"Keep it," Nichs repeated, steel edging his tone-no room for refusal.

Yet Jocelyn remained motionless, stubborn as stone, her hands folded in herp.

Nichs exhaled in quiet frustration. "Can''t you listen to me, just this once?"

Eyes lowered, she said, "I haven''t done anything for you. When I resigned, you already paid me extra. I can''t take more."

The words settled between them, a silence that stretched and deepened until even the clock dared not tick.

Nichs lifted his cup again, then, almost against his will, asked, "And if something happened to me?"

"Huh?" Jocelyn''s head snapped up. "Nichs, what are you talking about?"

"Don''t panic," he said, choosing each word carefully. "I mean hypothetically. If I''m gone, I''ll have no real friends-only you. Can''t I leave a portion of my money to you?"

Fear pricked the edges of herposure. "Don''t say that, Mr. Nichs. Nothing will happen to you. You''ve got family, and you''ll have plenty of friends in time."

He shook his head faintly. "No... People think I''m easygoing, but I know most of them don''t care for me at all," he confessed, disappointment clouding his voice. Seeing him like that only deepened her worry; a quiet, protective ache filled her chest.

Jocelyn''s courage faltered the moment their gazes collided. Her fingers knotted together beneath the edge of the linen tablecloth, and when she finally spoke, her voice was scarcely louder than the rustle of candle me. "Mr. Nichs..."

Nichs caught the tremor in her tone and-aware the air between them had grown too solemn-offered an easyugh that never quite reached his eyes. "All right, that was just me joking. Let''s call it this, then: I''ll leave the money in your care. You hold on to it for me, will you?"

The request was wrapped in gentleness, yet the weight of his trust left Jocelyn no room to refuse, and she felt herst line of retreat quietly copse.

"Okay," she murmured, lifting her chin in a tiny, resolute nod-trying, and half- failing, to mask the riot of emotion behind her calm reply.

One by one, the dishes began to arrive-porcin lids lifting to release curls of fragrant steam that drifted upward like slow choreography, filling the private room with the low hum of simmering broth.

Nichs guided a morsel of sautéed sea bass onto her te, speaking with a gentleness so casual it almost felt practiced. "Come on, eat while it''s hot. I have no idea what you like, so we ordered a bit of everything."

It was the first time anyone had served her with such deliberate care. Startled and shy, Jocelyn''s cheeks warmed. "I''m fine with anything," she confessed, the words tripping over a small, disbelieving smile.

Halfway through passing her another chopstick-full, Nichs changed the subject, his tone casual but probing. "Has Yannick been taking you out much these days?"

Jocelyn blinked at the sudden question, then gave a quick, honest nod. "Mm- hmm. We dine out often."

The mention of Yannick stirred an ache she had spent the entire evening keeping buried. She

remembered the question her fiancé

had asked that morning whether het heart still leaned toward Nichs.  s

Yes, it does.

She had prayed the feeling would fade; it had not. Liking someone was never a

matter of willpower, and her own will, it seemed, held no sway at all.

"Mr. Nichs, once we finish dinner, I''ll head home. You should talk to your assistant; he''s truly worried about you."

Nichs set his fork down, studying her as though memorizing light on water. "So you''re not nning toe back as my assistant?"

A beat of hesitation pulsed in the silence before she answered. "I''m sorry. Right now, I''m focused on marrying Yannick and building a quiet life. Work can wait until next year and when it does, I''ll look for something new."  s

She told herself the dy was practical, but in truth, the decision was final.

Whatever job she found, it would not ce her beside Nichs again.

In the long run, that was kinder-to him, to Yannick, and to the fragile bnce of her own heart.

A sting tightened Nichs'' throat; he

swallowed the urge to cough and

managed a rueful smile. "All right. But promise we''ll keep in touch don''t want to lose... a friend like you."  s

Jocelyn nodded, the motion firm, almost solemn-an unspoken vow pressed into the air between them.

"I will."fn256a Th?s chapter is updated by f?i?n?d?n?o?v?e?l?/fn256a

Her eyes curved into a soft crescent, and in that moment, she was luminously, achingly beautiful.

When thest dish cooled and conversation ebbed, she stood and offered her farewell.

Nichs wanted to send her home, but she lifted a gentle hand, declining before he could rise.

"Mr. Nichs, Yannick might misunderstand if you drive me. I''ll be fine on my own."

Conflict clouded Nichs'' eyes; still, he managed a stiff nod and watched as she stepped into a waiting cab, the taillights ring crimson before melting into city dusk.

Long after the car had vanished, he remained on the sidewalk, hands in pockets, unwilling—or perhaps unable to turn away.

Friend... The word tasted strangely bitter on his tongue.

For Nichs, Jocelyn was a friend no one else on earth could replicate, rece,

or forget.