"Take him away." Anabel commanded, and the two officers stepped forward to take Sylvester. "Young men, you are coming with us. It's either you comply or you force you. Your choice."
“Wait—please! Anabel! Tell them to stop! We can talk, we can.” Sylvester pleaded, but she didn’t say a word. She stood like stone as the officers cuffed him and began to lead him out.
He looked back at her, eyes wide with panic. “Anabel, please! You loved me! You loved me!”
But she didn’t even flinch. Didn’t soften. She watched him go, and for the first time in a long time, she felt so satisfied.
She picked up her phone and called Desmond, "He came, and I arrested him. Come to Cardik Hotel by 5pm. I will be waiting in their VIP restaurant."
I few minutes later, her phone vibrated. It was a message from Desmond: "I will be there."
She smiled and began to tap on her desk, thinking of the things she was going to ask him.
.
.
(Two hours later)
.
.
The warm, golden lights of the VIP restaurant at Cardik Hotel glowed softly against the wine-colored décor, casting a serene ambiance over Anabel’s table as she waited.
She had instructed the waitress earlier, “Once you see a man sit at this table, bring the drink.”
At exactly 5 p.m., Desmond arrived. He stepped through the door like something out of a story—tailored charcoal suit, crisp shirt, and a presence that turned a few heads as he made his way to Anabel's table.
Anabel’s breath caught briefly. He looked more handsome and manly. It was as if he did some work out before someone.
She stood as he got to the table. Without hesitation, she stepped into his arms, and they shared a hug that lingered just long enough to remind them both of something they had lost—but maybe not entirely.
“It’s good to see you,” Desmond said with a warm smile, and Anabel smiled and. looked up at him. "It's good to see you too. Thanks for coming.”
They sat down, and before any words could fill the space, the waitress returned with the drink as instructed, setting it on the table before slipping away.
Anabel took a slow breath and began to speak. "You won't believe that Desmond tried to deny everything."
"What did he say?"
"He was saying he wasn't aware of Max's plan. That he thought I was the one that sent the money." She told Desmond everything. About the lies he tried to spin and how it all ended with him in handcuffs.
When she paused, he reached across the table and gently touched her hand.
“Thank you,” she said softly, “for opening my eyes. For seeing the truth even when I was blind to it. And... I’m sorry—for not listening when I should have. I let the past control my emotions.”
"You don’t owe me an apology. What matters is that you see it now. And I’m proud of you—for standing up for arresting him. For not pitying him.”
She looked down, just briefly, before meeting his gaze again.
“I just wish I had seen it sooner.”
"It's now a past thing. Let's forget about him and focus on ourselves. Let's talk about each other."
Her eyes softened, and for a moment, there was a warm feeling in her heart. A kind that is familiar and comforting. The kind that said, You’re safe now.
They didn’t need to say it outright. But something old was stirring back to life between them. Something worth giving another chance.
Anabel opened the non-alcoholic wine and poured it into each of the glass cups.
"I've missed you so much." Desmond said and took a sip of the wine.
Anabel smiled and then asked, "I've missed you too. But tell me, what do you miss about me?" She had her eyes locked on him with a smile on her face.