The following evening, Matthew stood on his balcony, holding a glass of red wine and looking out at the illuminated city below. The view was magnificent, but tonight, he couldn't appreciate it in the same way. The silence around him seemed to amplify the weight on his chest, bringing back memories that were hard to shake.
He took a sip of wine, tasting the rich, bitter taste that seemed to match his mood. That day, a few years ago, had marked his life irreversibly—the loss of his parents in a sudden accident. The pain he felt was silent but deep, something he rarely allowed to show. Even though life had moved on, and he had become the CEO of NeuroSys, that absence always accompanied him.
Holding the glass tightly, he closed his eyes, remembering the moments with them. The memories were so vivid that he could almost hear his mother's laughter and feel the pride in his father's eyes.
"You gave me everything," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "I hope I'm honoring the legacy you left."
Aether, ever present, silently projected himself beside Matthew, detecting the sadness in his face. "Sir, are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?"
Matthew looked at the projection in surprise, and gave a weak smile. "Thank you, Aether... but no. Sometimes we just need these moments to remember."
He turned to face the view again, feeling a light night breeze as the city came alive below him.
Matthew took another long sip of wine, letting the warmth of the drink bring him brief comfort. But even with the gentle effect of the alcohol, he felt as if he were sinking into a darkness he had long tried to avoid. The weight of the memories dragged him back to a time when, without his parents and still very young, he had experienced a deep, paralyzing depression.
The glass lay forgotten in his hand as memories came to life: sleepless nights, lost in dark thoughts and unable to find a way out, the emptiness that seemed never ending. At the time, he remembered how even the days seemed indistinguishable, as if he were trapped in a cycle of pain and hopelessness. The loss of his parents had left him adrift, and although time had taught him to carry the burden with dignity, that sadness was still there, just buried.
The tears came before he could stop them. He put the glass aside and covered his face with his hands, allowing himself to feel the pain without resistance. He remembered every piece of advice from his father, the warm embrace from his mother... things he would never have again. The absence was immeasurable, and no matter how much success he had achieved, everything felt empty without them to see the man he had become.
The memories suffocated him, and Matthew cried there, alone on the balcony, letting his pain escape in quiet sobs. At that moment, the facade of strength and success didn't matter; he was just a man in mourning, still deeply hurt by the loss.
After a while, Aether silently projected himself at his side. Without saying anything, he remained there, respecting the vulnerability of the moment, offering him a silent presence in the midst of the pain.
The sound of the alarm clock brought him back to reality, although Matthew was not prepared to face another day. He woke up slowly, with heavy eyes, as if the fatigue was not only physical, but also emotional. The reflection in the bathroom mirror showed an exhausted man, with deep dark circles under his eyes and a tired expression. He had tried to hide the pain during the night, but now, faced with his reflection, he could not deceive himself. The weight of grief was still there, rooted, despite all the progress and achievements.
With a heavy sigh, he got out of bed and walked to the kitchen, his mind wandering, lost in dark thoughts. His feet seemed to drag on the floor, as if the simple act of walking was an effort. He opened the refrigerator in search of something simple to drink, something that would at least make him feel a little more awake. He grabbed the bottle of water and took a long sip, trying to find something to ease the feeling of emptiness.
But, while he was immersed in the darkness of his thoughts, a soft voice pulled him out of that introspective moment.
Matthew turned to her, and for a moment, Elise's eyes caught the sadness in his gaze. But he quickly masked it, smiling back at her, his smile forced but efficient. He didn't want her to see his pain, didn't want her to be affected by it.
"Good morning, honey," he replied, his voice soft but full of an effort to sound normal, happy. He stepped forward and hugged her, feeling the familiarity and comfort in that gesture. "How are you?"
"I'm fine," Elise replied, still smiling. "And you? You don't look like you got much sleep."
Matthew gave a light laugh, trying to minimize the impact of his words. "Yeah, just a long day, you know." He released the hug and stepped back a little, returning to his usual role—the successful man, the leader, the "happy" one.
"You look fine," he said, wanting to quickly change the subject. "Shall we get coffee?"
Elise watched him for a moment, as if trying to read something beyond his facade. But before she could ask more, he had already turned to the table, picking up the coffee cups with a more natural smile now.
"Sure," she replied, but she didn't seem entirely convinced. She was still watching him, noticing something different about him, but she chose to let it go. She trusted that eventually he would open up, if he felt comfortable.
As they drank coffee, Matthew returned to being the "happy" man everyone knew, but inside him, the shadow of pain still accompanied him. He knew he couldn't keep hiding forever, but at that moment, what mattered was not allowing Elise to see the darkest side of his soul. She didn't need that.
As they drank coffee, Matthew did what he did best: he tried to keep the conversation light, relaxed. He made a joke about the recent events at NeuroPlay, and to his surprise, Elise laughed genuinely, the sound of her laughter filling the air around them.
"You always know how to make me laugh, Matt," Elise said, her smile brightening the room even more. Matthew, pleased with his ability to keep things normal, settled back a little more in his chair, knowing he was playing a subtle game—a game where disguising the truth was an art.
"Well, someone's gotta keep things interesting around here," he replied, his tone light and humorous. But deep down, he knew it was just a facade. As much as he tried to look good, the truth was that he felt distant, more empty than ever. He was beginning to wonder if he could keep up this facade for much longer.
"Sometimes you talk like you're a professional comedian," Elise said, laughing once more. Matthew liked hearing that laugh, but something inside him clenched. She deserved better. She deserved better than a man who couldn't deal with his own ghosts.
Trying to push those thoughts away, he leaned forward, giving the conversation a more ambiguous tone. "Well, you never know what to expect from me, do you? I can be the serious man at NeuroSys, or… I can be the guy who makes you laugh."
Elise raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh, really? And which would you rather be?"
Matthew smiled, but his answer was carefully calculated. "I prefer to be the one who makes you smile, always." He knew his smile looked natural, but something in his eyes still reflected a deep weariness.
Elise watched him for a moment, trying to grasp some truth behind his words, but, as always, he managed to dodge the question. She smiled again, suspicious, but said nothing.
The conversation continued for a few more minutes, but Matthew felt a growing tension, as if something else was about to happen, something he wasn't quite ready to face. When Elise moved closer to him, he looked up to meet her gaze. The space between them narrowed, and Matthew felt his heart race, although he tried to hold on, not giving in to the moment.
Elise looked into his eyes with a mischievous smile and, without warning, leaned forward, kissing him softly on the lips. Matthew was surprised at first, but when he felt her touch, something inside him broke. He kissed her back, deeper, more urgent, as if trying to escape from something, as if he wanted, for a moment, to lose himself in that moment.
When they finally pulled away, Matthew looked at her, his eyes still shining with surprise. He hadn't expected that, but he also couldn't resist.
"I… I didn't expect that," he said, his voice hoarser than usual, still catching his breath. Elise smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Me neither, but sometimes life surprises you," she said, still smiling. She didn't say anything else, but the look she exchanged with Matthew was filled with a new tension, perhaps something he wasn't ready to face but knew he couldn't avoid for long.
Matthew leaned back in his chair, looking at her, and for the first time that day, he felt a little more at peace.