The weekend faded like snow and everyone got busy forgetting the outstanding party. Lewis sat elegantly with the board members discussing the opening and the success of the new company.
His mood was so and so and each and every person chose the best words to say,
"The garden is not as I said… did you people look at the drawing as to how it was explained,
The sun shone through the room, its rays reflecting off the polished surface of the table where the man sat at the head. His body was present, but his mind was scattered, drifting like drops of rain.
Her small frame had fit against his like shoes, perfectly in place. She was drunk, yes, but it seemed like she was trying to prove something.
He had been more than happy to have her in that state. But just as quickly as she had come to him, she left like the night had never happened at all.
The conversation in the boardroom droned on, a stark contrast to the memories of the night before. The men around the table spoke in technicalities, discussing placements for new items that hadn't even been bought yet, as if each word held the weight of a million-dollar decision.
But he could barely focus. The hum of the projector seemed distant, and the figures on the presentation slid by without meaning. His mind kept returning to her…her absence, her lingering presence in his thoughts.
He could hear her laughter echoing in his mind, the way she had leaned into him, so close and vulnerable. Yet now, just like everything else in his life, it felt distant, intangible. As if she had been a dream he couldn't hold on to.
The boardroom fell into an uneasy silence, the air thick with the weight of unspoken thoughts. Lewis sat at the head of the table, his gaze fixed on the presentation screen, though his mind was far from the numbers being presented. He exuded the kind of cold authority that made the others cautious, each of them choosing their words carefully, aware that even the slightest misstep could be met with disdain.
"Perhaps we should consider expanding the layout in the eastern sector," suggested one of the senior executives, his voice tentative. "The demographics in that area could align well with our brand's vision."
Lewis didn't respond immediately, his fingers tapping lightly against the table, the only sign of life in his otherwise still demeanour. The man shifted uncomfortably under Lewis's silence.
Another board member, a younger analyst, cleared his throat. "We could also explore some partnerships—expand our reach before we commit fully to this placement."
Lewis's eyes flicked toward him, sharp and calculating, but still, he said nothing. The tension in the room grew thicker, the air charged with uncertainty.
"Do you have anything to add, Lewis?" the CFO asked carefully, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.
Lewis's gaze remained fixed on the board members, a slight frown tugging at his lips. "We'll proceed with the research," he said, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. "Until we know exactly what we're dealing with, no decisions will be made."
The room exhaled collectively, and the conversation moved forward tentative, controlled, and restrained.
"The meeting will continue tonight, in a video call," he dismissed, standing and walking out before any of them had a chance to respond. His footsteps echoed through the room, his coldness leaving a heavy silence in his wake.
For a moment, the room stood still each board member frozen, unsure of how to react. Then, one by one, they began to file out, their expressions filled with quiet dissatisfaction. It wasn't just the abrupt end to the meeting; it was the unspoken tension, the realization that their CEO's mind was somewhere far beyond the numbers, and none of them were sure they wanted to be part of the fallout when his thoughts finally returned to business.