"What did she do when you were working late, exhausted and struggling to build your future?" April asked but Samuel could not respond. "She sat down in one place, and watched it all happen. She wanted emotional intelligence from you, but did not try to teach it to you. She wanted to spend time with you, but was not convinced or ambitious enough to try and achieve the feat of working side by side with you."

Mei claimed Samuel was inconsiderate and never there, but was she there for him when he needed her? He absolutely would never think that way because at this point, he could only blame himself for their breakup.

Someone who only wants to rely on their man both financially and emotionally without even trying to fix anything when things go wrong does not deserve to accuse him for not being good enough.

​"You are blaming yourself for a structural failure that belongs entirely to her," April said, tapping her finger on the table. "You grew up poor, so you understand the brutal reality of the world. You know that security is the foundation of everything. You worked twenty-four-seven because you are smart, responsible, and ambitious. But Mei? Mei lives in a fantasy world. She wanted a boyfriend who could bankroll her lifestyle, but also have the free time of an unemployed college student to whisper sweet nothings in her ear every hour on the hour."

​She leaned forward, her eyes locking onto his.

​"You think if you quit your job, she’d take you back? Sure, maybe for a week. Until your fat paychecks stop rolling in, until you can’t take her to upscale restaurants anymore, and until the cold, hard reality of financial stress hits. A woman who leaves you because you work too hard for your shared future is a woman who would have abandoned you the second things actually got tough."

​April scoffed softly, thinking of the dark timeline where Mei literally used her as zombie bait. She’s a parasite, Samuel. She looks for the highest bidder with the most free time.

​"Don’t you dare waste your competence, your intellect, and your career on someone who measures your love by how many vacations you take rather than the security you sweat blood to provide," April told him firmly. "The world is changing, Samuel. Very soon, the ’fat paychecks’ and the stability you created with Xavier Reed won’t just be a luxury—they will be the line between life and death. You didn’t fail. She just didn’t have the vision to see what you were truly building."

Samuel looked at her, his brows pulling together in deep confusion. The raw despair in his eyes was momentarily eclipsed by sheer bewilderment.

​"What do you mean by that, Miss April?" he asked, his analytical corporate mind trying to parse her cryptic phrasing. "The line between life and death? Are you implying that Reed Industries is facing some sort of physical threat, or—"

​"Don’t read too much into it," April interrupted smoothly, giving a casual, dismissive wave of her hand. "When the time comes, you’ll know exactly what I mean. But for now, you need to realize that breaking up and falling out of love is never the end of the world."

​She leaned back, crossing her legs. "In the future, you might meet someone else. Someone who actually has the depth to understand what you are fighting for, and someone who respects how hard you work to accomplish your goals." Though finding true love in the apocalypse is kind of hard given everyone just wants to use you for their own gain. "So for now, stop looking downcast. It doesn’t suit a man of your caliber."

​Samuel let her words sink into his head. The logical, pragmatic side of him—the side that made him Xavier Reed’s most trusted asset—recognized the brutal accuracy of her advice. She was right. Objectively, she was completely right.

If Mei couldn’t handle the heat of his ambition now, she never would have lasted even if they got married.

​Yet, his heart still fiercely protested. It throbbed with a dull, heavy ache, stubbornly replaying a rapid montage of memories in his mind.

He saw their very first meeting at a quiet coffee shop, the nervous laughter, their first intimate night together, and those rare, golden moments of pure happiness before his responsibilities at the conglomerate had doubled and swallowed his schedule whole.

The phantom warmth of those memories made the current coldness in his chest almost unbearable.

​Slap!

​April slammed her hand flat against the mahogany table, the sharp, sudden sound echoing loudly through the alcove.

​Samuel jolted, his train of thought instantly derailed as he blinked up at her.

​"Since we still have plenty of time tonight and you clearly don’t have any more ’important business’ to take care of," April announced, a bored but demanding glint returning to her eyes, "shall we visit a massive supermart? I suddenly want to buy some snacks."

​Samuel stared at her for a beat, completely thrown off by her rapid transition from a profound, timeline-altering life coach to a chaotic, late-night grocery shopper.

But as he looked at the empty space where his tragic proposal had just collapsed, he realized he desperately needed a distraction. If he went back to his apartment now, he would just drown in the silence.

​"A... supermart, Miss April?" Samuel cleared his throat, pulling his shoulders back as his rigid corporate posture instinctively began to assemble itself again.

​"Yes. A very big one. Lots of aisles," April said, standing up and tossing her purse over her shoulder. "Let’s go."

​A few tables over, Alexander slowly lowered his menu, watching April drag a shell-shocked Samuel out of the garden restaurant. He quickly slid out of his booth, entirely uninvited, and jogged a few paces to catch up with them.

​"Hey, wait up!" Alexander whispered, falling into step on April’s left side while Samuel walked like an obedient, slightly hollow zombie on her right. "Are we seriously going snack shopping right now? Aren’t we supposed to be managing a high-stakes corporate coup?"

​"You’re paying for the gas, Alexander," April shot back without looking at him or responding to his worries. "And if you complain, I’m charging you a consulting fee for every aisle I walk down."

"What? Why do you charge me for every single thing I do?" Alexander complained, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation as they walked out of the restaurant’s grand entrance. "I literally just paid you a hundred and fifty million dollars today! And I believe I still owe you three million. Can’t you cut me some slack?"

​"Well, what do you expect me to do when I’m babysitting a billionaire?" April asked smoothly, casting a sideways glance at him with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

​Alexander grimaced, letting out a heavy, defeated sigh. He rubbed the back of his neck, genuinely unsure which version of April was more dangerous—the mysterious, prophetic seer who could dismantle a medical and family conspiracy with a casual smile, or this down-to-earth, money-grubbing woman who treated a multi-billionaire heir like an annoying younger brother who owed her lunch money.

​At the end of the day, both versions were aggressively after his bank account.

​"You’re terrifying, you know that?" Alexander muttered, though a faint, entertained smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

He glanced past her toward Samuel, who was walking in a silent, rigid trance, looking like a man trying to process a glitch in his personal operating system.

"Fine. Supermart it is. But if we’re buying snacks, I’m getting those expensive imported chocolates." He groaned.

​"Buy whatever you want, Mr. Greels, your card is swiping anyway," April replied, completely unfazed.