The atmosphere on the executive floor never fully recovered after Sebastian's email.
People still worked.
Meetings still happened.
Phones still rang.
But underneath everything sat a quiet tension that nobody openly acknowledged.
Because Sebastian Wolfe was absent.
And somehow that changed the entire building.
Lillian sat at her desk outside his dark office, staring blankly at the report open on her screen.
She had reread the same paragraph at least six times now.
None of it stayed in her head.
Her attention kept drifting.
To the empty office.
To the untouched lights.
To the silence behind the glass walls.
Usually Sebastian's presence consumed this floor completely.
Even when he wasn't speaking.
Even when his office door stayed shut.
People moved differently when he was here.
Sharper.
Faster.
More focused.
Now everything felt uncertain.
Like Sovereign itself noticed something was wrong.
Lillian quietly rubbed at her temple.
Exhaustion sat heavily behind her eyes.
Not physical exhaustion.
Emotional.
Across from her, Chloe watched carefully while pretending to organize documents.
Eventually, she sighed softly.
"You've stared at his office for ten minutes."
Lillian looked away immediately.
"I have not."
"You absolutely have."
Lillian didn't answer.
Because denying it felt pointless.
Chloe's expression softened slightly.
"You're worried about him."
The response came too quickly.
"Of course I'm worried."
Lillian froze slightly after saying it.
Because of how immediate the answer was.
Chloe noticed too.
But she didn't push.
Instead, she leaned back slightly in her chair.
"You can care about him and still need space from him."
Lillian lowered her gaze quietly.
"I know."
"Do you?"
Silence.
Lillian's fingers tightened slightly around the pen in her hand.
"I just…" she started softly, then stopped.
Chloe waited patiently.
Lillian exhaled quietly.
"I didn't think he'd react like this."
That was the truth.
She knew Sebastian would be hurt.
But this?
Missing work.
Working remotely.
Avoiding Sovereign completely.
Nothing about this was normal for him.
Chloe studied her carefully.
Then quietly admitted:
"I don't think Sebastian knows how to separate emotional pain from personal failure."
Lillian's chest tightened painfully at that.
Because it sounded exactly right.
Across the city, Sebastian sat alone in his office at the mansion.
The curtains remained partially closed despite the afternoon sunlight outside.
His laptop sat open in front of him.
Unread emails covering the screen.
Meeting requests.
Reports.
Messages.
He hadn't answered most of them.
A glass rested beside his hand.
Half empty.
Or half full.
At this point, Sebastian honestly wasn't sure.
Alcohol burned less than the silence did.
That was the problem.
His eyes stayed fixed on the screen without really seeing it.
Every few minutes he attempted to work.
Every few minutes he failed.
Because concentration kept slipping through his hands like water.
His thoughts repeated endlessly instead.
You should've said it.
The sentence looped constantly now.
Relentlessly.
Why couldn't you just say it?
Sebastian closed his eyes briefly.
His fingers pressed lightly against his forehead.
The headache forming there had been growing since morning.
Or maybe since yesterday.
Time felt strange now.
Blurry.
Disconnected.
He reached for the glass again automatically.
The burn spread through his throat.
Warm.
Numbing.
Temporary.
Not enough.
Never enough.
His gaze drifted toward the couch near the far wall.
Where Lillian used to sit while waiting for him to finish work.
The memory hit immediately.
Too fast.
Too sharp.
Sebastian looked away.
His chest tightened painfully.
He still expected to hear her footsteps sometimes.
Still looked up automatically when doors opened.
Still thought she would walk back into the room eventually.
But she didn't.
Because this time—
she actually left.
A notification suddenly appeared across his screen.
Executive board meeting.
Five minutes.
Sebastian stared at it blankly.
He should cancel.
He knew that logically.
But cancelling would raise questions.
Questions meant attention.
Attention meant weakness.
And Sebastian Wolfe did not allow weakness to become visible publicly.
Even now.
Especially now.
Slowly, he straightened slightly in his chair.
Adjusted his sleeves.
Tried to reconstruct himself into something functional.
Then opened the virtual meeting link.
Back at Sovereign, executives gradually gathered in the conference room.
Lillian sat near the far end of the table beside Chloe.
The atmosphere remained uneasy.
People kept glancing toward the large screen at the front of the room.
Waiting.
Because Sebastian never missed executive meetings.
Even remotely.
The screen remained dark for several long seconds.
Then finally—
it flickered on.
And the room immediately fell silent.
Sebastian appeared on screen sitting in his office at the mansion.
For one horrible second, nobody spoke.
Because he looked wrong.
Not just tired.
Wrong.
Paler than usual.
His dark hair slightly disheveled like he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly.
Shadows heavy beneath his eyes.
His tie missing entirely.
The top buttons of his shirt undone slightly.
And worst of all—
his expression.
Detached.
Like he was forcing himself to stay present manually.
Lillian's chest tightened instantly.
Because she knew Sebastian better than anyone in this room.
And she realized immediately—
he looked slightly drunk.
Not heavily.
Not enough for most people to openly identify it.
But enough that she noticed the tiny differences.
The slower blink rate.
The slight delay before responses.
The loosened control.
Sebastian never loosened control.
Chloe noticed too.
Her eyes widened faintly before quickly flicking toward Lillian.
Lillian couldn't look away from the screen.
Because suddenly all she could think was:
He's drinking.
Sebastian rarely drank.
Only when things became unbearable.
Only when his control started slipping.
Her stomach twisted painfully.
One of the executives cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Mr. Wolfe, regarding the Henderson projections—."
Sebastian answered immediately.
His voice remained calm.
Professional.
Controlled enough.
But something underneath it sounded strained.
Like maintaining composure itself was exhausting him.
"Approve the revised interface structure," he said quietly.
"We'll move phase implementation to quarter three."
The executive nodded quickly.
Nobody commented on his appearance.
Nobody questioned anything.
Because nobody at this table would ever openly point out weakness in Sebastian Wolfe.
But the room felt different now.
Careful.
Watching him without watching him.
Sebastian continued speaking.
Giving instructions.
Adjusting projections.
Answering questions.
And the entire time Lillian kept noticing small things wrong.
His responses occasionally delayed by a second too long.
His hand tightening faintly around the glass beside him.
The way his gaze seemed unfocused whenever nobody directly addressed him.
Like staying mentally present required effort.
Then suddenly—
Sebastian stopped mid-sentence.
Only briefly.
But enough.
Silence flickered across the room.
His eyes shifted slightly downward.
Then back up again.
Like he momentarily forgot where he was.
Lillian's heart dropped.
Because Sebastian never lost track of meetings.
Never.
He recovered quickly.
Continued speaking normally.
But the damage was already done.
She saw it now.
Clearly.
And once she saw it—
she couldn't unsee it.
This wasn't Sebastian handling the breakup quietly.
This was Sebastian unraveling while pretending he wasn't.
The meeting finally ended forty minutes later.
Executives disconnected quickly afterward, tension lingering heavily in the room.
The screen went dark.
And silence settled immediately.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Then quietly, one executive muttered:
"…Is Mr. Wolfe alright?"
Nobody answered.
Because nobody knew how to.
Lillian stared at the blank screen long after it disconnected.
Her chest aching painfully.
Chloe looked at her carefully.
"He shouldn't have joined that meeting."
Lillian swallowed hard.
"No."
Her voice came out quieter than intended.
Because now she understood something she hadn't fully realized before.
Sebastian wasn't coping.
He was collapsing privately while trying to appear functional publicly.
And somehow—
seeing that hurt even worse than the breakup itself.