Aria’s POV.
Later that evening, as the formal dinner began to wind down and the crowd started to thin, I felt the need to escape the bustling hall.
The lively conversations, the clinking of glasses, and the hum of laughter had been comforting at first, but now it all felt overwhelming.
I needed space to breathe, to think. Quietly slipping out through the side doors, I stepped into the cool night air.
The breeze greeted me like an old friend, soft and refreshing against my skin. The gentle rustling of leaves in the nearby trees filled the silence, and for a moment, I let my eyes drift closed, allowing the night to calm my restless thoughts.
“Aria.”
My name, spoken in that deep, familiar voice, shattered my peaceful moment. My eyes snapped open, and I turned toward the sound. There he was-Zander-standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black trousers. His face was shadowed in the dim light, but the intensity of his gaze was unmistakable. It made my chest tighten, the memories rushing back faster than I could stop them.
I sighed, rubbing my temples as if that could ward off the headache I felt coming. “What do you want, Zander?” My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care. I was tired-tired of him, tired of the past, tired of everything.
He took a step closer, his jaw tightening as he looked at me. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and I almost thought he might walk away. But then he spoke, his voice steady but colder than I remembered. “I don’t want you back.”
The words hit like a slap, catching me completely off guard. I blinked, staring at him, unsure if I had heard him correctly. “Then why are you here?” I asked, my tone laced with disbelief.
He hesitated, his eyes flickering with something I couldn’t place. He looked down at the ground for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “Because I needed to see you,” he finally admitted, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “I needed to know…” He trailed off, running a hand through his dark hair in frustration. “I don’t even know what I needed,” he muttered, shaking his head.
A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, a shield against the emotions threatening to rise. “Well, I hope you found whatever it is you were looking for,” I said, my voice sharp with sarcasm. “Because I don’t have anything else to give you, Zander. Not anymore.”
His eyes darkened at my words, and for a moment, I thought he might argue, might try to defend himself. But then his expression hardened, the vulnerability disappearing as quickly as it had come.
He straightened his shoulders, his face a mask of cold indifference once more.
“Good,” he said, his tone cutting. “Because I meant what I said. I don’t want you back.”
I stared at him, the ache in my chest growing with every passing second. How was it possible to feel so much pain for someone who had already caused so much damage? My fingers curled into fists at my sides, and I took a deep breath, forcing the rising tears back down.
“Then this conversation is over,” I said finally, my voice low but firm.
I didn’t wait for him to respond. I turned on my heel and walked away, my steps quick and determined. I refused to look back, even though I could feel his eyes on me, burning into my back like a weight I couldn’t shake.
The walk back to my room felt longer than it should have, every step heavy with the emotions I was trying to push away.
By the time I reached my door and stepped inside, the silence of the small space greeted me like a familiar companion.
I sank onto the edge of my bed, my body feeling drained and my heart raw.
Seeing Zander again had reopened wounds I thought were healing. His voice, his presence, the way he looked at me-it all brought the pain rushing back to the surface.
But at the same time, it reminded me of something else. It reminded me of how far I had come, of the strength I had built in his absence.
He had been in my life once. But those days were gone. He wasn’t my world anymore, and I wasn’t the broken woman he had left behind.
I glanced around my little room, taking in the small but comforting space I had made my own. The faint scent of paint, fabric scraps, and the sketchpad on my desk surrounded me like a promise of the future I was creating. This was my world now-small, humble, but entirely mine.
Curling up under the soft blanket on my bed, I stared at the ceiling for a while, my thoughts drifting between the past and the future. The ache in my chest was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp as it had been before. Slowly, a small smile tugged at the corners of my lips.
The past would always be a part of me, but it no longer defined me. The person I had been with Zander was gone, and in her place was someone stronger, someone who was learning how to dream again.
As I closed my eyes, the image of Zander standing in the shadows faded away, replaced by the bright, hopeful vision of what lay ahead.
The past was behind me.
And the future? The future was mine to create.