From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 442: Unfinished Business.....1

He was still standing there when the call came in.

The noise hadn't settled yet. It never really did after a race. Voices layered over each other, footsteps cutting across wet concrete, laughter from one end, sharp instructions from officials on the other. Chlorine hung in the air, thick enough to taste. Towels dragged across shoulders, water dripping in uneven lines across the floor.

Jeffrey was saying something beside him—fast, animated, still riding whatever adrenaline hadn't left his body yet.

Dayo didn't catch most of it.

The phone vibrated in his hand first. Then again.

He glanced down.

Sharon.

He answered without stepping away yet.

"Yeah."

There was no greeting on her side. Just a slight shift in her breathing, like she had already been waiting for him to pick up.

"She's here."

For a second, nothing moved.

Not outside. Not inside.

Jeffrey's voice kept going, blurred now, distant even though he was right there. Someone brushed past Dayo's shoulder and muttered an apology. A whistle blew somewhere near the far end of the pool.

Dayo's grip on the phone tightened just enough to feel.

"Where?"

"She didn't come through the front," Sharon said. Calm. Controlled. The way she always was when something needed to be handled properly. "I moved her out. Private side."

He didn't respond immediately.

Not because he didn't understand.

Because he did.

Jeffrey tapped his arm lightly. "You even listening to me?"

Dayo turned his head just enough to look at him.

Jeffrey was smiling, still half in the race, half out of it. Water clung to the edges of his hairline. There was something open about his expression. No weight behind it yet.

Dayo nodded once.

"I'll catch you."

Jeffrey's smile dropped just a fraction. Not fully. Just enough to notice.

"Everything good?"

"Yeah."

It came out even. Nothing added. Nothing explained.

Jeffrey studied him for a second longer, like he wanted to ask more. Then he stepped back, lifting his hands in a small, easy gesture.

"Aight. Don't disappear on me."

Dayo didn't answer that. He had already turned.

He moved through the space without rushing. That was the thing about him. Even when something shifted, even when something pulled at him, it didn't show in his pace. His steps stayed measured. Same rhythm. Same control.

But his focus had narrowed.

Everything else fell behind it.

He pushed through the side exit. The air changed immediately. Cooler. Quieter. The noise from inside dulled into something distant, like it belonged somewhere else entirely.

The car was where it had been left.

He got in, shut the door, and for a moment, he didn't start the engine.

His hands rested on the wheel. Still.

Outside, a few people moved across the parking lot. Staff. Security. No one paying attention.

He exhaled once. Not heavy. Just enough.

Then the engine came alive.

—

The drive wasn't long.

It didn't need to be.

The city moved the same way it always did—cars sliding past each other, horns cutting through space, people crossing where they shouldn't, vendors leaning into traffic like they owned it.

Dayo didn't notice most of it.

Not consciously.

His eyes stayed on the road. His hands stayed steady.

But his mind wasn't empty.

It moved in pieces.

A face.

A moment.

A memory that didn't stay still long enough to settle into anything clear.

He didn't chase it.

That was the difference.

He let it come. Let it pass. Didn't hold it long enough for it to take shape.

The last time he had seen her came and went just as quickly.

He didn't linger there either.

The car slowed as he turned into the side road Sharon had mentioned. It was quieter here. Less movement. Buildings spaced out just enough to feel separate from everything else.

He pulled in, cut the engine.

For a second, the silence pressed in.

Then he stepped out.

—

Sharon was outside.

Leaning slightly against the side of the building, phone in hand. She looked up as he approached. Not surprised. Not rushed.

Just watching.

There was something different in the way she looked at him now. Not obvious. Not something anyone else would catch. But it was there.

Measured.

Like she was placing pieces together without saying anything out loud.

"You got here fast," she said.

Dayo didn't answer that.

His gaze had already shifted past her, toward the door.

"She inside?"

Sharon nodded once.

Then she straightened, pushing off the wall.

"She didn't want attention," she added. "Came in quiet."

He took that in without reacting.

Sharon hesitated for half a second. Not enough to turn into a question. Just enough to show she was thinking.

Then she stepped aside.

"I'll give you space."

Dayo met her eyes briefly. There was nothing in his expression that explained anything. Nothing that needed to.

She held that look for a moment longer, then moved past him, already dialing someone else as she walked away.

No questions.

No assumptions.

Just awareness.

—

The door opened without resistance.

Inside was still.

Not silent. Just… contained.

A small space. Clean. Minimal. Light coming in from one side, soft and even.

She was already there.

Seated.

Not turned fully toward the door. Not expecting a dramatic entrance. Just… there.

For a second, he didn't move.

Not forward. Not back.

Just there.

She looked up.

And that was it.

No shift in the room. No sound cutting through the space. Nothing external changing.

Just that moment.

Recognition didn't come with surprise.

It came with something quieter.

Something that had been there before either of them walked into the room.

Dayo stepped in, closing the door behind him.

The sound was soft. Controlled.

He didn't approach immediately.

A few steps in, then he stopped again.

Distance still between them.

Not far.

Not close.

Enough to feel.

She didn't stand.

Didn't rush to fill the space.

Her hands rested lightly against each other. Fingers still. Shoulders relaxed, but not loose.

He moved again.

Slower this time.

Then sat.

Not directly across.

Slight angle.

Not confrontational. Not distant either.

Just… placed.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The air didn't feel heavy.

It felt full.

Like too much had already been said somewhere else, at some other time, and now there wasn't a clear place to begin again.

Dayo leaned back slightly. Not fully. Just enough to settle into the chair.

His eyes found her again.

Held.

Then shifted.

Then came back.

Small things.

Unnoticeable to anyone else.

Not to them.

She adjusted her hand once. Just once. Then left it where it was.

He inhaled lightly. The kind of breath that doesn't draw attention unless you're looking for it.

She noticed.

Of course she did.

Time didn't stretch.

It folded.

Everything that had happened between them didn't sit in the past the way it should have.

It hovered.

Right there.

Unspoken.

Untouched.

Waiting.

Dayo's jaw tightened for a brief second. Then relaxed again.

He leaned forward slightly this time, resting his forearms against his knees. Hands clasped loosely.

He didn't look at her immediately.

His gaze dropped, then lifted again.

Met hers.

Held.

There was something in his eyes that flickered. Not long enough to stay. Not clear enough to name.

Gone as quickly as it came.

She saw it anyway.

Her lips parted slightly.

Closed again.

Her shoulders shifted. Barely.

A breath she didn't mean to take.

They both knew this space.

Knew what it did.

Knew what it could turn into if either of them pushed even a little too far.

So they didn't.

Not yet.

Outside, a car passed. The sound filtered in, muted.

Neither of them looked away.

Dayo's fingers moved once against each other. A small, absent motion. Then still again.

He leaned back this time. Fully.

Like he was settling into something he hadn't decided on.

His eyes stayed on her.

Not searching.

Not avoiding.

Just there.

She held that gaze for a moment longer than she should have.

Then broke it.

Looked down.

Then back up again.

Like she hadn't meant to look away at all.

The corner of his mouth moved. Not quite a smile. Not quite anything.

Just a reaction he didn't follow through on.

Silence again.

But not empty.

Never empty.

It carried everything they weren't saying.

Everything they weren't ready to say.

Everything they might never say.

Dayo shifted slightly in his seat.

His shoulders squared just a fraction.

Like he was about to speak.

Then didn't.

She noticed that too.

Her fingers pressed lightly against each other. Then released.

A small exhale left her.

Not heavy.

Not noticeable unless you were listening.

He was.

Of course he was.

Their eyes met again.

Longer this time.

No interruption.

No movement.

Just that.

And for a second—

It felt like something might actually break through.

Like one of them might say it.

Something real.

Something that would change the direction of everything that followed.

But neither of them moved.

Neither of them gave in to that moment.

They let it sit.

Let it pass.

Let it settle back into the same controlled space they had both chosen the second he walked in.

Her lips parted again.

This time, she didn't stop it.

Her voice came out steady.

Low.

Controlled.

"How have you been?"