And yet Henry sat in the middle of his living room, staring at a glass of wine he had not touched for over ten minutes.
Again.
His assistant stood nearby, tablet in hand, confused.
“Sir, the investors are on hold.”
No response.
“Sir?”
Henry blinked slowly.
“What?”
“The investors, sir?”
He frowned slightly.
“Tell them to wait.”
“They have been waiting for ten minutes.”
Henry leaned back.
“They can wait ten more.”
The assistant hesitated.
“Sir, they are very important people.”
Henry looked up at him calmly.
“So am I.”
The assistant swallowed.
“Yes, sir.”
Henry finally picked up his glass, took a sip, paused, then muttered,
“Bread inside tea.”
He let out a small laugh and shook his head.
“This girl.”
He stood up and began pacing slowly. Her voice echoed in his mind.
“You were drowning like bread inside tea.”
He chuckled again, then stopped. His expression changed slightly—more serious now, more thoughtful.
“What is this?” he whispered.
Right on cue, Tunde walked in again without knocking.
“Henry! I heard you almost died.”
Henry did not even turn.
“I did not die.”
Tunde dropped his bag dramatically.
“Do not skip the important part. You almost did.”
Henry sighed.
“I am fine.”
Tunde circled him like an investigator.
“Hm. No injury, no panic, no drama.”
He leaned closer.
“Something is wrong.”
Henry raised an eyebrow.
“I fell into the ocean. What else do you want?”
Tunde snapped his fingers.
“I know.”
Henry looked at him.
“You met a woman.”
Silence.
Henry blinked. Once. Twice.
“What?”
Tunde clapped his hands.
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