BURNING THE LINES BETWEEN US

Jerome Liu always believed he understood the rhythm of his life, predictable, clean, structured. Every morning at seven, he entered the glass tower of Linéa Cosmetics as its Managing Director. Every evening, he returned home with messages from Vanessa that made the stress of the day dissolve into softness. Every step of his future was neatly laid out, each piece fitting into the next like a perfect puzzle.

But today felt wrong in ways he couldn’t explain.

Jerome stood behind his office desk, tall windows framing Tokyo’s skyline. The late afternoon sun painted the city in molten gold. The beauty of it should’ve soothed him, it usually did.

Instead, he stared at the silent screen of his phone with a tight, uneasy chest.

Vanessa still hadn’t replied.

He had sent her a simple message three hours ago.

Are we still meeting for dinner?

Seen.

No response.

That wasn’t like her.

Jerome exhaled slowly, his fingers drumming on the sleek table. He told himself she was busy. Experiments ran late. Labs demanded time. She had always been dedicated to her work. But even dedication had limits.

This silence… It felt like something else.

His door opened gently, and Hana, his personal secretary, peeked in. “Director Liu, your six o’clock meeting wants to reschedule.”

Jerome nodded absently. “Confirm a new time tomorrow.”

Hana hesitated before adding, “You seem troubled today.”

He forced a smile. “Just tired.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she bowed and left him alone with the unsettling quiet.

Jerome tapped the edge of his phone, then put it down. He refused to obsess over three unread messages. Vanessa had been acting distant lately, but relationships passed through phases.

Didn’t they?

His gaze drifted to the framed photo on his desk,him and Vanessa at Hakone, steam rising from the hot springs behind them. She was wrapped around his arm, laughing, eyes bright with the same warmth that had captivated him from their very first date.

He remembered how she used to cling to him like he was her safe place.

When has that warmth faded?

Jerome leaned back, closing his eyes. He knew he was overthinking again,something he had done a lot these past weeks. Work pressure, sleepless nights, upcoming product launches, endless meetings…

His phone buzzed sharply.

He sat up quickly but it wasn’t Vanessa.

It was his mother.

Mother: Come to the penthouse tonight. We need to talk.

Jerome frowned.

No greeting. No emojis. No soft words. Just a command, the usual.

Miranda Liu, founder and CEO of Linéa Cosmetics, had never been a woman who asked. She expected. She directed. She conquered. That was how she built an empire out of nothing while raising him alone.

Jerome typed back:

Jerome: Is everything alright?

Her response came immediately, almost impatient:

Mother: We’ll talk when you get here. Be home by 8. And don’t be late.

He stared at the message, unease curdling in his stomach.

She never asked him to come home for talks. Not unless something major was happening. Or unless she wanted something.

Jerome dropped his phone on the desk, rubbing his temples.

Work chaos.

Vanessa acting strange.

Mother sounding… urgent?

Something was shifting around him, and he didn’t know why.

Later That Evening at Minato Ward, Liu Penthouse

Jerome stepped into the penthouse exactly at 8 PM. The familiar scent of jasmine and polished wood greeted him, along with the soft glow of warm lighting.

“Jerome?” Miranda called from the living room.

He walked over, loosening his tie slightly.

His mother stood by the glass railing overlooking the city. She wore a fitted black dress, elegant and powerful, her long dark hair pinned back. She looked stunning,she always had an aura that commanded admiration without trying.

“You’re on time,” she said with a small smile. “Good.”

“You asked me to be,” Jerome replied lightly, though tension pulled at him. “What’s going on? You sounded… urgent.”

Miranda gestured to the sofa. “Sit. Have tea first.”

Jerome sat, though his nerves simmered. She poured him a cup of jasmine tea,a ritual she rarely initiated unless she had serious news.

“Mother,” he said slowly. “Is everything alright with the company?”

“Everything is better than ever,” she answered smoothly.

“Then what is this about?”

Miranda looked at him, her expression unreadable. “Jerome… There is something I need to tell you. Something important.”

He tensed. “What kind of ‘important’?”

She opened her mouth and his phone suddenly buzzed.

Vanessa.

His heart jumped. He lifted a hand apologetically. “Give me a second, it's Vanessa.”

Miranda frowned slightly, but nodded.

Jerome stepped aside and answered quietly, “Vanessa? Are you okay?”

There was a pause. Her voice came out soft… strange… nervous.

“Jerome… can we talk tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” His brows furrowed. “I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. Things have been complicated.”

“Complicated how?” he asked gently.

Before she could answer, a male voice sounded faintly in the background.

Low.

Deep.

Familiar.

“Vanessa? Are you ready?”

Jerome’s blood went cold.

He didn’t recognize the voice fully, but something about it pricked his memory,sharp, unpleasant.

Vanessa inhaled sharply. “I…I have to go.”

“Vanessa…”

The line clicked dead.

Jerome stared at his phone, heart pounding painfully.

Miranda watched him carefully from the sofa. “Something wrong?”

He swallowed, forcing steadiness into his voice. “She’s… busy.”

Miranda’s eyes softened just a fraction. “Jerome…”

He turned away, unable to hide the slight crack in his voice. “You were saying you wanted to tell me something?”

Miranda watched him for a moment longer,her gaze sharper now, as if assessing his emotional state and then she slowly said:

“We will talk tomorrow. You’re not in the right mind to hear it tonight.”

Jerome frowned. “Mother…”

“We’ll speak in the morning,” she repeated, firm but strangely gentle. “Sleep early, Jerome.”

He studied her.

For the first time in a very long time… she seemed conflicted.

Jerome didn’t know whether to feel relieved or scared.

As he left the penthouse that night, the

city lights blurry around him, one truth weighed heavy on his chest:

Something in his life was about to break.

He just didn’t know yet which piece would shatter first.