Lucian The city skyline glowed outside my office window, a thousand diamond lights scattered across the landscape. I leaned back in my chair, rolling my neck to relieve the tight knot that had settled there since morning. The documents on my desk blurred before my eyes, lines of contracts and sales reports merging into an indistinguishable mess. I sighed heavily and raked a hand through my hair. Focus, Lucian. I pinched the bridge of my nose, dragging a file closer, but no matter how many times I read the words, they wouldn’t stick. My mind kept drifting back—back to her. Back to Eloise. I hadn’t planned to see her today. I was supposed to have a quiet dinner with a client at Lumière, to finalise the expansion pitch for next quarter’s Paris release. But when I walked in, I saw her. She sat at the far end of the restaurant with her family, her father, Jadeline, and Jennifer. Eloise looked tired, her smile polite but dim. I watched from the shadows of my private booth, every muscl
Eloise I drove in silence, my grip tight on the steering wheel as I merged into the evening traffic. The sun had set, leaving streaks of purple across the horizon. The city lights flickered on one by one, its like watching the world come alive for everyone except me. The car smelled of my vanilla perfume mixed with leather, but somehow it felt stifling tonight. My father sat in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead, eyes weary from the long flight. Jadeline sat behind him, quietly tapping away on her phone, while Jennifer sat behind me, humming under her breath to whatever song played in her mind. “So, how’s Max?” my father asked suddenly, breaking the silence. My chest tightened. “He’s… fine,” I said, my voice flat. “Growing up fast. He asks about you.” He didn’t respond, just nodded absentmindedly, returning his gaze to the traffic outside. It was like talking to a wall. There was a time when I would do anything for his attention – read newspapers so I could discuss politi
Eloise I didn’t know what I was expecting when I pulled into the airport parking lot, but it wasn’t this. It had been three years since my dad left. Three long years of silence that stretched between us like a cold void. The heart problems that sent him overseas had been serious, life-threatening even. And with Jadeline, my stepmom, by his side, I didn’t expect the same father I remembered. He had always been the life of the party, loud, charismatic, the type of man who had a hundred friends but none of them really knew him. And then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed. Just like that, he left. And I was left with the remnants of a broken family to navigate alone. But now they are finally coming home. I could see the hustle and bustle of the airport as I walked through the automatic doors, the smell of coffee and harsh floor cleaner in the air mixing with the low hum of chatter and rolling suitcases. People hugging each other, children screaming with joy, lovers kissing as
LUCIAN I sat in silence, sprawled across the velvet couch of my penthouse living room, my shirt half unbuttoned, smoke curling from the cigarette clenched between my lips. A half-empty bottle of bourbon sat on the marble coffee table, amber liquid gleaming under recessed lighting. I leaned forward, elbows resting on my knees, feeling the expensive fabric of my trousers strain against my thighs. I could hear the low hum of traffic thirty stories below, the occasional wail of a siren. I took a long drag from my cigarette, inhaling deep enough that my chest burned. Then I exhaled slow, watching the smoke spiral up into the shadows above. The silence was too loud. I hated silence. My eyes flicked to the glass wall across the room. Beyond it lay the city I owned, my companies, my buildings, my investments, all of it stretching out like an empire carved by my own ruthless hands. But tonight, it felt empty. Meaningless as well. As though I was staring at a world that belonged to someone
MIKE The car was silent as I drove Ava home. The engine’s low hum filled the void between us, mingling with the faint squeal of wiper blades scraping against the windshield as dusk settled into cold drizzle. Her quiet sobs had stopped back at the atelier, replaced now by an eerie, defeated stillness. She sat curled into the passenger seat, arms wrapped tight around herself, her head resting against the window as streetlights slid across her face in fractured gold. My hands clenched the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. I felt both relieved that the truth was out, and sickened by what it had cost. Eloise’s face burned in my mind – the flatness of her voice, the hollow devastation in her eyes as she looked at us like strangers wearing masks of people she once loved. I wanted to believe we had done the right thing. Confession was supposed to set you free, wasn’t it? But as I glanced over at Ava’s trembling silhouette, all I felt was the deep, gnawing ache of guilt. Traff
ELOISE The atelier felt colder than ever as their voices faded into silence. I stood there, my hands trembling at my sides, staring at Ava’s tear-streaked face and Mike’s downturned eyes. I felt all the air leave my lungs all at once. I understand that it’s been a over a decade but how could Ava herself hide something like this from me even during our time at the college. My mind spun with fragments of memories – Ava and I curled up in her dorm room after final critiques, laughing at the way our professors pronounced French designers’ names with pompous accents; Ava leaving little love notes on my mirror before shows, scribbled with “You’re stronger than your fear.” Stronger than your fear. I wanted to laugh at the irony. Now, standing here under the harsh white pendant lamp, the shadows pooled around my feet felt deeper than fear – they felt like an unbreakable iron, chaining my heart to the floor. Ava sobbed once more, the sound tearing at my chest in a way I didn’t want to f