✦ Ethan ✦
The city looked nothing like the dreams he once painted in the dark.
Ethan stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of the penthouse he now shared with Madison, gazing out at the jagged skyline like it might offer some absolution. Morning hadn't yet broken, but his thoughts had been awake for hours, gnawing at him like guilt with teeth.
Behind him, Madison's voice sliced through the silence.
"You're up early again. Couldn't sleep?" she asked, not bothering to hide her irritation. Her voice had lost its sugar a long time ago.
Ethan didn't turn. "Just thinking."
"About your pitch meeting?" she guessed, then added, "Or is this another 'Claire morning'?"
The way she said Claire's name—like it was poison on her tongue—made his jaw clench.
He should've expected that. Madison never missed a chance to remind him of what he'd left behind.
She moved into the kitchen, the whisper of silk from her robe the only sound as she poured herself black coffee. Her heels clicked against the marble floor, polished and perfect—like everything else in her world. Sterile. Sharp. Shiny.
"You're not going to ruin today, are you?" she said as she leaned against the counter. "This is your big moment."
Ethan said nothing. His thoughts were too loud. Claire's face had haunted his dreams again. Not in anger. But in quiet, aching stillness.
✦ Flashback – Six Months Ago ✦
It started with a drink.
A rooftop bar. City lights. Madison's eyes like polished mirrors.
"You're too big for a small-town girl," she said, swirling her wine like it held the future. "You've got hunger. That's rare."
Ethan had laughed then. Nervously. But he hadn't walked away.
She leaned in, close enough to smell her perfume. Expensive. Distant. "I can give you the world. But you have to let go of what's holding you back."
He should've left. He should've run.
Instead, he kissed her.
And by the time he realized what it cost, he'd already traded diamonds for glitter.
✦ Present Day ✦
"Did I choose better?" he asked her now, voice low.
Madison's lips curved. "You chose forward."
But the weight in his chest said otherwise.
He turned from the window and walked into the kitchen, brushing past her to grab his phone. Madison watched him, eyes narrowed.
"You still haven't deleted her number?" she asked coldly.
"I didn't say I'd erase her."
"You said you were done with her."
Ethan pocketed the phone. "I said I left. That's not the same."
The tension crackled. And for the first time, he didn't care if she noticed his regret.
✦ Claire ✦
Claire flipped the "Closed" sign on the flower shop door just as the wind picked up, tugging at her hair. The town was quiet, golden under the setting sun, and the scent of gardenias still lingered on her hands.
This place had once been her mother's dream. Now, it was her sanctuary.
It kept her busy.
It kept her from remembering.
The bell above the door jingled.
"We're closed," she called out automatically, turning—then paused. "Oh. Hey."
Dean Rutherford stepped inside, his tall frame filling the doorway. He offered a sheepish grin.
"Didn't see the sign."
Claire softened. "You always say that."
He shrugged, walking closer. "I brought you something."
From behind his back, he pulled out a to-go cup of coffee and a small paper bag.
She smiled. "What's this?"
"Bribery. For a sunflower."
Claire laughed—really laughed, the sound surprising even her. "You know, most people bring flowers to the florist, not the other way around."
Dean's voice was quiet but sincere. "Most people aren't trying to brighten your day."
Their eyes met. The air between them shifted.
Claire looked away first.
Later that night, Claire sat in her apartment above the shop, curled on the couch with a book she wasn't really reading.
She glanced at her phone.
No calls. No messages.
She hated that part of her still hoped.
Just once.
Just one message. A question. An apology. Something.
She scrolled to Ethan's contact. Stared. Then turned the phone face down on the table.
"Don't be a fool," she whispered to herself.
✦ Ethan ✦
The pitch meeting was a disaster.
Ethan stood outside the building afterward, tie loosened, hair a mess from running his hands through it a hundred times.
The investors had seemed distracted. Madison talked over him half the time. The one guy who looked interested had asked questions Ethan didn't have answers for—and Madison didn't bother to help.
She'd stayed behind, smiling at people he didn't trust, whispering with men whose names he hadn't learned.
By the time he slid into the back of the cab alone, the silence was deafening.
His phone buzzed.
It was a photo from Madison—her laughing in a champagne dress next to someone new. A stranger. Too close.
Caption:Making moves. Wish you stayed 😉
Ethan stared at it. Then deleted it.
He didn't respond.
Instead, he pulled up Claire's contact. His thumb hovered over the screen. His heartbeat quickened.
But he didn't call.
Not yet.
✦ Claire ✦
It rained that night.
Claire stood on the balcony, barefoot, watching the drops chase each other down the railing.
She was remembering the last time it rained. The night Ethan left.
He hadn't even had the decency to say goodbye properly. Just a voicemail and a suitcase full of silence.
She'd cried until the morning bled into her windows. Then she'd put on lipstick and opened the shop.
That's how she'd survived since. One breath. One petal. One lie at a time.
Dean had texted earlier. Hope you liked the coffee.
She typed a thank-you, hesitated… then deleted it.
She wasn't ready.
But maybe… one day.
✦ Ethan ✦
Two nights later, the cracks widened.
The investor pulled out. The funding dried up. Madison was gone by morning—with a text and an apology wrapped in PR lingo.
Ethan stared at the apartment. Empty now. Cold.
He didn't feel rage.
He felt relief.
And regret.
So much regret.
He pulled up Claire's number again.
This time, he didn't think.
He called.
✦ Claire ✦
The phone buzzed as Claire was locking up the shop.
She glanced down absently.
Ethan.
Her breath caught. She froze.
The name burned like a brand on her screen.
She didn't answer.
Not yet.
But the ghosts were stirring.
And her heart didn't know what to do with the sound of his name.