Door closed behind me with a soft click.
I stood still for a moment, breathing hard. My heart was still racing, my hands shaking so badly I almost dropped the pizza box again.
The air inside the tiny storage room smelled like flour, dust, and old oil.
I pressed my back against the wall and slid down slowly until I was sitting on the cold floor.
He was here.
Jason.
The name echoed in my head like thunder.
I had seen him walk through that door, calm and confident, just like before.
The way everyone turned to look at him.
The way those men froze when they felt his power.
He hadn't changed.
Still tall, still strong, still carrying that same quiet fire that used to make my heart beat too fast.
Except now, seeing him again didn't make my chest warm — it made it ache.
Eight years.
Eight long, lonely years.
And the first thing he did when he saw me was take down two men like it meant nothing.
I hated that he made it look easy.
I hated that part of me still felt safe when he was there.
"Don't be stupid," I whispered to myself. "He's not your savior."
My fingers brushed against the scar on my wrist, the one I got the night his father banished me.
That night still haunted me — the shouting, the lies, the chains, the way Jason just stood there while they dragged me away.
I had looked at him, hoping he would say something, do something.
But he only looked back with those same blue eyes, cold and silent.
That was the night I learned that promises meant nothing.
Now he was standing in front of me again, with that same voice that could make my heart break and heal at the same time.
Why now?
Why after all this time?
I pressed my palms against my face.
Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
I had cried enough for him once. Never again.
"Aria?"
It was Mia, the girl who worked the counter. She peeked in through the door.
"You okay? Those guys were jerks."
I forced a small smile. "I'm fine."
"You sure? That man… the one in the suit… he looked like he knew you."
My chest tightened. "He didn't," I lied. "He's just a customer."
Mia shrugged. "Well, whoever he is, he's scary. But kind of… hot."
I almost laughed. Almost.
"Yeah," I said quietly, "he's always been both."
After she left, I stayed in the small room a while longer.
I needed to calm down.
When my shift ended, I changed into my old hoodie and jeans, tucked my tips into my pocket, and stepped out into the rain.
The cold drops hit my skin, but I didn't mind.
The rain always reminded me I was still alive.
The street lights flickered above me as I walked home.
My shoes splashed through puddles, and cars rushed past, throwing dirty water on my legs.
But it didn't matter. I'd had worse days.
My apartment wasn't really an apartment.
It was one small room on the top floor of a crumbling building.
The walls were cracked, the window barely closed, and sometimes the ceiling leaked when it rained too hard.
I pushed the door open and let out a sigh.
It smelled like dust and wet clothes, but it was mine.
I threw my bag on the old couch and sat down.
The silence was heavy.
Sometimes I wished I had someone to talk to, but most nights, silence was better than memories.
I looked around — one broken lamp, a few books, a photo frame turned face down on the table.
I reached for it, my hand shaking, and turned it over.
It was the old picture.
Me and Jason, years ago.
I was smiling, holding a bunch of wildflowers. He was standing behind me, his arm around my shoulder.
We looked happy.
I stared at it for a long time.
Then I whispered, "Why did you let them do that to me?"
My voice cracked.
I pressed the photo to my chest and closed my eyes.
The thunder outside grew louder. The window rattled from the wind.
And for a second, I thought I felt his scent again — clean, warm, sharp like pine and rain.
I froze.
No.
It couldn't be.
I stood up fast and looked through the window.
The street below was mostly empty, except for a black car parked across the road.
It had been there for two nights now.
My heart started to beat faster.
"Calm down," I told myself. "It's just a car."
But a voice in the back of my head whispered, He's watching you.
I closed the curtain and stepped back.
I couldn't let him find me.
Not again.
I needed to keep moving, keep working, stay invisible.
Because if Jason ever learned the truth — about what happened after I was banished, about the scars they left behind — he'd destroy everything.
And I couldn't let that happen.
I'd built this fragile life with my own hands, out of nothing.
I sat back down, hugging my knees to my chest.
The rain fell harder.
Thunder rolled through the sky.
"I don't need him," I whispered. "I don't need anyone."
But deep inside, a small voice whispered back, You're lying.
I buried my face in my arms and cried quietly until the storm outside covered the sound.