When I woke again, the fever had gone down.

Adrian was still there.

He sat beside the window with his laptop open, answering emails as though spending the night inside his employee’s tiny apartment was a perfectly normal executive responsibility.

I stared at him.

“You stayed?”

Without looking up, he answered:

“You were sick.”

“That doesn’t explain why the director personally came here.”

This time he looked at me.

“Would you prefer HR?”

I shut my mouth.

On the table was medicine, bottled water, fruit, and a container of oatmeal I had apparently insulted several times during the night.

Then I remembered something worse.

My fever dream.

The tournament.

The disguise.

Adrian falling for the mysterious male player.

I suddenly became very awake.

“Did I say anything strange last night?”

He closed the laptop.

“A lot.”

My heart sank.

“What exactly?”

“You complained about my oatmeal.”

“That’s normal.”

“You called me arrogant.”

“Also normal.”

Then he leaned back.

“And you kept saying the name Zero.”

My entire body froze.

Zero.

My brother’s old gaming username.

The identity I had borrowed nine years earlier.

Adrian watched my face.

“You know him?”

“No.”

Too fast.

His eyes narrowed.

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“Because after that tournament, Zero disappeared completely.”

I pulled the blanket higher.

“Maybe he got bored.”

“I looked for him for two years.”

My stomach twisted.

I knew.

The gaming forums had been full of Adrian searching for the mysterious player who defeated him.

Back then, I had thought the whole situation was hilarious.

Until Adrian and I met again in university.

This time, as Daniela.

He didn’t recognize me.

We became friends.

Then something more.

I never told him the truth.

At first because it was embarrassing.

Later because I was afraid.

And eventually because I loved him too much to risk losing him.

Then five years ago, everything collapsed.

Adrian stood.

“You vanished once as Zero.”

My heart stopped.

Then he looked directly at me.

“And five years ago, Daniela Jiménez vanished too.”

I forced a laugh.

“You’re connecting unrelated things.”

“Am I?”

He walked toward my desk.

On the shelf sat an old gaming trophy.

I had forgotten it was there.

My brother’s name was engraved on the bottom.

Adrian picked it up.

“This tournament.”

I said nothing.

His expression changed.

“You were there.”

“My brother played.”

“No.”

He turned the trophy over.

“There’s a photograph online from the finals.”

I stopped breathing.

“The player used his left hand for the last round because his right wrist was injured.”

He looked at me.

“You’re left-handed.”

I closed my eyes.

Damn Adrian and his memory.

“Daniela.”

I sighed.

“Yes.”

His face went completely blank.

“Yes what?”

“I was Zero.”

Silence.

Not ordinary silence.

The kind where nine years rearrange themselves inside another person’s head.

Adrian slowly sat down.

“You?”

“Yes.”

“The boy…”

“Not a boy.”

“The player I spent two years looking for…”

“Me.”

He stared at the wall.

Then at me.

Then back at the wall.

Finally:

“Your brother knew?”

“He was the one whose identity I stole.”

Adrian covered his face.

For several seconds, I couldn’t tell whether he was furious or laughing.

Then I heard it.

He was laughing.

“You ruined my entire reputation.”

“What?”

“For almost a year, everyone thought I had fallen desperately in love with a male gamer.”

“That wasn’t my fault.”

“You chased me after the match and asked for my number!”

“I liked you!”

“As a man?”

“I was wearing a baseball cap!”

He looked at me in disbelief.

“That is not an explanation.”

Despite myself, I started laughing too.

For the first time since walking into his office, the five-year wall between us cracked.

Then his expression changed.

“Why didn’t you tell me later?”

The laughter disappeared.

“Because by then it was too late.”

“When we started dating?”

I nodded.

“I thought you’d feel humiliated.”

“I would have been furious.”

“Exactly.”

“For maybe three days.”

“I didn’t know that.”

His voice became colder.

“So instead you lied.”

I looked away.

“Yes.”

“And then you left me.”

There it was.

The real wound.

I took a breath.

“My mother became sick.”

Adrian went still.

“You never told me.”

“She needed surgery abroad. My brother and I had relatives there. Everything happened quickly.”

“That explains leaving the country.”

He looked at me.

“It doesn’t explain disappearing from my life.”

I lowered my eyes.

“Your mother came to see me.”

His face changed.

“What?”

The day before my flight, Adrian’s mother had arrived at my apartment.

She knew about Zero.

She knew about my mother’s medical debt.

And she knew Adrian had rejected an opportunity overseas because he wanted to stay with me.

She placed a check on the table.

I refused it.

Then she said something that worked much better than money.

“If you really love him, stop letting him ruin his future trying to rescue yours.”

I was twenty-two.

Terrified.

My mother was ill.

Adrian was prepared to sacrifice a career opportunity because of me.

So I convinced myself leaving without explanation was noble.

I blocked him.

Changed numbers.

Went abroad with my family.

And spent five years pretending I had made the mature decision.

Adrian’s jaw tightened.

“My mother did that?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I thought she was right.”

He stood abruptly.

“She wasn’t.”

“I know that now.”

“You decided for me.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t even give me the dignity of choosing my own life.”

That hurt because it was true.

“I’m sorry.”

He walked toward the window.

For a long time, neither of us spoke.

Then Adrian asked:

“Did you take her money?”

“No.”

He turned.

“Never?”

“I mailed the check back.”

Something in his expression softened.

But not enough.

Good.

I didn’t deserve instant forgiveness.

A week later, I returned to work.

Adrian treated me professionally.

Almost painfully so.

No late-night conversations.

No personal questions.

No mention of Zero.

I thought that was the end.

Then his mother arrived at the company.

I recognized her immediately.

She entered Adrian’s office.

Twenty minutes later, voices rose behind the closed door.

Then the door opened.

Adrian stood there.

His face was cold.

“Daniela.”

Every employee suddenly became extremely interested in their computer screens.

I walked inside.

His mother looked at me.

She seemed older.

But not embarrassed.

Adrian placed an old bank record on the desk.

“My mother admits she visited you.”

I nodded.

He looked at her.

“Tell her the rest.”

She tightened her lips.

“It was necessary.”

“What was?”

Adrian’s voice sharpened.

“Tell her.”

His mother finally looked at me.

“I contacted the overseas program and told them Adrian had already accepted.”

I stared at her.

Adrian hadn’t known that either.

She had manipulated both of us.

She made me believe I was destroying his future.

Then she made him believe I had abandoned him because I never cared.

For five years, each of us had lived inside a lie designed by someone who believed she knew what was best.

Adrian’s mother stood.

“I wanted to protect my son.”

He replied quietly:

“Then you should have trusted me to live my own life.”

She left.

Adrian remained behind the desk.

I didn’t know what to say.

Finally he asked:

“Do you still want to quit?”

“The job?”

“Yes.”

I considered it.

“No.”

“Good.”

He picked up my latest project report.

“You’re annoyingly qualified.”

I almost smiled.

Then he added:

“But we need boundaries.”

I nodded.

“I agree.”

So that was how we started again.

Not as lovers.

Not immediately.

As two people finally telling the truth.

Months passed.

I worked.

He stopped punishing me with silence.

We argued about budgets.

He criticized my presentations.

I told him his meetings were too long.

And occasionally, late in the evening, he would send me an old eSports clip with one message:

Zero cheated.

I always replied:

Zero won. Accept reality.

Six months later, the company sponsored an eSports charity tournament.

Adrian registered without telling me.

Then he placed a second controller on my desk.

“Play.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Against you?”

“Yes.”

“You know what happened last time.”

“I’ve had nine years to prepare.”

The entire department gathered around.

I beat him again.

Barely.

Adrian stared at the screen.

Then at me.

“Unbelievable.”

I smiled.

“You fell in love with talent.”

His ears actually turned red.

That might have been the greatest victory of my life.

After everyone left, we stood alone beneath the tournament lights.

Adrian looked at me.

“No disappearing this time.”

I nodded.

“No disappearing.”

“No deciding what’s best for me without asking.”

“Agreed.”

“And no pretending to be my male rival.”

“No promises.”

He laughed.

Then held out his hand.

I looked at it.

Five years earlier, I thought love meant leaving before I became someone’s burden.

Adrian had spent those same years believing love could disappear without explanation.

We had both been wrong.

I took his hand.

Not because the past had vanished.

But because, finally, neither of us was hiding from it.

And this time, when Adrian Lu asked me to stay,

I let myself choose the answer instead of running from it.