The tedious task of proofreading bid documents left Mike feeling restless. After hours of reading and editing, his vision began to blur, words dancing before his eyes as if out of focus. He massaged his temples, stood up, and stretched, his joints popping softly as he tried to shake off the drowsiness. Lunchtime arrived, and he decided to step outside for some fresh air. Suddenly, his phone rang.

“Mike, do you have any cash on you?” Lotus's voice came through the line, tinged with urgency and breathlessness, as if she were walking while talking.

Mike paused, raising an eyebrow slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. “Sure, the company just handed out bonuses yesterday.”

He paused, testing the waters. “How much? Is two hundred thousand enough?”

“Good. I'll head to your office now. We'll grab lunch and discuss a business deal.” Lotus's tone was firm, yet tinged with urgency, as if afraid he might refuse.

“A business deal? Alright. I'll wait for you at the Pizza Hut downstairs.”

As the Pizza Hut doors swung open, the aroma of baked cheese, tomato sauce, and bread wafted toward him. Mike chose a booth by the window, where he could keep an eye on the entrance while watching the street outside gradually fill with activity. He idly scrolled through news on his phone, his gaze repeatedly drifting toward the doorway.

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As he pushed open the heavy glass door of Pizza Hut, a wave of baked cheese, tomato sauce, and fresh bread enveloped him. He chose a booth by the window—close enough to watch the entrance, while gazing out at the growing bustle of the street. The leather seat creaked softly beneath him, comfortable yet grounding. Jazz music floated gently in the background, punctuated by clinking cutlery and the muted hum of the ovens.

He scrolled absentmindedly through his phone, but his eyes kept drifting to the door. When Lotus finally appeared, a gust of cool air followed her in. She scanned the room quickly until Mike waved her over with a relieved smile.

Lotus’s cheeks were flushed, a fine sheen of sweat at her temples. “Sorry, traffic was crazy,” she murmured, shrugging off her coat and brushing loose strands of hair from her face. She slid into the booth, her smile a shade too forced.

Mike leaned forward, eyes full of gentle concern. “It’s fine, I just got here. Hungry? I ordered your favorite seafood pizza. Fresh out of the oven—eat while it’s hot.” His tone was soft, reassuring, as he nudged the plate toward her.

Lotus didn’t hesitate. She picked up a slice and ate quickly, almost ravenously, as though the food could smother the turmoil inside her. After finishing one piece, she dabbed her lips carefully with a napkin, then clasped it tightly in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she leaned in.

“Mike, I came today because... there’s something I need to ask of you.” Her voice wavered, but her gaze sought his. “My brother’s toy factory took a large order last month. All the working capital went into raw materials. But next Monday, a two-million-dollar bank loan comes due. The new loan won’t be approved until next month. Right now, he’s desperate to bridge the gap.” She hesitated, then added quickly, “Don’t worry. Once the loan clears, we’ll repay you immediately. And we’ll add 20% annual interest.”

Mike blinked in surprise before smiling kindly, leaning closer, hands clasped on the table. “If it’s your brother, of course I’ll lend the money. Why would you need to pay interest? That’s unnecessary.” His tone was light, almost casual, as though it were nothing. To him, helping someone he loved was second nature. He never considered hidden motives or unspoken fears—his heart was as open and trusting as a blank page.

But Lotus stiffened. She bit her lip, her voice dropping. “You don’t understand. Around here, borrowing always comes with interest. Otherwise... we wouldn’t dare. It’s just how it is.” Her words carried a defensive edge, though her eyes betrayed something deeper: fear. Fear that a gift without conditions would blur boundaries. Fear that accepting such “free” help would mean surrendering control, sliding into dependence she couldn’t allow. She had a family, children—she couldn’t afford to risk everything.

Mike, oblivious, shook his head with a gentle smile. “Businessmen earn profit through circulation. Interest is natural for them. But I’m not a businessman. You don’t need to pay me back with interest. Just give me your bank account. I’ll transfer the money today.” He pulled out his phone, ready to act. In his mind, this was simple: loved ones’ struggles were his responsibility.

Lotus’s fingers drummed nervously against the table, her knuckles pale. She forced a whisper, “Mike, you know I love you... but this town is small. Too small...” Her words faltered, catching in her throat. She had meant to tell him outright: I won’t leave my family. I don’t want anyone to know about us. But when she imagined the light in his eyes dimming, she couldn’t bear it.

So she bowed her head, pretending to focus on her pizza though appetite had fled. Inside, her emotions surged: love tangled with caution, need laced with fear. Mike’s innocence left her unsure—was his generosity pure, or was it a test of loyalty?

Mike, meanwhile, saw only sincerity. To him, love was unconditional giving. He couldn’t see that money, more swiftly than passion, could redraw the fragile lines between closeness and distance.