Chapter 13



After lunch break, Nani's mother arrives at his company, dressed elegantly as always, carrying a carefully wrapped box of homemade desserts. She's always had a soft spot for her son, and despite his cold and calculating exterior at work, she knows he still loves her cooking.

As she walks through the office, she hears quiet murmurs from a group of employees who haven't noticed her yet.

"Honestly, I still can't believe it. Khun Nani letting someone use his pen? That's like touching the crown jewels."

"Right? And the way he calls Sky to finish his coffee like an old married couple? It's like he doesn't even realize he's already lost."

"Lost? More like whipped. I mean, have you seen him lately? He actually smiles now. Smiles!"

Nani's mother pauses, her smile growing as she listens. Oh, this is interesting.

Just then, one of the employees glances up and freezes at the sight of her standing there.

The group immediately scrambles to act normal, papers shuffled, keyboards tapped as if they had been diligently working the whole time.

But Nani's mother simply chuckles. "Oh, don't stop. I was just enjoying the story."

The employees turn pale.

"W-We weren't gossiping, ma'am! Just—uh—commenting on office efficiency!"

She laughs softly, setting the dessert box on the reception counter. "Office efficiency, is that what they call it now?"

Instead of prying further, she simply continues toward Nani's office, a knowing look in her eyes.

As Nani's mother steps into his office, she immediately notices the subtle but undeniable changes. The space is still as luxurious and modern as ever sleek black and white tones, clean lines, and meticulously arranged furniture. But something is different.

There's a light blue throw pillow on the couch. A small potted plant by the window that definitely wasn't there before. A book with a bright-colored cover sits on the coffee table.

And then, her gaze lands on the desk. Two mugs.

One sits close to Nani's hand, dark blue, simple, and elegant. His style. But the other?

Her eyes narrow slightly in amusement. The mug is a soft pastel yellow. It has a cartoon dog on it. And what intrigues her the most? It's not placed randomly.

It's sitting neatly on the other side of the desk, positioned carefully. Not discarded. Not shoved aside. But placed there, like it's something important. Like it belongs.

His mother exhales softly, shaking her head with a fond smile. She never thought that her son who once rejected a luxury watch because it had too much gold would allow something so the colorful mug into his space.

Her lips curve into a knowing smile.

She finally turns her gaze to her son, who is currently engrossed in reviewing a document, completely oblivious to her observations.

"Your office looks different." she muses aloud, casually strolling toward his desk. "I remember it being much colder before. More... impersonal."

Nani doesn't look up. "It's the same as always, mom."

She hums, stepping closer. "Is it?"

Her fingers brush against the pastel mug. She doesn't pick it up, just lets them linger as she studies her son's reaction.

Sure enough, his eyes flick up immediately.

With a soft chuckle, she takes a seat across from him, folding her hands neatly in her lap. "So," she starts casually, "who does it belong to?"

Nani exhales slowly, setting down his pen. "You shouldn't listen to office gossip."

"Oh, but it was such interesting gossip." She rests her chin on her hand, eyes twinkling. "Something about you letting someone borrow your pen. Your pen. The one even Win and Dew wouldn't dare to touch."

Nani finally look at his mother and sigh. "Mom. Don't listen to what they said, they need to focus on work not my personal life."

"They probably would if their boss wasn't making things so fascinating." She leans in slightly, dropping her voice into something gentler. She continues "And you even making sure someone finishes their coffee. And you smiling more." She tilts her head. "I must say, I'm quite curious about the person capable of that."

Silence.

Her son, so sharp and composed in every business negotiation, is suddenly struggling to find a response.

She decides to tease her son a bit more. "I'd like to meet them."

That makes him pause.

"Nani" she replies smoothly, tilting her head. She reaches over and lightly taps the pastel mug again, her eyes never leaving his. "Anyone who can put this on your desk, and have you accept it, must be someone very special."

He exhales sharply through his nose, rubbing his temples as if this conversation is physically draining him. "Mom, you know I don't like people being nosy about my personal life."

She doesn't even blink. "Who said I was being nosy?"

Nani just smile tiredly at his mother. and She smiles innocently.

With a sigh, Nani pushes back from his desk and walks over to her, resting his hands gently on her shoulders. "Mom, you have Win all to yourself now. Please, leave your son alone." His thumbs press lightly into the tense spots near her neck, a familiar, practiced motion.

Her eyes narrow slightly. This trick of her son, giving a gentle shoulder massage whenever he wanted to avoid a conversation, was something she knew too well. He only ever did this when he really wanted to shut a topic down.

She lets him continue for a few moments, pretending to relax under his touch, before speaking again. "Nani, You know that doesn't work on me, right?"

Then, he pulls away with an exasperated sigh.

"And yet, here I am, still waiting for an answer." She smiles sweetly, folding her hands together. "Who is she?"

He doesn't respond but he walk to sit in front of his mother instead. Her heart softens on her son.

She reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead the way she used to when he was younger. "You don't have to tell me now" she says gently. "But, Nani... I raised you. I know when something or someone matters to you."

And with that, she pats his cheek lightly before turning to leave. She smiles. "I'll wait."

She can wait.

But not for too long.

After his mother left, Nani walked over to the window, hands tucked into his pockets as he stared out at the city. The view was the same as always, tall buildings, cars moving in neat rows below, the distant hum of a world that never stopped. But today, it felt different. Or maybe he was the one who felt different.

He hadn't given Sky an answer yet. Not because he was unsure of Sky's feelings, those had been painfully clear. But because he needed to be sure of his own.

Did he like Sky? Yes. That much was obvious. Sky had slipped into his life so effortlessly, turning everyday moments into something... different. But was it the kind of "like" that meant something more? Or was it just comfort, familiarity, friendship? And Nani won't to make a move until he was certain.

And yet he looked around his office, his gaze landing on the pastel mug sitting on the far side of his desk. It was ridiculous, really. A single mug, out of place among his usual black and white, stood out stubbornly like its owner.

At some point, without thinking, he had placed Sky's mug there. Not out of convenience. Not because he had nowhere else to put it.

Because he liked it there.

Nani sighed, rubbing his temple.

And the worst part? It wasn't just his mother who noticed. His employees, his friends, everyone around him acted like he had just entered his first relationship. Like he and Sky were already a done deal. Like his hesitation didn't even matter.

That should've annoyed him. Maybe it did, just a little. The constant teasing, the knowing looks, the way everyone seemed to think it was already a done deal.

But what bothered him more, what truly unsettled him, was the nagging thought that kept circling in his mind.

What if they were right?

What if, despite all his doubts and not giving Sky an answer yet, Nani had already started feeling something more? What if Sky had slowly worked his way into his heart without Nani even realizing it?

He had spent so much time trying to avoid this, trying to convince himself that he needed more time to figure things out. But the more he thought about it, the clearer it became. He was already halfway there. Maybe even further.

But what did that even mean? And how was he supposed to face it?