Aria’s POV.
The next few days passed in a blur, each moment blending into the next as so much changed so quickly. True to his word, Daniel took care of everything, leaving me both stunned and deeply grateful. He contacted the university in London, pulling whatever strings were necessary to secure my enrollment in their fashion design program.
It wasn’t just a matter of making a few calls-he worked tirelessly, coordinating with admissions, ensuring the process was seamless, and navigating every obstacle that came up. He didn’t just stop there. He helped me arrange my travel, find housing, and made sure I had all the paperwork I needed to start fresh. He handled everything with such precision and care that it almost felt surreal, as if I were living someone else’s life.
On the morning of our flight to London, I stood in my room, staring at the suitcase lying open on my bed. It was strange and jarring to condense my entire life into a single bag. The thought of leaving behind so many things-both physical and emotional-was bittersweet. But at the same time, it felt freeing, as though I was shedding the weight of everything I’d been carrying for far too long. All the pain, the heartache, and the memories of the person I used to be-things I didn’t want to take with me-could stay here, left behind like old baggage. This suitcase wasn’t just holding my clothes; it was holding the remnants of my old life, and packing it felt like the first step toward something new.
A soft knock at the door startled me from my thoughts, and as I turned, I saw Daniel standing in the doorway. His presence, calm and steady as always, filled the space with an unspoken reassurance.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice calm but gentle, a quiet encouragement that I hadn’t known I needed.
I nodded, forcing a small smile as I reached for the handle of my suitcase. “I think so,” I replied, though the truth was, I wasn’t entirely sure. Leaving meant saying goodbye to everything I’d known, even the parts of me I wasn’t proud of. But there was no turning back now.
He smiled, a warm, genuine expression that made my chest tighten in an unfamiliar way. “Good. Let’s go.” His simple words carried more weight than he likely realized.
—
The flight to London was long, and under normal circumstances, I might have found the hours unbearable. But Daniel made it easier, his steady presence once again grounding me. He talked about the city, describing its history, its culture, and the vibrant life that pulsed through its streets.
He told me about the university, about the opportunities that awaited me, and his excitement was infectious. For the first time in weeks-maybe even months-I felt a small spark of hope flicker to life. I found myself smiling as he spoke, imagining a version of myself that fit into this new world he was painting for me.
When we landed, the city greeted us with its usual gray skies and chilly air. The dampness clung to my skin, and the faint drizzle made the world feel fresh, as though it had been washed clean just for me.
To anyone else, the weather might have seemed dreary, but to me, it felt perfect. It was a new beginning, exactly what I had been craving, and I soaked it in like sunlight.
Daniel didn’t waste any time helping me settle into my new apartment, a cozy little space just a short walk from the university. It wasn’t large, but it didn’t need to be. The moment I stepped inside, I felt a sense of peace I hadn’t experienced in what felt like forever. The apartment was mine-entirely mine. No one else’s expectations or judgments lingered here. It was a blank slate, waiting for me to fill it with a life I could finally call my own.
As I stood in the middle of the apartment, taking it all in, Daniel turned to me with a soft smile. “Welcome to your new life, Aria,” he said, his words carrying a quiet sense of finality that made my chest swell.
I laughed softly, though tears were already prickling at the corners of my eyes. I didn’t bother wiping them away this time; they weren’t tears of pain or sadness but something else entirely. “Thank you, Daniel,” I said, my voice trembling with emotion. “For everything. I don’t think I could have done this without you.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Daniel replied, his expression sobering slightly. “Just focus on building the life you deserve. That’s all I want for you.” His words were simple, but they carried so much weight. They made me feel seen in a way I hadn’t felt in years.
I nodded, my heart swelling with a mix of gratitude and determination. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt hopeful. Truly hopeful.
This was my chance to start over. To rebuild myself from the ashes of everything I had been through.
But deep down, I knew there were still truths I hadn’t shared with Daniel. I hadn’t told him everything-not about never being able to shift, not about how I had been engaged to Kael before Zander. Those secrets weighed on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. Not yet. I didn’t want him to see me as a puppet, passed from one hand to another, with no control over my own life. Maybe one day I’d tell him everything. But for now, it was enough to have said what I had.
For now, it was enough just to begin.