Chapter 16

 

Arie’s POV

I woke the morning after the celebration with Ethan’s kiss still burning on my lips.

For several seconds, I remained beneath the covers and stared at the pale ceiling, remembering the warmth of his arm around my waist and the gentleness of his hand against my face. My body remembered how easily I had moved closer. It remembered that I had kissed him back.

Then Nico entered the memory.

I saw him standing at the altar with Bianca and felt the cold pressure of his wedding ring against my cheek. Guilt tightened around my chest, even though I knew I had done nothing wrong. Nico was married. He had chosen another woman and then expected me to remain faithful to a relationship he had destroyed.

Kissing Ethan wasn’t a betrayal.

Why did it still feel like one?

My burgundy dress lay across the chair where I had left it. It seemed to belong to another woman—the one who had laughed, danced, and allowed herself to want something without considering the consequences.

I pulled the covers higher and spent most of Sunday avoiding my thoughts. I cleaned the apartment, reorganised the kitchen, and called my aunt. She told me about Uncle Angelo’s latest business problem and mentioned that Bianca had returned from her honeymoon.

I tried not to react.

“Have you spoken to her?” my aunt asked.

“Not recently.”

“She asks about you.”

The guilt inside me deepened. “Tell her work has been keeping me busy.”

“She misses you, Arie.”

“I miss her too.”

That was the most painful part. Bianca had never been cruel to me. She had shared her home, her family, and almost every important moment of her life with me. She had no idea that I had loved her husband long before she placed a ring on his finger.

After ending the call, I opened my wardrobe. The black Contini box remained hidden beneath my clothes. I didn’t touch it, but knowing the necklace was inside made the apartment feel smaller.

I closed the wardrobe and walked away.

By Monday morning, I had convinced myself that I could behave normally. The kiss had lasted only a few seconds. Ethan had respected my decision to stop, and neither of us had promised the other anything.

Still, when I entered the office, I checked his usual meeting room before I could stop myself.

It was empty.

Relief and disappointment arrived together.

Shelly appeared beside my desk carrying two coffees. She examined my face before handing me one.

“You left without saying goodbye.”

“I was tired.”

“You disappeared onto the terrace with Ethan and then left in a taxi.”

“I needed air.”

“For twenty minutes?”

I removed my coat and switched on my computer. “Do you have work to do?”

“Yes, but this is more important.”

“There is nothing to discuss.”

Shelly pulled her chair closer. “Did he kiss you?”

My silence answered for me.

Her eyes widened. “He kissed you.”

“Could you announce it more loudly? I don’t think the people downstairs heard you.”

“What happened?”

“We kissed, and then I stopped it.”

“Did he do something wrong?”

“No.” The answer came immediately. “He asked before he touched me. I agreed. I even kissed him back.”

Shelly’s excitement softened. “Then why do you look as though you committed a crime?”

Because part of my heart still belonged to a married man. Because I could cross an ocean and change my number, but I couldn’t erase the way Nico’s touch had once made me feel.

“It’s complicated.”

“Is this about the man you ran away from?”

My gaze snapped toward hers.

Shelly lifted both hands. “You never told me, but I’m not completely blind. You moved across an ocean alone, panic whenever a black car slows near you, and looked ready to cry when you saw Nicholas Contini in that magazine. I know someone hurt you.”

For one terrifying moment, I wondered how much she had guessed.

“He was someone I loved,” I admitted carefully. “He chose someone else.”

“And now he wants you to remain alone?”

“He doesn’t get to want anything from me anymore.”

“Then stop punishing yourself for surviving him.”

I stared at my coffee. Shelly made it sound simple, but my heart had never understood simple things.

“I’m not ready for Ethan.”

“Then tell him that. If he is the man I think he is, he’ll understand.”

Before I could respond, the elevator doors opened.

Ethan entered the office beside Mr. Hart.

My heartbeat changed immediately. He wore a dark suit and carried a folder beneath one arm. Nothing in his expression revealed what had happened between us, but when his eyes found mine, his steps slowed.

I looked down at my computer.

For the next two hours, Ethan remained inside meetings. I concentrated on reports and answered emails, but I felt his presence through the glass walls. Whenever the conference-room door opened, my shoulders tensed.

Shortly before lunch, a message appeared on my screen.

Ethan Hale: Could we speak? Somewhere public, if that would make you more comfortable.

The consideration behind those words loosened some of the anxiety inside me.

Me: The café downstairs.

He was waiting at a corner table when I arrived. He stood as I approached but didn’t try to touch me.

“Thank you for coming.”

I took the chair opposite him. “You wanted to talk.”

“About Saturday.”

My fingers tightened around the strap of my handbag. “Ethan—”

“I owe you an apology.”

“You asked for my permission.”

“I did.”

“And I gave it to you.”

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t misread how ready you were.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I said. “I wanted you to kiss me.”

His eyes held mine. “Until you didn’t.”

“I remembered someone.”

“The man you crossed an ocean to escape?”

My silence confirmed it.

Ethan leaned back, giving me more space even though the table already separated us. “You don’t have to tell me who he is.”

“Thank you.”

“But I need you to know that I’m not expecting anything from you. You don’t owe me another kiss, an explanation, or a relationship because of what happened.”

The knot inside my chest slowly began to loosen.

“You aren’t angry?”

“Disappointed that you stopped kissing me?” A faint smile touched his lips. “Yes. Angry with you for stopping? Never.”

A reluctant laugh escaped me.

His expression became serious again. “I’m sorry if I made your life more complicated.”

“You didn’t. My life was complicated long before I met you.”

Ethan reached inside his jacket and removed a business card. His name and office details were printed across the front, but he turned it over and wrote a number on the back.

He placed it on the table between us.

“What is this?”

“My private number.”

“I already have your office contact.”

“This one reaches me directly.”

I didn’t pick it up. “Why would I need that?”

“Maybe you never will.”

“Then why give it to me?”

He was silent for a moment. “Because whatever you left behind still frightens you.”

My stomach tightened.

“I’ve seen the way you react to certain cars,” he continued. “You won’t allow my driver to know where you live, and you look toward every door before entering a room. I’m not asking you to explain any of it.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I believe you.” He pushed the card slightly closer. “But being capable of surviving alone doesn’t mean you should always have to.”

I looked at the handwritten number.

“I’m not asking you to call me,” Ethan said. “I’m not asking you for anything. Keep it, throw it away, or forget it exists. But if there ever comes a day when you need someone and believe you have no one, use that number.”

“Why would you help me?”

His eyes remained steady on mine. “Because nobody should have to face the thing they fear alone.”

I picked up the card.

“Thank you.”

Ethan stood. “We’re all right?”

“We’re all right.”

He nodded and left the café without trying to turn the moment into anything more.

I placed the card inside the smallest pocket of my handbag and returned to work. The tension between us didn’t disappear, but it changed. Ethan maintained a professional distance for the rest of the day. He spoke to me during the afternoon meeting as though nothing had happened, although his eyes occasionally lingered on mine.

For the first time, distance didn’t feel like rejection.

It felt like respect.

When I left the office that evening, rain had begun falling. I opened Ethan’s umbrella and stepped beneath it, smiling when I realised I had still forgotten to return it.

Then I noticed the black vehicle parked across the street.

My steps stopped.

The windows were tinted, and the engine appeared to be running. It could have belonged to anyone. Seattle was filled with expensive black cars, especially near the Hale offices.

Still, the warning Nico had sent returned to me.

Stay away from Ethan Hale.

A bus moved between us, blocking my view for several seconds. When it passed, the vehicle was pulling away from the pavement.

I watched until it disappeared around the corner.

My hand slipped into my handbag and touched Ethan’s card. I considered calling the number, but what would I say? That an ordinary car had frightened me? That I still imagined Nico inside every shadow?

I forced myself to continue walking.

That night, I placed the card inside the hidden pocket of my wallet rather than throwing it away. I told myself it was only a number and that I would never have any reason to use it.

Across the street, another dark vehicle sat beneath a broken streetlight.

It remained there until I closed the curtains.