The next few days passed in a blur.

Sienna packed her belongings, carefully sorting every fabric sample and design swatch. Some were labeled and boxed for the courier company to pick up; others she tucked away with a reverence usually reserved for precious keepsakes. Each piece held a memory—a moment in time stitched with long nights, shared laughter, creative breakthroughs, and Li Wei's presence lingering like the faint scent of cologne on an old scarf.

It amazed her how something as simple as a swatch of velvet could trigger a vivid recollection: the sound of his laugh echoing through the penthouse, the way his hand would sometimes brush hers when he handed her materials. Shanghai had not just been a city; it had been the experience—the canvas for something she hadn't even realized she was painting until now.

Her last day arrived sooner than she was ready for.

That morning, just as she zipped up her final suitcase, her phone buzzed with a message from Li Wei:

"I want to spend your last night in Shanghai together. I can come to your place."

She stared at the screen for a long moment, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. She could almost hear his voice in those simple words, soft and steady. After a few seconds, she replied:

"Okay."

Even though she had promised herself she wouldn't get emotional, she knew better. Some goodbyes didn't listen to logic.

That evening, the city outside her window glittered with life—bright lights reflected across the river, taxis zipped through crowded intersections, laughter floated up from nearby cafes. But inside her apartment, the world had shrunk to something smaller, more intimate, centered around the knock at her door just past seven.

Li Wei stood there, a bottle of red wine tucked under one arm and a small, carefully wrapped package cradled in his other hand.

"For you," he said, offering the package.

Sienna blinked in surprise before taking it. She peeled back the wrapping to reveal a silk scarf, soft as a whisper beneath her fingertips. Its pattern was a delicate dance of cherry blossoms stitched with intricate gold threading.

She swallowed past the sudden tightness in her throat. "It's beautiful," she whispered.

"It reminded me of you," he said simply, his gaze steady but unbearably gentle.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The weight of the night settled quietly around them, heavy with all the things they weren't saying.

She folded the scarf carefully, smoothing it over her hand like a treasured secret, before looking up. "Thank you," she said, meaning far more than just the gift.

He smiled, small and a little sad, and followed her to the balcony. A cool breeze rolled off the Bund, carrying the scents of the city—street food, blooming night jasmine, the faint tang of the river. They stood side by side, leaning on the railing, sipping wine from mismatched glasses she dug out of her near-empty kitchen.

The silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable, but full—an echo of all the moments they had shared and the uncertainty of what would come next.

Finally, Li Wei spoke, his voice low. "Are you ready?"

She let out a breathy laugh, staring at the glittering skyline. "Not really."

He turned to face her, his expression unreadable, but his voice warm enough to wrap around her like a blanket. "You don't have to be."

His words cracked something inside her, a fissure she had tried to seal with practicality and busy hands. She blinked fast, willing the sting in her eyes to subside.

"I suppose this is goodbye," she said, her voice catching.

His jaw flexed before he replied, almost stubbornly, "Or maybe just 'see you later.'"

Her heart thudded, reckless with hope. "You mean that?"

He nodded. "I'd like to keep in touch." His fingers brushed hers, a soft, almost accidental touch that lingered longer than it needed to. "Would you?"

A slow smile curved her lips. "Yeah. I would."

The relief in his posture was subtle but unmistakable. His shoulders, always so straight and composed, eased ever so slightly.

Sienna hesitated only a second before edging closer, lowering her voice into something more vulnerable. "One more thing?"

"Anything," he said, without missing a beat.

"Stay with me tonight. Please."

The last word was a whisper, heavy with meaning. She didn't just want company—she wanted to hold onto this fleeting piece of time, to pretend for one more night that the distance between them was surmountable.

Something flickered in his gaze—understanding, tenderness, the weight of mutual longing. He reached out, sliding his arms around her waist, anchoring her to him.

"I can do that," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead, soft and reverent.

They moved inside, leaving the city's dazzling lights behind. The apartment, half-packed and strangely empty, was bathed in the soft golden glow of a single lamp. Sienna set her wineglass on the counter and turned toward him, her hands reaching out almost instinctively.

"Li..." she started, but he shook his head gently, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"Don't say it," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Not tonight."

She nodded, understanding that he meant the heavy words, the ones that might unravel the fragile peace between them. This night was for existing, not analyzing.

He leaned his forehead against hers, their breathing syncing.

"You'll text me when you land?" he asked, voice rough around the edges.

She smiled against him. "Of course."

"Good," he whispered, almost to himself.

They sank onto the couch, their bodies fitting together in the easy way that came only from real closeness. Conversations unfolded slowly between them, meandering from light-hearted memories to quiet admissions. They reminisced about the first time they'd met, the disagreement they had about the vision for the penthouse, and the late-night work turned love sessions that left them intertwined.

At some point, Sienna leaned into him fully, resting her head against his chest. His heart beat steadily beneath her ear, grounding her. She let her fingers trail lazy patterns over his shirt, memorizing the way the fabric felt against her skin.

Li Wei's hand rested on her thigh, his thumb drawing slow, comforting circles. It was an unspoken reassurance: I'm here. Right now, I'm here.

Time slipped past them unnoticed, the city's pulse fading into the background.

Eventually, reality reasserted itself with a heavy sigh.

Li Wei tilted her chin up gently, searching her face with a look so earnest it made her chest ache.

"Sienna," he said, his voice a low rumble, "no matter what happens... just know I—"

She pressed a finger to his lips, shaking her head.

"Don't," she whispered. "If you say it, it'll break me."

He held her gaze for a long heartbeat, and for a terrifying moment, she thought he might say it anyway. But then he smiled sadly, kissing the tip of her finger before drawing her into him again, his arms a safe harbor.

Their lips met in a kiss that was slow, reverent—a conversation in itself. It wasn't rushed or urgent; it was a layering of every emotion they hadn't dared put into words.

As the world outside kept spinning, alive and relentless, Sienna knew one thing for certain:

This night, this feeling, this connection—they were hers to keep, tucked safely into the blueprint of her heart.

And maybe, just maybe, this wasn't truly goodbye.