Eight years later
The sky was still dark when I came home.
It was six in the morning.
Cold air bit my skin as I climbed the old stairs to my small apartment.
My hands trembled from exhaustion.
My eyes felt heavy like stones.
Another long night shift at the hotel had drained every part of me.
All I wanted was to fall into bed, close my eyes, and rest for one small hour before my next job.
Just one hour.
That was the dream I chased every morning.
I pushed the door open quietly, hoping not to wake Tyler.
He always said he couldn't sleep when I made noise.
Maybe today, I thought, I could lie beside him for a few minutes.
Maybe he would hold me, and I could forget, for a short while, how hard my life had become.
But the moment I stepped inside, my heart stopped.
The smell hit first — perfume, sweat, and alcohol.
It was thick and sharp, the kind that turned your stomach.
Then I saw them.
Tyler was lying on our bed, half covered by the blanket.
Beside him was a woman.
Her hair was messy, her lipstick smeared on his neck.
Their clothes were scattered across the floor like trash.
For a second, I went completely still.
My body refused to move.
My mind refused to understand.
Then pain came rushing in — hot, sharp, endless.
I dropped my bag.
The sound made the woman open her eyes.
She gasped, sitting up fast and pulling the blanket to her chest.
Tyler's eyes opened next.
When he saw me, his face went pale.
"Aria!" he stammered. "It's not what you think—"
A laugh escaped me, small and broken.
"Really?" I said softly. "Then tell me, Tyler… what do I think?"
He looked lost for words.
The girl grabbed her dress from the chair and ran into the bathroom, her heels clattering on the tiles.
I stared at him.
My chest felt heavy, my heart breaking all over again — just like it had eight years ago.
"I work two jobs," I whispered.
"I clean rooms all night. I deliver pizza every morning. I pay the rent. I buy the food.
I keep this roof over our heads while you go out drinking and bringing women into my bed?"
He rubbed his eyes, sitting up.
"Aria, calm down. I was drunk. I didn't mean it."
"Didn't mean it?" My voice shook.
"You didn't mean to cheat? You didn't mean to destroy what little I have left?"
He reached for me, but I stepped back.
"Don't touch me."
His tone hardened. "You're overreacting. It was one mistake. You think you're perfect?"
My lips trembled.
"I'm not perfect, Tyler. But I'm loyal. I work hard. I give everything.
All I ever asked from you was honesty."
He rolled his eyes.
"Maybe if you weren't always tired and working, I wouldn't have to look somewhere else."
Those words hit harder than any slap.
Something inside me went quiet.
I wiped my tears and stood tall.
"Pack your things," I said.
"You're leaving today."
"What? Where will I go?"
"Not my problem. Maybe the club. Maybe her place."
He looked shocked, then laughed softly.
"You think you can make it alone, Aria? You need me."
I shook my head.
"I needed you once. Not anymore."
His jaw tightened.
"You'll come crawling back."
A small, sad smile touched my lips.
"No. I've crawled enough in this life."
I turned, picked up my small blue work bag, and walked out.
Behind me, I heard him mutter something, but I didn't listen.
I closed the door and left him — and the broken pieces of my heart — inside.
---
Outside, the morning air was cold and gray.
The city was slowly waking up.
Cars moved along the wet road, and people hurried to work with steaming coffee cups.
I pulled my thin jacket tighter and started walking.
The pain in my chest was heavy, but I kept moving.
Crying wouldn't pay rent.
Crying wouldn't fill my stomach.
I had learned that long ago.
Eight years ago, the world had turned its back on me —
the pack, my family, Jason.
Everyone.
Their voices still haunted my nights.
Liar. Traitor.
Even now, I could still see the rain, the torches, my father's burning eyes.
Every time I thought life might be kinder, something came to remind me how cruel it could be.
But I was still standing.
Still breathing.
Still fighting.
I reached the small pizza shop at seven sharp.
The red sign above the door flickered weakly — Sunrise Pizza.
The smell of cheese and baked dough filled the air.
It used to make me hungry.
Today, it only made me tired.
Two big security guards stood at the entrance, as always.
They never liked me.
Maybe they saw how small I was, how quiet, and thought I was easy to tease.
"Well, look who's late again," one said with a smirk.
"Maybe she stopped to pick another boyfriend from the trash," the other laughed.
I lowered my head and walked faster.
"Good morning," I said softly, trying to pass.
They shifted slightly, blocking my way.
"What's the hurry, sweetheart? Give us a smile."
I clutched the pizza bag tighter.
"I have work to do. Please move."
One leaned closer. "Say please again. I like how you say it."
Heat burned my cheeks — anger and shame mixing together.
"Move," I said firmly.
They blinked, surprised, then stepped aside.
"Go on then, little mouse."
As I walked past, one shoved my shoulder.
I stumbled, fell hard on my knees.
Pain shot through me as skin tore, blood sliding down my leg.
They laughed behind me.
"Oops," one said. "Didn't see you there."
My eyes stung with tears, but I held them back.
I stood slowly, brushing the dirt from my knees.
I wouldn't give them the joy of seeing me cry.
Without a word, I turned and walked inside.
---
The small room smelled of dough and soap.
Machines hummed. Ovens clicked. Workers shouted orders.
I hid my limp and tried to walk normally.
Mr. Benson, the manager, stood behind the counter with his arms crossed.
A red-faced man with a round belly and eyes that never smiled.
"Aria!" he barked. "You're late again!"
"I'm sorry, sir," I said quickly. "The bus was slow."
He frowned. "Always an excuse. You want me to believe you walk ten miles because of buses?"
I lowered my head.
"I'll stay after shift. I'll clean up. Please don't fire me."
He sighed.
"You're lucky I'm short on staff. Next time, you're gone. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
He pointed to a box on the counter.
"Deliver this to Rainbows Hotel, room 507.
Customer already called twice. Move!"
"Yes, sir," I said again.
I picked up the pizza bag. My knee throbbed, but I smiled anyway.
If I smiled, maybe people wouldn't look too close.
If they saw the blood, I'd lose this job too.
I pushed open the door and stepped back into the cold morning.
The sun peeked through the clouds, turning the wet road silver.
I pulled my jacket close and began walking.
The road to Rainbows Hotel was long and quiet.
Cars rushed past, splashing water on my shoes.
My knees hurt. My body ached. But I kept going.
One slow step after another.
I fixed my hair quickly and wiped my face.
I didn't want anyone to see how weak I felt.
Then I entered the hotel.
The air smelled of flowers and soap.
The golden walls glowed under soft lights.
I stepped into the elevator, hugging the warm pizza bag to my chest.
Room 507 — that was the order.
As the doors began to close, a faint scent reached me.
Familiar. Wild. Warm.
Like the forest I once called home.
My heart froze.
"No…" I whispered. "It can't be…"
The elevator chimed softly and opened on the fifth floor.
I stepped out, my hands trembling.
Down the quiet hallway, I saw the golden number 507 shining on a dark wooden door.
And from behind it came that same scent — stronger now.
My heartbeat quickened.
My fingers tightened around the bag.
After eight long years…
was he here?
Jason.