Chapter 111: He Finally Noticed Her

Chapter 111: Chapter 111: He Finally Noticed Her

Saturday Evening

Leo pushed through the front door of the apartment, carrying a massive cardboard box.

Chloe looked up from her laptop. She was sitting at the kitchen island. She had just gotten back from her economics firm, wearing comfortable sweatpants and an oversized college hoodie.

"What is that?" Chloe asked, narrowing her eyes at the giant box.

Leo set it down on the kitchen counter with a heavy thud. He grinned proudly. He pulled a box cutter from the drawer and sliced through the tape.

"This," Leo announced loudly, pulling away the cardboard, "is the Italian Espresso Master 5000."

Chloe stared at the massive, shining silver machine. It had three different nozzles, a built-in grinder, and a digital pressure gauge. It looked like it belonged in the cockpit of a spaceship.

"Leo," Chloe said flatly. "We already have a coffee maker."

"We have a plastic drip machine," Leo corrected. He gently plugged the massive espresso maker into the wall. It instantly beeped and lit up with bright blue LED lights. "I am a professional athlete now, Chloe. Professional football deserves professional coffee."

Chloe picked up her phone. She opened her browser and rapidly typed in the name of the machine.

Her eyes widened.

"Leo," Chloe gasped. "Do you know how many cups of coffee we would have to drink before this machine actually pays for itself?"

"Quality has no price," Leo defended smoothly, crossing his massive arms.

"Actually, it does," Chloe argued instantly. "It was exactly two thousand, four hundred dollars. Plus shipping. We would have to drink exactly six hundred and fifteen cups of coffee from a premium cafe just to break even on this purchase."

Leo looked at the machine. Then he looked at his wife.

"It makes foam," Leo offered weakly.

Chloe tried to keep her face strict, but a smile completely betrayed her. She rubbed her forehead and let out a tired laugh.

"You are absolutely ridiculous," Chloe said.

Leo grinned. He walked over, leaned down, and kissed the top of her head.

They were officially married now. They had real jobs, real money, and a beautiful apartment in the city. But absolutely nothing about them had changed. They were still exactly the same people. They had just grown up together.

Leo’s phone suddenly rang on the kitchen counter.

He walked over and answered it. "Hello? Yeah, man. It has been a while."

Chloe watched him as he leaned against the counter.

"A charity match?" Leo asked. He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I can make that work. Next weekend? Sure. Who else is going to be there?"

Leo listened to the voice on the other end of the phone. His playful smile slowly faded. His expression turned a little more serious.

"Alright," Leo said quietly. "I will see you guys there."

He hung up the phone and set it down.

"Who was that?" Chloe asked.

"An old teammate from the European league," Leo explained. "They are hosting an alumni charity match downtown next Saturday. They want me to play."

"Are you going to do it?"

"Yeah," Leo nodded. He picked up a rag and started wiping down the shiny new espresso machine. "Mason is going to be there too."

Chloe stopped typing on her laptop. She looked up at her husband.

"Mason?" Chloe asked. "You haven’t seen him in months."

"I know," Leo sighed quietly. "He is busy running the corporate side of things now. He does not have a lot of free time for charity matches."

"Is he okay?" Chloe asked gently.

Leo stopped wiping the counter. He looked out the window at the dark city skyline. He thought about the heavy, exhausted look in Mason’s eyes during their meeting at the corporate headquarters.

"He is just different now," Leo said softly.

He did not sound angry. He did not even sound sad. He just sounded incredibly distant.

The city newsroom was completely dead.

It was past ten at night. Almost all the overhead lights were turned off. The rows of reporter desks were totally empty. The cleaning staff had already emptied the trash cans and gone home.

Ben was still sitting at his desk.

His necktie was pulled loose. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows. His desk was completely buried beneath a chaotic mountain of printed papers, red markers, and empty coffee cups.

Another brutal deadline.

Ben took off his glasses and dropped them onto his keyboard. He aggressively rubbed his temples. His head was pounding. The investigative feature was completely falling apart, the layout was a mess, and his brain simply refused to shut down.

It was the exact same crushing stress he used to feel in university. Only now, it was in a much more expensive office.

Ben let out a heavy sigh. He pushed his chair back and stood up.

The night air was freezing cold.

Ben stepped out of the back exit of the newspaper building. The narrow city alley was dark and quiet.

He leaned against the brick wall. He reached deep into his wool coat pocket.

He pulled out a small, slightly crushed box of cigarettes.

He had quit for a long time. But the stress of becoming a senior editor had slowly brought the old habit right back.

Ben placed a cigarette between his lips. He pulled a silver lighter from his pocket, flicked the flame, and lit it.

He took a slow drag. He let out a long, heavy exhale, watching the white smoke disappear into the cold night air.

"You said you only smoked when the sports section was late."

Ben completely froze.

The lighter nearly slipped out of his hand.

He slowly turned his head.

Daisy was standing a few feet away. The heavy camera bag was slung over her shoulder. She was just leaving the building after finishing her late-night photo edits in the darkroom.

Ben looked at her. He felt a sudden, ridiculous wave of guilt hit his chest.

"The investigative section counts," Ben replied defensively. His voice was a little rough.

Daisy did not laugh. She did not tease him.

She walked slowly across the dark alley. She stopped right in front of him. She looked at the lit cigarette in his hand, and then she looked directly up into his eyes.

"You are still doing this?" Daisy asked quietly.

Ben looked away. He leaned the back of his head against the cold brick wall and sighed.

"Sometimes," Ben admitted. "The job is stressful."

Years ago, this interaction would have gone completely differently.

Back in college, Daisy would have been incredibly shy. She would have worried about his health. She would have given a small, nervous lecture and begged him to stop ruining his lungs.

But she was not a timid freshman anymore.

She was calm. She was completely confident.

Daisy did not say a single word. She simply reached out her hand.

She took the lit cigarette right from between his fingers.

Ben blinked in absolute shock. He did not even try to stop her.

Daisy turned around. She walked over to the metal trash can sitting near the back door. She pressed the glowing tip of the cigarette against the metal ashtray, completely crushing it until the embers died out.

She dropped the ruined cigarette into the bin.

She turned back to face him.

"You are too old to pretend stress is a personality trait, Ben," Daisy said simply.

Ben stared at her. His hand was still frozen in the air where she had taken the cigarette.

"You just threw away an incredibly expensive cigarette," Ben pointed out.

"Good," Daisy replied without missing a beat.

She adjusted the heavy strap of her camera bag on her shoulder. She gave him one last, knowing look, and then she turned around and started walking down the dark alley toward the main street.

Ben stood frozen against the brick wall.

He watched her walk away. He watched her dark coat disappear around the corner of the building.

The alley was completely quiet again.

Ben felt the familiar, heavy weight of stress pushing against the back of his skull. His fingers twitched. He instinctively reached his hand back into his coat pocket.

He felt the cardboard edge of the cigarette box. He just needed one more to clear his head. Just one more to calm his racing thoughts.

He wrapped his fingers around the box.

He stopped.

Ben pulled his empty hand out of his pocket.

He looked at the metal ashtray where Daisy had crushed his cigarette. He thought about the calm, entirely confident look in her eyes when she took it from him. She had not asked for permission. She just knew exactly what he needed, and she did it.

For the very first time in years, the crushing stress in his head actually felt a little bit lighter.

Ben buttoned his coat against the cold wind. He decided not to light another one. He turned around and walked back inside the building.