Daniel's POV
I hadn’t thought of Jasmine in months. Honestly, I had convinced myself she was a closed chapter, a bad decision buried under the weight of my failures.
So when I opened my door and saw her standing there, hair stringy and face hollowed out like a ghost from a past I didn’t want to remember, the breath lodged in my throat.
“Jasmine?”
Her lips twisted into a smile, but it wasn’t the one I remembered. This one was brittle. Sharp. Desperate.
“Surprise,” she said, voice raspy and low. “Miss me?”
I didn’t. But I didn’t say that.
Instead, I stepped halfway out the door, ready to block her from coming in. “What the hell are you doing here?”
She brushed past me anyway, ignoring the silent protest in my posture, her heels clacking against the tiled floor like she owned the place.
“You look good, Daniel,” she said, glancing around with a faint sneer. “Still living the privileged life, huh?”
“What do you want?”
She turned slowly, and when her eyes locked with mine, the mask dropped.
