Serena adjusted the cuffs of her blazer as she stepped into Malik's office.
The space smelled like polished wood and faint cedar — steady, grounded, cold.
Just like him.
Malik stood by the window, a slim folder tucked under one arm.
He turned when she entered, his face unreadable.
"Serena," he said simply, offering a small, practiced smile.
"Thank you for coming."
She smiled back — bright, hopeful, desperate.
Anything to believe the gap between them could still be crossed.
He gestured to the chair opposite his desk and placed the folder neatly in front of her.
"Just some finalizations for the Dewhurst tender," he said, voice smooth.
"Standard amendments.
I need your signature on a few pages before we submit."
Serena nodded quickly.
Of course.
Business.
Future.
She was still part of it.
She still mattered.
She opened the folder.
Page after page of dense legal text — procurement schedules, shareholder clauses, projected revenue streams.
Hidden between them, nestled seamlessly among the jargon, was the amended divorce agreement.
Carefully crafted.
Legally binding.
Devastating.
Malik sat across from her, hands steepled calmly.
No pressure.
No urgency.
Just patience.
Serena flipped through the packet, scanning only for signature tabs marked with neat yellow flags.
Her heart raced — part excitement, part dread — but she forced her hand steady.
This was progress.
This was hope.
She signed the first flagged page.
And the second.
And the third.
The pen moved easily.
The ink dried quickly.
The marriage ended quietly.
When she slid the folder back across the desk, Malik took it without comment.
Their fingers brushed for the briefest moment.
A static shock.
Or maybe just the dying breath of something already dead.
"Thank you," Malik said, standing and offering his hand to her as if they had just completed any other routine business transaction.
Serena rose slowly, confused but hopeful.
"Of course," she said.
"I'm... glad we're working together again."
Malik's smile didn't reach his eyes.
"We always did make a good team," he said.
As Serena walked out of the office, the sunlight catching in her hair, Malik sat back down.
He opened the folder slowly, methodically.
Checked every signature.
Every initial.
Every date.
Done.
Clean.
Final.
He pulled open his desk drawer, retrieving the small, weighty USB.
It glinted under the fluorescent lights.
Tomorrow, he would watch it.
Tomorrow, he would bury whatever fragments of the past still lingered.
But today—
Today, he would savor the quiet moment
where he ended a lie
with nothing but a pen and a smile.