LOGINTwo days passed in a blur.
I lived at the firm, barely going home, only pausing long enough to approve wedding arrangements over the phone. The hours bled together — meetings, contracts, and the steady hum of my father’s legacy. Now it was here. My wedding day. I stand before the full-length mirror, hardly recognising the woman staring back at me. The satin gown hugs my figure in all the right places, its off-shoulder sleeves grazing my skin like a whisper. The train pools behind me, soft as spilled cream. My red hair has been pinned into a deliberately messy bun, a few loose strands framing my face just so. It’s the kind of effortless elegance stylists spend hours perfecting. My makeup is flawless — the soft glow on my cheeks, the hint of rose on my lips, the smoky liner making my eyes look deeper, almost otherworldly. And for the first time in a long time a genuine smile tugged my lips. I was about to marry the love of my life. Dave. We’d been together for six years. We met in college, inseparable from day one. Me, Dave, and Mina — the unshakable trio. My life had felt perfect once, until everything changed. The memory slammed into me: my graduation dinner, Dad beaming at me like I’d hung the stars. A few weeks later, his heart failed. Two days after that, Mom’s heart stopped too. My chest tightened. Since their deaths, the world hasn’t been the same. In all that time, the only constants left have been my brother, Mina, and Dave. And Dave was my anchor. With him, I wanted the home my father had always returned to — the home that washed his exhaustion away. I would build that life for myself, for us. I reached for my phone, thumb hovering over the screen. A text to Mina: Where are you? The message sat on top of a string of blue and grey bubbles. Unanswered. For days now. What happened? What did I do wrong? Are you okay? No reply. No call back. Only “seen.” I stared at the screen, a cold weight settling in my stomach. Mina had been my friend for as long as I could remember. We’d survived exams together, heartbreaks, family crises. She wasn’t just a bridesmaid; she was supposed to be standing beside me at the altar, my sister in everything but blood. And now… nothing. No call. No text. Not even on the morning of my wedding. The thought sent a sharp ache through me. Mina would never simply miss her best friend’s wedding. Not without a reason. Not without a word. I typed another message with trembling fingers. Please, Mina. Where are you? Still nothing. I pressed my phone to my chest, trying to steady my breathing. On the day I was supposed to feel happiest, a shadow was creeping in. Something was wrong. Despite all logic, a single thought kept hammering in my head: I need to know where Mina is. In my wedding gown, its materials clinging to me, veil trailing behind and barefoot on the cold corridor tiles, I left my suite. Each step echoed, slow and heavy, as if my dread was dragging me down. Dave would know. He and Mina are also best friends — just like me and Mina, just like me and Dave. For years it’s been the three of us against the world, a tight circle no one could break. If anyone could explain why she’d disappeared now of all days, it would be him. But the closer I got to his room, the tighter the knot in my stomach pulled. My heart thudded against my ribs, each beat louder than the last. What if the reason Mina wasn’t here… wasn’t something I wanted to hear? I stopped in front of his door, palm hovering just above the polished wood, trembling. The door was slightly ajar. Through the narrow crack, I caught a glimpse of Mina standing inside Dave’s room. Her shoulders were tight, her eyes red and shining with angry tears. “You can’t do this to me,” she choked out, voice trembling. Dave looked devastated, like a man crumbling in slow motion. He reached for her. “We didn’t mean to hurt her. Please… don’t do this to me,” she whispered, while he pulled her into a hug. “I can’t, she's done so much for me… for us. I can’t just leave her. I still love her. She’s my best friend.” He says with his eyes closed, pained. “Please… don’t let marry her. Tell her the truth. Tell her we fell in love. We’re sorry. Please.” Mina broke down completely, her sobs echoing off the walls. And I stood there, frozen at the door in my wedding gown, my whole world crashing in silence around me. Mina must feel my presence because she turns toward the door. Her eyes go wide, shock freezing her mid-breath. In a single motion she shoves Dave out of her arms, as if distance could erase what I’ve just seen. I just stand there, staring between them. Dave’s hands drop to his sides; he looks as stunned as she does. Mina’s lips part as if to speak, but before any sound comes out I spin away, satin swishing around my legs, tears burning behind my eyes. Barefoot, I walk down the corridor, the cold tiles biting into my feet. My mind is a blur, unable to process, unable to think — I just walk. At the end of the hall a man leans against the wall, a thin curl of cigar smoke rising above him. He looks familiar, but my brain refuses to focus; all I want is to escape. As I move past him, a hand reaches out and settles on my shoulder. He bends down until his eyes are level with mine, and only then do I really see him. I would recognise those eyes anywhere. Noah. My brother’s best friendThe first night in a new place is always the loudest.Even silence has a sound.I stood barefoot in the middle of the living room, city lights bleeding through the windows, Chicago stretched out beneath me like an unfinished argument. The apartment smelled new—clean, untouched, unfamiliar. No trace of anyone else. No memories clinging to the walls.Exactly what I wanted.I unpacked methodically. Suits first. Shoes lined with precision. Toiletries arranged with the same care I used to organise case files. Control, even in the smallest things, mattered. When everything had a place, my thoughts stayed quieter.I showered, letting the hot water beat against my shoulders until my skin tingled, until the day finally loosened its grip. I slipped into an oversized black T-shirt and nothing else, hair damp down my back, and poured myself a glass of water.The city outside glittered indifferently.I moved toward the window, resting my forehead briefly against the cool glass. Down below, cars st
The plane touched down with a dull thud, and Chicago stretched beneath me in steel and grey, sharp-edged and unfamiliar.Good.I stayed seated long after the seatbelt sign flicked off, fingers wrapped around the armrest as the cabin filled with movement and noise. People eager to get back to lives that still made sense. I waited until the aisle cleared, until the air felt less suffocating, then stood and reached for my bag.No white dress.No ghosts.Just me.The cold hit me the moment I stepped outside O’Hare, slicing through my coat like a reminder that this city wouldn’t coddle me. Wind whipped my hair loose from its bun, strands of red snapping against my cheek as I climbed into the waiting car Max had arranged.The driver barely spoke. I appreciated that.Downtown Chicago rose ahead of us, all glass towers and sharp lines, the kind of city that didn’t ask permission. I watched it approach through the tinted window, pulse steady, shoulders squared. This wasn’t a retreat. It was a
When I walked into the firm, my heels clicked across the marble floor like a warning bell — steady, sharp, unyielding. Every employee I passed straightened immediately, whispering my name like I was some untouchable goddess, but I felt anything but. Inside, I was just a woman whose world had collapsed in a single breath.Still, my head stayed high. Always high.The elevator doors slid open to the top floor, my office — my father’s legacy. The same office I once dreamed of sharing with him. Now, it felt cold, too quiet, like even the walls could sense my exhaustion. I walked straight to my desk, tossed my bag down, and buried myself in the comfort of work. Paperwork, contracts, case files — anything that could drown out the memory of yesterday.A soft knock came moments later. “Come in,” I said without looking up.My assistant, Clara, poked her head through the door, nervousness flickering in her eyes. “Ma’am… Mr. Dave is waiting outside.”My pen froze mid-sentence.I inhaled slowly,
In the car, I stare out the window at the bustling city — people laughing, horns blaring, life moving on as if mine hadn’t just fallen apart. In the passenger seat beside Noah, I clutch my wedding dress tightly, its soft fabric a painful reminder of everything I lost.I’m silently grateful for his quiet. He hasn’t said a word since we left the house, and I don’t think I could handle it if he did.When the car finally rolls to a stop in front of my apartment building, I look up for the first time. His bright blue eyes are already on me. He looks like he wants to say something but stops himself. Instead, he picks up my phone from my lap, calls his own number, and hands it back to me.I blink at him, startled by the audacity. Before I can even open my mouth to argue, I hear him chuckle — low and brief.“That’s the look you give when you’re about to say something reckless,” he says, almost amused.I stare at him, confused, but before I can reply, his face returns to its usual unreadable
"Aurora?” Noah’s voice cut through the chaos, confusion etched across his face. “What happened?” he asked, glancing past me.Footsteps echoed behind. I tore myself out of his embrace and started walking away, my wedding dress swishing against my legs.“Wait, Aurora!” Dave’s voice called after me. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.“Please!”A sudden noise made me spin around. Noah had Dave pinned against the wall, his expression dark with anger. Dave’s eyes locked on mine, pleading, but how could I stay?I kept walking, out into the reception. Heads turned. Whispers followed. My bare feet were cold on the marble floor, but I barely felt it.Almost at the door, someone grabbed my arm. My heart lurched and I almost screamed—until I looked up.Max. My brother. He was staring down at me, concern and anger battling in his eyes.“What are you doing here?” he demanded, frowning. “Where are you going?” His gaze flicked around the room. “Where’s Dave?”For the first time, I looked straight at him
Two days passed in a blur.I lived at the firm, barely going home, only pausing long enough to approve wedding arrangements over the phone. The hours bled together — meetings, contracts, and the steady hum of my father’s legacy.Now it was here. My wedding day.I stand before the full-length mirror, hardly recognising the woman staring back at me. The satin gown hugs my figure in all the right places, its off-shoulder sleeves grazing my skin like a whisper. The train pools behind me, soft as spilled cream. My red hair has been pinned into a deliberately messy bun, a few loose strands framing my face just so. It’s the kind of effortless elegance stylists spend hours perfecting. My makeup is flawless — the soft glow on my cheeks, the hint of rose on my lips, the smoky liner making my eyes look deeper, almost otherworldly.And for the first time in a long time a genuine smile tugged my lips. I was about to marry the love of my life. Dave.We’d been together for six years. We met in coll







