The billionaire's sweet editor
Chapter 111: Lucas: Success

Chapter 111: Lucas: Success

I lean back in my chair, staring at the stacks of magazines piled on my desk, each one a testament to the hard work my team and I had put in over the past few months. As the Head of the Magazine Department, I had poured my heart and soul into every issue, but today is different.

Today, the thrill of our latest release feels muted, overshadowed by the heavy weight of Iris’s words from last night echoing in my mind: "I need space."

When she had said it, the world had momentarily stopped. I had watched her expression shift from frustration to sadness, and it had pierced through me like a knife. I never wanted to hurt her, yet I felt the distance growing between us, and I knew I had to respect her choice.

But the thought of being apart from her feels unbearable.

I glance at the clock on my wall, it’s ticking loud in the otherwise quiet office. Aside from that, the air conditioner and the diffuser are the only machines running here. Standing, I take my laptop and head over to the conference room for a meeting scheduled with my team and other departments related to the magazine’s success.

My team has already gathered in the conference room to discuss the magazine’s launch performance, but even when they stand to address me when I enter the room, even when I sit and they start telling me the progress we have made, my mind is elsewhere.

I try to focus, to shake off the thoughts of Iris, but every time I close my eyes or when my mind goes blank from all the information dump of the things I already know, I see her face—her eyes glistening with unshed tears, her voice trembling as she asked for space.

"Lucas?" A voice breaks through my reverie. It’s Dion, one of my lead editors. "We just got the sales figures in for the new issue."

I force a smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside. "How did we do?"

Dion’s face lightened up with excitement. "Incredible! We’ve seen a 30% increase in sales compared to last month! The new design and the feature articles are resonating with our audience. If we keep this up and our sales go up by ten percent, we will steal Bonnie’s number one spot, for good this time."

The entire room claps as hums of approval and celebration fill the space. I should be clapping too.

This should be a moment to celebrate, a victory for the entire team, and for my unfulfilled dream that was supposed to die once I left the department this coming month. But as the congratulations echo around me, I feel hollow instead of satisfied.

However, I clapped along with everyone else, forcing enthusiasm into my voice, but deep inside, I was a storm of conflicting emotions. All were directed towards Iris and me. The fight we had that shouldn’t even be a fight keeps burning my core. It’s probably the reason why she didn’t attend the meeting, stating how she was sick even though she didn’t show any signs of being sick.

She’s really keeping her distance from me like she said she wanted to do until she collects herself. But when will she? I don’t know. It’s killing me. All this waiting and agony as I try to run my mind on whether to keep pestering her or let her move at her own pace.

"Great job, everyone!" I say with a fake stretched smile, trying to sound genuinely pleased so I don’t kill the vibe and oust that Iris and I fought, though I’m pretty sure the intelligent ones have already caught on to what is going on. We haven’t really been professional for the last few days. "This is a huge achievement for us."

As they cheer and exchange high-fives, I catch Mary’s eye. She seems to notice my distraction, her smile faltering for just a moment. Then she mouths an "Are you okay" to me and I slightly nod, to which she gives me a thumbs up.

I appreciated her concern, but I couldn’t let anyone see how much I was struggling. Especially not her. I don’t want Iris to decide to talk to me because she feels guilty about me sulking because I know as hell Mary will tell her the moment I decide to dump my troubles on her.

Besides, I have responsibilities, and a team to lead. I can’t be looking weak when we’re supposed to be happy. We’ve waited for results like these for too long, it’s about time our wishes became a reality.

But all I can think about is Iris. What does "space" even mean for us? Will she reconsider her decision, or is this the beginning of something I fear? Separation? But fuck we just started dating, isn’t it a bit too soon to be fighting like this?

I always believed that communication is the key needed to mend relationships or keep them burning, but I can’t even do the one thing I’ve always known. Here I am, forced to respect Iris’s need for distance while feeling utterly lost without her. I’m so pitiful.

"Okay guys, let’s keep up this spirit and head over to start planning for our next article. The theme has already been sent to your respective heads and groups. Make sure you check it out, brainstorm ideas that can make a difference good enough to shake the magazine world to the core and bring us better results than today."

"Yes, sir!" Everyone answers with enthusiasm like soldiers about to do a drill. Soon, they start rummaging through their bags, packing, and leaving until it’s only me and Mary in the office.

She comes to sit next to me, without any hint of mockery on her. Touching my shoulder, she leans her face closer so no one can hear us and whispers in my ear: "it’s going to be okay. Iris always comes around, maybe she just wants to clear her head am figure something out. Just give her a bit more time and space."

There she goes repeating the same thing Iris told me last night.

"How do you know?"

"Well, she has an asshole for a mother whom she forgives all the time no matter what she does to Iris. If that isn’t enough for me or you to believe in her, then I don’t know what is." Shrugging, Mary stands and leaves with a gentle smile on her face.

After the meeting, I retreat to my office, closing the door behind me. I need a moment to breathe, to gather my thoughts. I sit at my desk, staring blankly at the computer screen, the numbers and figures blurring together. The success of the magazine feels like a cruel irony—the one thing I should be celebrating coming at the wrong time and getting overshadowed by my fucking heartbreak.

I pick up my phone and sigh, scrolling through my and Iris’s past messages. I had sent her a note earlier, asking if we could talk, but I haven’t received a response yet. I respect her wishes, I really do, but the silence is deafening and alien. I want to reach out, to tell her how much I care, but I don’t want to push her further away.

Just then, my phone buzzes with a notification. It’s an email from the marketing department, highlighting the positive feedback from our readers. I read through the accolades, the excitement in the words almost palpable. The magazine is thriving, and yet I felt like I was sinking.

I stand up and walk to the window, looking out at the city skyline. The sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the buildings, but the beauty of it felt lost on me. Memories of Iris flood my mind again—our late-night talks, her laughter, the way she’d light up when discussing her own projects.

How had we gotten here? I thought we were building something solid together, but now it feels like sand slipping through my fingers. I wanted to fight for us, to bridge the gap that had formed, but I don’t know how.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes again. This time, it’s s a news alert. The headline reads: "Local Magazine Achieves Record Sales." My heart sinks. I should be thrilled, but the joy is tainted. I feel like I am celebrating a victory in a war that was still being fought within my heart.

I can’t shake the feeling that something essential is slipping away from me—something that went beyond professional success.

As the evening wore on, I tried to focus on work, but the numbers and graphs blur together. I pick up my phone one more time, hesitating before deciding to send her a message. "Iris, I just want you to know that I’m here when you’re ready to talk. I miss you."

I hit send, the words feeling both inadequate and necessary. I know I have to give her the space she needs, but I also hope she will remember what we have—a partnership built on trust and love.

Deciding not to sulk anymore after sending the message, I pick myself up and pack my briefcase, leaving the office empty and unattended, just like my poor heart.

★★★★★