair. The realization she had been suppressing gnawed at her resolve, and her shoulders sagged slightly.
"You can’t be missing him," she murmured, her voice tinged with both defiance and resignation, before continuing her ascent, the weight of her thoughts heavier than ever.
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